Tom's Legendary Visit !

Tom arrived to the desert today. Dear readers: this is Big news! Huge news! I repeat:

TOM HAS ARRIVED TO THE DESERT.

The winning trio is here: Tom, Phuong, Erika!

Phuong and I picked up Tom from the airport Friday night (after getting stuck in traffic, and then getting lost). He was waiting by the curb in cargo shorts and a t-shirt, completely shed of any evidence of NYC and it’s terrible winter weather. He was hungry, so we stopped by Mcdonald’s, sitting in the trunk of Phuong’s mini-big SUV. I ate fries, she ate a mcflurry, he had a big mac. He was bemused by the warm weather and the palm trees, and reminisced about a trip to Italy last year. It was nice and cool outside and the moon was our esteemed guest, shining in the distant sky.

Afterwards we went to the casino in Scottsdale. It was full of men drunk and delirious on greed, men and women actually, staring at the saturated colors of the slot machines, the animations of dragons, dancing monkeys, birds, etc, they watched the screens stuck in a state of hypnosis, looking strangely dissatisfied, as if they could hit the jackpot right there, and it still wouldn’t be enough to relieve the tension that kept them glued to the chair. We passed by the room of poker players, looking stern, sullun, focused so hard on looking unfocused that they appeared constipated. “If I went in there and like, jump scared them,” I said, “they would shoot me.”

None of us were up for spending money that night. Rather we observed and absorbed the sinning energy wafting through the air. The band played their blues and the retirees danced their 401k’s away and the young folk bet money they didn’t have to impress people that didn’t care. It was intoxicating.

We went to Phuong’s lab after, played some table tennis and wandered the halls. Phuong’s lab is across the street from where I work. It kind of reminds of a college, with it’s lecture halls and echoey hallways. They had a vending machine that distributes poems. I liked the poem I got - In Praise of My Bed by Meredith Holmes. I liked seeing where Phuong works. She has her own cubicle and a hoard of lab rats (I didn’t get to see the rats :().Phuong and Tom interact like siblings. They are competitive and loud and fun. Did you ever go to your cousin’s house when you were little, and have the best day ever? Just play tag and video games and eat pizza? It felt like that. It was nice, a good first day.

The next morning, we went on a hike. It was me, Tom, Phuong, and Phuong’s friend Amy. The drive down Happy Valley Road to McDowell Sonoran Preserv was a preview of what was to come: an array of saguaro’s lined the road, mixed in with adobe inspired houses and desert floral, and an endless sun fueled sky. The steward at the park recommends we hike to Prairie Falcon viewpoint. It’s not the entirety of the trail but it can be done in 2 ish hours and offers an excellent view of Tom’s Thumb. Some firefighters walk past. He greets them. “Yeah, somebody fell so they’re going for a rescue. It might take a while,” he says, as if it’s an everyday occurance. “Anyway, you guys have fun!”

Yes, I’m a resident of Arizona, and yes, I only hike once a year. Which means I’ve been hiking in this state twice. I love the views, the towering mountains, nature embedded from the sky to the roots, but as a person with a naturally anxious disposition, peering over the edge of a cliff at the sharpened rocks and cactuses full of needles and the scorpians and rattlesnakes and ticks hidden in bushes and burrows exacerbates the anxiety I constantly feel.

I’m on the hike tiptoeing behing the group. Retirees, shirtless men, blondes in Instagram worthy outfits are passing me by. I see Tom forging ahead. Tom the adventurer, Tom the east coast beast climbing to the top of Tom’s Thumb. Easy, confident strides. No, I will not turn around. Fear will not take me.

My friendship with Tom was a scheme I calculated. 7 years ago I was freshman year at the #19 ranked school in the country (now #20), the jewel of the midwest, the pride of St. Louis. I saw him and decided we had to be friends. I manifested it because I thought he was so cool, way cooler than me, and if we were friends, surely some of that coolness would transfer to me, and I too would be cool. Tom knew everyone, where all the paries were, all the tea. Tom does things, Tom is always doing things. On a typical weekend I may go out once to a coffee shop or what not. I may sleep in, or just hit the gym. I don’t usually hike. But Tom is hiking, so now I am hiking.

Sophmore year (or junior year?), Tom, Annie, and I went to a party. I remember it was dark. There were cups of unknown liquids strewn about. There was probably beer pong being played. I guy I liked was there, we exchanged a few words, but little progress was made. Suddenly, there were red and blue lights. I found Tom, Annie - where was Annie? The lights were getting brighter so I said to run and we made a run for it, down the stairs, down the street into the cool autumn wind, and as the music and the sirens grew quieter in the distance, I realized that my scheme was successful - I found the friend I’d wanted since I was a child, the friend with endless side quests and storylines. Tom!

We reached Prairie Falcon Viewpoint and stayed there awhile. In between the kissing rocks was Tom’s thumb, which sounds like one hell of an innuendo but it’s just the truth, there were two giant boulders touching each other, and in the distance the thumb - a big, rocky cliff shaped vaguely like a human thumb. I didn’t want to get close, I was scared and I’d conquered enough fear that afternoon. People marched past us, going further down the trail. Occassionally, a cool breeze passed by, and there were mountains all around us, mountains I’d never seen before, mountains behind mountains and beside mountains and on top of mountains with smooth rocks and jagged rocks, all much too big, lining them. Nature was exhilarating , thrilling, exhausting. The hike back was faster. I went home happy, tired but happy. At last I can be with you! I proclaimed to my bed, as the poem’s first line went. My mind was full of sunbeams and graveled paths, of hat wearing hikers and sweaty leggings, and mountains, mountains I had conquered, a real Arizona citizen, a real hiker, if only for an afternoon.

That night we went to Linger Longer Lounge. It was my idea, of course. Linger Longer Lounge is a jewel of the desert, a must visit. The theme of the night was WEENIE FEST: celebrating 8 years of der wurst hot dogs (I’ve never tried a der wurst hot dog, but I’m sure it’s good.)! Multiple hard core, underground metal bands were in the line up: Meat Hook, Sorrower, and Petals of Infinity. At the bar I got my usual, a diet coke. Every time I get one, they don’t ask about a tab, so I’m not sure if it’s free or if I’ve been stealing the whole time and they’re just tallying up what I owe before they arrest me. I guess I’ll find out next time!

We saw one band perform, Sorrower. It was an intense show, similar to an exorcism. The band was loud and thrashing under the blue lights. The crowd began to push each other back and forth as a mosh pit formed. A shirtless man kneeled, screaming, swaying with the smoke, which was either from a smoke machine or the many vape pens being used. We stayed back from the crowd, just watching, feeling the intesity of the energy, the band and the crowd becoming one rapid machine, shaking the room, shaking the floor, hearts beating together. I felt dizzy at times. We couldn’t stay for long, so we left after a few songs, to the lounge area where there were pool tables and a karoake machine. Tom and Phuong really liked the show!

They began to play pool and I sat on a bench behind them, sipping my coke and shifting out the way so I didn’t hit by the pool cue. Phuong would lean over the table and focus on the cue ball with a killer gaze, full of focus, the same focus that I imagine she uses in the pursuit of her PhD. In contrast, Tom was more nonchalant. Maybe he had more to drink? The contrasting cousin dynamics revealed themselves again. Unfortunetly, Phuong lost the game. She was so focused, that she landed the 8 ball too early. A sad night for women…

The next part of the night was in motion: Old Town Scottsdale. I made the mistake of driving, and it was terrible. There was no parking, and drunk bottle blondes and their sugar daddies stumbling everywhere. I was driving through alleys and men in polo shirts and polo shorts zipped in front of my car without a car. It was Waste Management weekend, which maybe explained the crowds. After 30 minutes of circling, I gave up. “We should’ve took an Uber,” I said, apologizing to Tom. But he didn’t seem to sad that we didn’t get to walk around or hit any bars. “It was good people watching.” The drive home was a blur of red and blue lights. I was very tired. I played Fake Fruit - Mucho Mistrust. Everyone liked it. We stopped for gas and I was very tired. Then we stopped at Phuong’s apartment and hung out with her roommate. I was very tired. I don’t remember much. Tom played chess with Phuong’s roommate and won like 2 times. Flight of the bumblebees was playing as my brain started shutting down. Verryyyy tired. But it was a good night.

The next day we went to Dragon’s Palace. I had a ridiculous portion of fried rice and fries. I had this idea for taking a picture in the trunk of Phuong’s mini-big SUV, where we first hung out when Tom arrived. After lunch I set up my tripod and we took the pictures. I think they came out really cool. Tom went back to NYC, and the weekend was over. For a moment, it was like being back in college, during the weird time when finals are over but nobody’s went home for summer break yet. The forever sun and the freedom to do anything. If only I could capture these times in a bottle and freeze it forever.