It’s been nearly a year since I’ve been to Phoenix… okay that isn’t entirely true, because I ran Ragnar here just a little over a month ago. Still, it’s been nearly a year since I stopped and “did” Phoenix, which is much too long to go without seeing the Johnsons and relaxing in the way that only Phoenix and its inhabitants can get me to relax. I suspect that if I lived here, it wouldn’t be quite the same, but there’s a time -slowing-down thing and an “Oh, right – that’s who I am!” thing that both happen when I’m here. Maybe it’s the solitude and quiet I get on the drive up, or the fact that I haven’t been to Starbucks much at all this year (except for the two times I’ve been this weekend) and I’ve forgotten what it feels like to just sit in a public place without putting pressure on myself.
Since I was here last, I’ve struggled a bit more than it probably looked like I struggled (to you and to the folks who see me on a daily basis). I often forget that no one knows all of the thoughts in my head and I get frustrated when I have to explain them (because it’s all so obvious to me and I expect that everyone in my life is at least half Betazoid). As I look back over the time since I was last here, from the outside, all that’s visible is the races I’ve run, the books I’ve read, the working I’m always doing, the ducks I adopted, the writing I’ve written, etc… Realistically, I’m constantly considering quitting my job, and I’d give just about anything to get out of the country. I’ve stopped going to Starbucks – almost cold-turkey – and although I have the perfect setup at home for making Caramel lattes, I’m much less caffeinated than I was the case a year or so ago, only really enjoying a nice cup o’ joe once a week or so. I also stopped sleeping with my phone in my room anymore, started going to a weekly yoga class and I’m even thinking about getting a bicycle so that I no longer have to drive my car. Generally speaking, all of these small changes indicate how much, “I miss Mayberry, sitting on the the porch drinking ice cold cherry Coke…” But I suspect I’ll grow progressively more like this with each year that I age, and before you know it I’ll be telling stories about how I used to walk to school 4 miles in the snow – uphill both ways… in the desert?
I was considering skipping Phoenix Comicon this year, because it’s gotten MUCH too popular and I hate crowds just a bit. However, after this 24 hours, I’m convinced that I need to get up here, if only just to remember who I am and to accept that I like driving 2 over the speed limit even though everyone else drives more like 12 over. Also, I like arriving and secretly wandering alone downtown, peaking into BOB (Bank One Ballpark) regardless of the fact that it has been renamed to be Chase Stadium. And, okay, I get that I’m probably about to be scolded for wandering alone, but there are very few things as awesome as wandering, and it doesn’t feel as much like wandering if there are others with me… or even if others know where I am. Also, I need Dave and Lisa. It always mystifies me that I do, because they’re much more perfect than I ever feel, so I usually expect not to fit in, but in one of the few times when I enjoy expectations not meeting reality, I usually fit just fine. And I often feel a bit more perfect myself when I leave… not in the sense that I’m actually perfect, but in the sense that I feel a bit more Mayberry. The hustle-bustle doesn’t feel as all-consuming, and I don’t feel as betrayed by life or God when things don’t work out like they ought to.