I’m in an undisclosed coffee shop in Chandler, AZ, basking in its functional air conditioning while I await my next appointment. The greater Phoenix area is much like I imagined it would be: big, flat and hot. It was 86°F when I left my motel this morning, yet it didn’t feel as oppressive the equivalent would be in Seattle.
Later this evening, I’m headed down to Tucson. It’s been a long time since I lived there. I’m curious how much I remember is still there. It’ll also be interesting to see how warped my childhood perspective of distance is. For example, the ten mile drive to downtown seemed like a moderate journey only to be made on special occasions. Then again, this was Back In The Day of 8-Tracks Playing Neil Diamond and Barry Manilow, a time when flying was so exciting, we got dressed up for the trip.
If meeting gaps tomorrow permit, I hope to visit Saguaro national park.