My friend, Eggs

For the past six years, one of the best friends I have ever had has begged, pleaded, peer pressured, coerced, bribed, prodded, and shamed me to come visit him in his newly adopted town in the middle of the desert. I, growing up as a Midwestern boy was never intrigued by the desert. I practically liquidate upon setting off into any situation in which the temperature climbs above 72 degrees or so.

Besides, even the word "desert" causes consistent fuck ups on my part. Any time I necessarily need to talk about either "dessert" or "desert", I almost automatically mix them up. It is to the point where every single time I need to type out either word, I go forward with my gut reaction, and then self-edit whatever I put down, automatically changing it to the other word, knowing it is wrong.

It sucks going through life knowing without doubt that you will consistently screw something up, the same thing up, no matter how conscious you are of it. Honestly, I just now looked up on Yahoo! what image would pop up if I typed the word "d-e-s-s-e-r-t" and a big piece of pie showed up. And here I thought I was going to see an amazing landscape of sand and cacti.

Which leads me back to my friend.

My desert-dwelling friend has lived in Tucson for the last six years or so, and has pretty much always told me that I would love it out there. Without giving much thought into why he was so sure it would be a town I would be into, I dismissed his statement simply due to the fact that this guy is one of the most outspoken people I have ever met. The type of guy who talks and talks and talks. Seriously. At times, I wonder if the man doesn't have a problem. I mean, how could any one person go on and on as he does- as he always has- and not get tired of himself?

Besides that, his quick to form and unshakable opinions have always left me with my guard up when it comes to him making claims about or against me. Including, and especially times when he would question my integrity as a man simply for not being able to come out and visit him. Some bold statements about pussying out on good times, or not having the balls to stand up against bosses who would not sign off on vacation requests, or choosing to go somewhere else during times when I was given time off. It always seemed that there were other things in the way of me heading out and finally seeing this town that my friend said was going to be impressive to me.

So with great pleasure, and a bit of finagling, I was able to get a decent chunk of time off this past week to finally head out to Tucson and the surrounding area with the promise of a free place to stay for me and my wife, a free car to drive around where ever we wanted to go, and with some good guidance on where to go all throughout Arizona.

The trip and the planning were not all hassle free however, considering getting time off became a major hassle and work in itself, not to mention the fact that my wife has barely met and knows my friend- nicknamed "Eggs." "Eggs" was all of our nicknames in high school- something that must have confused the hell out of anyone that was not a part of our idiotic group of adolescent young men.

We wondered what kind of place would we be staying in? Knowing my friend tended to favor living in run down apartments (what he called "filled with character") and what could be generously described as low-income neighborhoods while we both inhabited the boisterous city of LA- my wife and I both walked forward into this trip with a bit of trepidation.

What kind of host would he be? Would we be stuck on a twin mattress bed while he slept on the floor at the foot of the bed all because his studio apartment was the size of a small walk in closet? Would we be given full access to his vehicle only to find out that he expected us to chauffeur him to and from where ever he needed to go?

Or maybe the worst thing would be him following us around, every where, getting in the way of what was a most definitely necessary time for my wife and I to get away before the stresses of our jobs kicked in and as the cold winter approached. He was after all the guy who seemed to be the embodiment of the word "inappropriate," and someone who never worried about sharing his opinions of you or anyone or anything around you. That redheaded guy across the room? My friend is the type that would go on to talk (jokingly, but still) about how ginger haired people are inferior to the majority of the general population- only slightly higher on the social totem pole than Mormons.

Would my friend dare continue to talk and gab and bitch and quote and rant for no end? Until we both went mad over his incessant verbal diarrhea? Until we just couldn't take it anymore and decide to be dropped off at the airport six days before our originally scheduled flight back to Chicago? Besides, heading to this part of Arizona was not my wife's first plan for our time off. We both began to worry about my friend, Eggs, and his motor mouth getting in the way of some relaxation and a nice experience.

Which is the interesting thing of it all. I never get bored of his ramblings about what ever theory he is studying and how he has helped apply such theory to some urban redevelopment plan somewhere in Tennessee. Nor the stories of encounters with mass murdering cop killers who are responsible for his court subpoena to testify in front of a grand jury sometime in early October. It always amuses me to hear him rant about Phoenix housing developers and how they are the root of all evil. Or how he can go on for hours reenacting scenes from our favorite TV show in high school- The State. Or how he could talk forever about one of his secondary lives (his first being a PhD student at the local state university) as a bartender/semi-professional bike racer/outdoors man.

The guy is absolutely fascinating! Quite possibly the best part of it all is knowing that this is the same guy who in our early days as freshman at a private Catholic school in the western 'burbs of Chicago, couldn't put on his mandatory for the uniform tie the right way. Hell, not to call him out or anything, but he didn't even know how to properly tie his own shoe laces. Any semblance of an upbringing could be called scarce, and one by a father who could best be described as "aloof." This never seemed to bother my friend, though it is hard to say truly how much he was bothered by his lack of guidance or caring.

Any way you look at it though one thing is for sure, my friend grew up to be someone who I envy a great amount. Someone who I can honestly say is an inspiration to me, and for good reason. Independent- without a doubt. He lives his life as free as any living thing could be, and still has the ability to claim a home territory and get the most out of a place and its people. Smart- absolutely. He is one of the most intelligent and thoughtful people I know. Not just in a sense of theory or academia, but through most things practical. It is amazing to see just how much he has been able to accomplish and learn and live since the days roaming school with his laces pushed into the sides of his scuffed up loafers.

If I had to sum up the trip, I could easily say it was spectacular, but so much can and will be said of it in the near future, I hope. Details of the trip will follow in a series of posts that will hopefully capture the feel of what was going on around us. The desert is a truly special place, and I can see why people love it so much. There really is a unique quality to the air out there. And the people that live there really are a sight to be seen, listened to, and befriended. Including my friend Eggs, who deserves a massive thank you. That bottle of bourbon we bought for you could never be enough to thank you for such a great time and warm hospitality. Oh, and thanks for going the extra steps by sleeping outside every single night just to give us our privacy. It was unnecessary, but just another sign of your greatness!