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Published: August 16th 2008
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For once, I am feeling unverbose. If that's a word. Spell check says, "no," but I say to heck with that.
I'll probably use this opportunity to post way too many pictures of sunsets, walking tours, and my favorite: lightning (taken tonight).
My arrival in Phoenix was hot. Shocking, I know. First I was warm. Then I felt like all my nose hairs had been singed off and it burned to breath. Then I wondered why anyone in their right mind would pay a fortune to live there year-round. I have a new-found appreciation for humidity.
Prescott is like Eau Claire, WI (where I graduated college) in that it's bigger than smaller, smaller than big, things are still reasonably priced and everyone is nice. Genuinely nice. Not Minnesota Nice (which I still think is a crock of hooey). People here say, "please," and, "thank you," and seem to mean it. Salespeople don't seem irritated when you ask a question. Perhaps I'm just fooled and charmed and hopeful. But I don't think that's the case.
I've decided that Prescottonians can be over-generalized into three main demographics. Which I will now explain for your reading amusement:
*Group one
is the retirees. This group is old enough and smart enough to realize that life is too short to dress uncomfortably or stress constantly about impressing people you're already friends with or people you will never be friends with. And by "old" I mean over the age of 55, so not really old at all. As they say in Fried Green Tomatoes, "I'm older and I have more insurance." They're just happy to be retired. 'nuf said.
*Group two is your typical suburbanite looking family. They shop at Old Navy and Costco. They drive mini vans and pick-ups. They realize that Prescott isn't a bad place to raise a family. I'll venture to guess many of them are either from smaller towns than this or escaped somewhere really expensive to live without expensive benefits (eg. LA).
*Group three is my favorite to people watch. These are the women who luncheon. They have perfect pedicures, continuous hair upkeep, expensive clothes, 3-figure handbags, and children that don't ever seem to be around. I'm guessing they're transplants. I sat next to an entire table of this group yesterday at lunch. Had I not worked in Edina all those years, I probably
would not have been so aware of my Keen sandals and Target t-shirt.
But seriously, all of the people in all of these groups (and the ones I didn't write about) are friendly and nice. "Don't judge a book by its cover," is once again drilled into my head.
I've seen some amazing clouds and sunsets. I'll post a few (uh, define "few") pics on here to illustrate my point. I got pictures of lightning tonight. While this might not seem like a big deal, you see how you fare and get back to me. Then we'll discuss why I'm so darn proud to have gotten more than one!
Went on the walking tour of downtown Prescott this am. Our tour guide left out my favorite story, though. When all of Whiskey Row burned in July of 1900, and businesses decided to set up shop across the street on the courthouse mall area, the detail she left out concerns my favorite bar. The patrons of The Palace were rather fond of their bar. Literally. So they hitched up a team of horses and pulled the whole thing, mirrors and all, out into the street and continued serving.
Talk about service! The original bar is still in use.
Went to hear Cowboy Poetry this afternoon as well. Yes, you read that correctly. My dad even has a favorite band. They sang and played guitar. And yodeled. 'nuf said.
But I did get some pretty cool pics of a bee pollenating flowers.
Tomorrow I go to the movies and dinner at a family friend's. He has a special curry recipe that he only makes about once a year. This year he's making it twice.
After that, we're off to Flagstaff. I need to just sit back and relax and read a book.
Less than a week to go. It hardly seems real.
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