I feel like I may have come across as to you all as a snob. I don’t go to Gilbert. Or Chandler. Or Mesa if I can help it. This strikes people from Gilbert or Chandler or Mesa in an unpleasant way.
But I also don’t go to Scottsdale. I despise Scottsdale with every section of my body. In the recent past I accompanied a friend of mine to a horrific bar called Spanish Fly. It was the pinnacle of douchebaggery and girls who swoon over douchey guys. They do this wearing bikinis and board shorts. It’s on my list of most terrible places on earth, and it sums up the Scottsdale scene for me.
My one notable exception is FnB. Quite possibly the best restaurant I have ever experienced. (Tied with a little place in Paris called Cafe Constant.) Another is a wine shop called Terroir. I’m a member of their wine club and am always forgetting to go pick up my wine. I feel as though both places belong in Phoenix (especially Terroir, whose owner is apparently my neighbor. Not like on my street or anything, but he lives in the hood. Why drive all the way across town to run your amazing shop? Why not move it over here? Like in the AJs shopping center on Central and Camelback, for example.)
Do I think Phoenix is better than these various suburbs? Yes, I do. For many reasons I prefer living in Central Phoenix. That should be clear from what I choose to post about here I suppose.
The other exception I make is to go to visit my parents. Again, why they chose to live way the hell up in North Scottsdale is something I will never understand. I guess my dad really wanted to get as far away from Tempe as he could without leaving the state. And they do have a sweet house and their backyard looks like a resort. Case in point:
(That’s Jack when he was much younger. Now he’s 8 and way too cool for jumping off rocks.)
So I do go to these places, I would just prefer not to. I’m the Bartleby of the Valley of the Sun.
As I was typing this I was invited to a Corona del Sol happy hour in South Tempe (which might as well be Chandler). It’s at a horrible bar called Dos Gringos. I thought we had all agreed to finally come to Phoenix, and I thought I would finally not have to drive for 45 minutes to see my old friends. No dice. I will go out there and only complain a little bit, because the truth is I will go anywhere to see the people I love. And the older I get the more I love these guys who I hung out with over 20 years ago. Our reunion felt like a continuation of a party that started in 1986. And for that experience I don’t mind the drive.