"Blogging stresses me out." This is the comment Emily made while trying to begin this particular post which was intended to discuss our trip to Arizona this past weekend. (She has, please mind you, a Journalism degree from Northwestern University and worked as a grant writer for a number of years.) So, instead of continuing my jumping for joy during the Fox News re-cap of Brett Farve's "emotional presser" of a press conference, I have taken over at least the beginning of this blog.
Now, on to the purpose of this post. This past weekend we went to Scottsdale, Arizona, to surprise my Dad for his 60th birthday. Not knowing we were to be at the party (bit tautologous, yes), my father was quite shocked to see Emily and me answer the door. The evening was definitely a hit - a handful of mangums of wine and friends from just about all decades of his life (the Tanseys hosted and the guests were the Mastalirs from Denver, the Wilsons also from Denver and now Tucson, the Fishes from Minneapolis, the Golinvauxs from Minneapolis and Scottsdale, and of course Drew, now from Venice, CA).
The night after the surprise party we went to do dinner at Richardson's. This little place is interesting for one reason besides the great food and that is the origin of the cuisine. Below the name on the front of the restaurant is a reference to the food of "New Mexico." Prior to us arriving, there was some debate between by folks if this was actually food from the state of New Mexico or the food of "New" Mexico as opposed to "Old" Mexico. Well, Emily, Drew and I finally settled the dispute in agreement with my dad that this is actually cuisine from the state of New Mexico - the Santa Fe Trail in particular. Who knew...
Sunday night after Richardson's we shipped Drew back to LA. Monday my dad and I let the girls do some shopping while we visited Scottsdale Stadium to see the San Francisco Giants play the Texas Rangers in a spring training game. I am now becoming a believer that spring training is the only place to watch baseball - without all the gimmicks and nonsense that has taken over sports. And Barry Bonds was no where near the premises.
What I failed to mention throughout this post is that during the course of my dad's sixtieth birthday weekend, it was also Emily's 31st birthday (click here to send her a b-day wish). So on the Monday night of this weekend of perpetual celebration we went to Gianfranco's to celebrate Emily's birthday. No controversy at this dinner but it was a nice little Italian place to wrap up the end of our trip.
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