I find it strange that of all the
places in the US, I’ve been to Phoenix, Arizona on more than one occasion and
have spent a lot of time there. As a guy who grew up and lived all of my life
in Baltimore, Maryland, the Valley of the Sun seems out of the way to me. It’s
a place that’s mentioned on the Golf Channel as having many great courses to
play on, or on ESPN as the home of spring training for many west coast MLB
teams. But it’s way out there! When I fly Southwest, as I sometimes do, I stare
at the cocktail napkin, which shows all of the cities that the airline
services. I gaze over the map and think about all these unknown places: there’s
Little Rock, there’s Oklahoma City, there’s El Paso, there’s Albuquerque, and
there’s Phoenix.
“Will I ever go there?” I wonder.
Undoubtedly, I will see some, and
some I won’t.
But I sure got to see Arizona!
Back in 2008, I started a job as a claims adjuster for Progressive Insurance.
They flew me to – Phoenix - for a set of two week trainings. Out there, I met a
gang of interesting people from all over the States. We hung out and had drinks
in Old Town Scottsdale, hiked a trail on Camelback Mountain, went on a Pink
Jeep tour of Red Rock State Park in Sedona, and I also played basketball at
rec-park near our hotel. But the game of hoops turned out to be a bad idea, as
I badly hurt my knee trying to be a hot-shot. The torn meniscus and torn ACL
forced me to suspend training for the moment. I had to fly back out to Phoenix,
for a third time, two weeks later to finish the process. I had a true life
experience in a faraway town. Some of it felt like spring break, and some of it
felt like a root canal. The knee injury continued to cause complications, and
the claims job turned out to be the wrong fit. I worked at Progressive Insurance
in White Marsh, Maryland for fifteen months – the only positive experience was
the time I had while training in Arizona.
Five years later, Phoenix would
come into my life again. My youngest sister, Erin, moved to the site of my old
stomping grounds and started a family. Her boyfriend, Allen, landed a promising
job in the area, so they relocated from Maryland to Arizona. Their first baby,
Walter Jan McWilliams (the middle name is after me), was born March 24, 2013. His
arrival warranted another trip to desert. I find the situation to be
coincidence. This place, on the opposite side of the country, which formerly
meant nothing more than a wondrous spot on a map, was now a part of my life and
my family. I was excited to book a trip back to see the old red rocks and
cacti. Most importantly, I was stoked to see the baby - my new nephew - Walter.
A lot of things were already
working in my favor this time around. A hook-up that I have with my dad’s
timeshare provided an excellent place to stay, The Orange Tree Golf Resort, was
ten minutes away from my sister’s house. Years of disciplined spending with my
credit card earned me enough points to reserve a rental car at virtually no
cost. The roundtrip airfare, from BWI to PHX and back, hardly set me back.
Throw in a tee-time on the golf course, a revisiting to Old Town Scottsdale,
pool, Jacuzzi, tequila, and plenty of chips and salsa, and this was not just a
family gathering – it was a much needed vacation! It would be all play; no
work.
Observing my belongings laid out
on the bed, one might call me a careful packer. I am. Sometimes I over-think
things, but I’ll take that over being unprepared. My chief advice on packing –
don’t procrastinate. Start thinking about your trip at least a day or two ahead
of time. Think about what you’ll need and start getting it together. If you’re
from the east coast like me, the desert can be hard to get used to. You’ll need
to consider the hot sun and dry air when picking out clothes and choosing
hygiene products. I thought of everything from Alka-Seltzer and Pepcid AC for relieving
the morning burn from the chips and salsa (and tequila), to the Zantac that
might come in handy if the local cactus flower blazes-up my allergies again,
and finally my golf glove and knee brace for hitting the links. Thorough
planning for trips like these is not obsessing – it’s smart. I felt confident -
this trip was going to be smooth.
When I left Baltimore, it was on a
slightly warmer end to a long week of cold and rain. Cut to driving out of Sky
Harbor airport in my rental car, it’s sunny, warm, and there’s no trace of
humidity – a real delight for east coasters who come out west in early spring.
The late afternoon arrival was perfect for my ride to the resort. Clearly seen
in the peak of daytime were sky-scraping palm trees, bristly cacti, and dusky
mountains. The pop radio station that was tuned-in when I started the car did
not play a single song that I recognized, but I didn’t care. The tempo of the
mainstream synthetic beats went along with the situation. For me, traveling,
rental cars, and checking into different places always feels luxurious, and
it’s the only thing that takes my mind off the daily humdrum.
Things are so spread-out and flat
in Arizona that it was hard for me to find the Orange Tree even though I used a
GPS. The resort is so colossal that I didn’t realize one could enter through
any of its repeated gateways off of the main road. After yielding to several easy-going
golf carts, I pulled up, checked in, and got my key-cards. I used little time
to dump off my stuff, take a quick shower, and text my fam, “on my way.” It was
time to go see the little guy.
A few quick knocks, then I walk
in through the unlocked door.
“H-e-y-y-y,” I shouted.
“H-e-y-y-y! You’re here!” they
all shouted back.
Erin, looking super-relived from
post pregnancy, walks up, gives me a hug, and one-by-one introduces Allan’s
family who also came to visit. I did my best to match names with faces before
receiving a short pass of the baby. I felt more comfortable sitting down to
hold the little football sized person. He’ll never remember that he was once
small enough to be passed around to everyone and to have his diaper changed on
the coffee table. But he’ll see pictures of it! Babies are the star athletes of
winning everyone over and creating excitement while sleeping. I sat and he snoozed
in my arms for a good while.
It was the start of a great night
for seeing baby Walter, meeting new people, and enjoying a southwest style
cookout. After things started winding down, when it came time for me to head
over to my room to start winding down as well, a better idea came to mind. I
was not tired and could go for a few more beers. It was time to hit Old Town
Scottsdale while I had the chance.
I parked, strolled around Old
Town, and took in the desert night air. The evening sky changed from dark blue,
to magenta, and finally to pitch black and speckled with more stars than one usually
sees in an urban area. I love the desert at night – there’s something exciting
about it. It also feels cozy. The pavement, rocks, and other solid surroundings
soak in the energy from the sun during the day. Then at night, radiated heat goes
together with a cool desert breeze. It’s quite special.
Walking alone and dodging the
groups of college kids who were out partying, I made my way to Cien Agaves,
which means one hundred tequilas in Spanish. The small Tex-Mex café was one of
the favorite hangout spots for the old Progressive group and me. A cerveza,
tequila, two chicken tacos, and chips and salsa hit the spot – while a friendly
chat with one bartender also made me feel welcome. The young dude told me about
one of his wild nights.
“I had one of those mornings
where you wake up in some girl’s apartment and you don’t know how ya got
there,” he said smirking.
“Sounds like a good night,” I
replied with an inquisitive tone.
“Nothing happened with her. But
it’s a good story!” he said.
“Undoubtedly,” I thought while
remembering a somewhat similar night that I had right there in the same bar,
five years ago, with an attractive and very friendly brunette. An evening of
cool conversation and pleasant flirting led to some interesting suggestions for
ending the evening. But I had to make a judgment call. It was the second night before
the third morning of training for a new job that I didn’t want to sacrifice. So
I ended up in the same condition as my bartender buddy – rain delay.
Cien Agaves closes up earlier
than other hot spots in Old Town so I paid my check and went next door to
Patty’s – a rowdy college hangout. The loud music, young crowd, and goofball
dancing had me thinking that this may not be my kind of place until I spotted
two pool tables in the back. I decided to get in on the action. A band of
laid-back temporary friends made for a nice time. One of them, a
stunningly-gorgeous blond in a blue dress kept the guys and I quite
entertained. The fellow she was with, and her pool partner, didn’t seem to mind
while she lightly flirted with the opposition. Her strategy of playful staring
and light brushing up against me made for a tricky round of billiards, but it
didn’t sidetrack my performance. My partner and I went something like 10-2 together.
Starting to feel tired from the long day, I told my teammate that the next game
will probably be my last.
Yet after each of our wins he insisted,
“One more game, one more game.”
We closed the place down, I was exhausted
but glad I was talked into staying – it was an awesome night. I rehydrated,
walked-off my buzz, and made it to the car then back to my room to officially
call it a night.
The next day was used for some
more sight-seeing. Erin, Allan, my mom and I decided on a drive to Cave Creek –
on the outskirts area of north Phoenix. There we took in the desert scenery, browsed
some unique southwest thrift shops, and had Walter’s first dining-out
experience at El Encanto. The open-area southwest-style restaurant was perfect
for Walter’s first time out. The atmosphere was calm and there was lots of
space. A pond of ducks, centered in the dining area courtyard, provided a show
with our meal. The birds quacked and chased each other while we ate fajitas and
shared a pitcher of beer.
“There’s nothing like this in
Baltimore,” I thought to myself.
A picture I took of Erin happily
holding Walter at our table by the water is my favorite shot of the trip.
The last adventure of my trip
takes place on holes one through eleven. The breathtaking Orange Tree golf
course deserved better than the level of game I was about to display. My
companion for the evening was John, Allan’s brother-in-law. He made me feel much
better about my teeing up performance by showing up with absolutely no
experience – it was his first time playing golf. We shanked out way through the
links. I gave John a few pointers, and he slowly started to show improvement. The
promising signs showing that he was catching-on to the game had me worried that
he might start playing better than me. Luckily, one of the staff members
scooted by to inform us of a situation.
“You guys are holding the whole dang
course up!” he said laughing, “Why don’t ya skip the next hole!”
“We’ll skip two,” John assured
him and we zoomed away.
The change of pace offered me the
right moment for suggesting that we quit while we’re ahead (and before John
starts playing too good).
The remainder of my visit was
filled with breakfasts, lunches, and dinners with the fam and holding time with
Walter. I got as much as I could before I had to depart. He slept with his
stomach on my chest - not knowing anything – except – he was in good hands. My
repacking was automatic; my mind was free to live in the moment for a change. The
drive to the airport was infused with feelings of fulfillment. I thought about
all that had changed. My sister had successfully expanded our family, and she
helped me to expand on my memories of a place and a time that circumstantially
means a lot to me.
[The End]
