It was great reconnecting with the not-so distant branches of our family tree and meeting the fast growing army of budding acorns.
Those little rascals are growing up fast and being able to see them before they're old enough not to give a shit who I am was worth the jet lag alone.
So I don't think I'm going out on a limb in saying that Thanksgiving is arguably the most traditional of traditions. A day crafted around a single meal that seldom varies. On what other day of the year do we know exactly what we're going to see when we sit down at the table? Sure, I guess you could argue International Ice Cream Sandwich Day (August 2), Gazpacho Day (December 6) or Waffle Day (March 25), but you get my point.
We did our best, however, to uphold those traditions yet turn them on their collective head. A grilled chipotle turkey? Why not! Mole sauce on your mashed potatoes and stuffing? Hell yeah!
It was an unusual Thanksgiving, yet in the end, what more do you need than a comfortable setting, a room full of good food and family? Oh, wait. Booze! Copious amounts of booze.
After a week of golf, gin and tonics, and desert hikes, the party unfortunately came to an end and the clan disbursed.
I, on the other hand, was not as eager to dive headfirst back into a northeast winter and stayed a few extra days with my friend Christina from El Salvador who, as luck would have it, lives in Tucson. Small world.
Christina and her friends went out of their way to show me what you might call the "real" Tucson, a mix of university hang outs, authentic mexican restaurants and your typical psychotic, sexual biker bars where patrons brave enough to get branded by the owner receive 50 cents off drinks for life. I wish I were joking.
<<< The Meet Rack >>>
Wow.
We also had the chance to hang out with Christina's stepdad Phil who, as you'll see below, happens to be a 30 year member of the Tucson Glider Club...
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