My first Christmas after returning to Phoenix in 1989


Around this time of year the Christmas spirit hits me, and I try to remember Christmases past. This can be a bittersweet thing to do, so if you're doing it right now with me I recommend caution. I pride myself on being able to handle the harsh reality of history, even my own, but I'm only human, so what I do is to try to look at it all, and come away with something positive. And that's always possible. Let's time-travel back to Phoenix in 1989.

1989 is the year that I tell people that I came home to Phoenix, from California. My hometown, where I grew up, is Minneapolis, but I had left there at 19, and it had never really felt like home. I lived in Arizona from 1977 to 1983, getting my four-year degree at ASU (yeah, it took a while), and then I moved to Los Angeles. And when I was laid off from a great job in LA, in the spring of 1989, I was lost, and floundering, so that summer I decided would be a good time to visit Phoenix, see some old friends, good for the soul. I really never intended to leave California, but I did.

Even though it was ridiculously hot (which apparently I'd forgotten about) Phoenix felt like home. I describe it as if you were putting on an old jacket that just felt right. I decided to stay, borrowed a van from a friend, zoomed back to LA, got my stuff, and moved into a wonderful little apartment called The Greens, which was on a golf course called El Caro. The apartment complex is still there, but the golf course isn't.

I was collecting unemployment from California, and I've always been pretty thrifty (we learn to be that way in the Midwest!) so I was doing OK financially. The cost of living in Phoenix was much less than LA (and still is) so I was living in a much nicer apartment than I had been in in Los Angeles. It was well over 600 square feet, had a separate bedroom, and the complex even had a swimming pool. What luxury!

A good friend of mine (who shall remain unnamed as he prefers to be anonymous, and which I respect) visited me that December. Wild horses couldn't have dragged him to visit me in LA, but when I told him that I was back in Phoenix, he jumped on his motorcycle and headed west, from Minneapolis. I have a lot of photos from his visit at the time. 

At the Greens Apartments in December of 1989

But that Christmas I really don't recall. I know that I had made friends with some people there at the Greens, but not so much that anyone invited me to spend Christmas with them. It's funny how people forget "lonely guys" during the holidays, and we're much too proud to admit that we'd like to be invited somewhere. I suppose that on Christmas Day I just went over to the practice green at El Caro to practice my putting, or something like that.

It was another "lonely guy" Christmas for me, but I was glad to be in Phoenix, and glad to be home. 
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