  if i told you, i would have had to kill you Here I am! Where am I? Why, in Phoenix, Arizona, of course. Liza and I got here Thursday afternoon and will return to Boston on Monday afternoon. Why haven't I written word one about this trip in my blog? Because it was a surprise. Let me explain. Liza's mother's fiftieth birthday was last Thursday and Liza's dad flew us out to Phoenix for a surprise visit (it was a surprise for her mom, not for us -- we've known about it for more than a month). Needless to say, when her mom saw us lounging in her living room Thursday afternoon, she proceeded to freak out.
In a good way. Liza's dad didn't stop with plane tickets for the two of us, no sir. He took us, along with Liza's mother, sister, brother-in-law, neice and nephew to a place called Gold Canyon Golf Resort, where we spent yesterday afternoon to this morning, lounging, swimming, eating, drinking and watching Liza's mom swoon over her birthday presents. And while the resort is kinda in the middle of nowhere, we were still able to witness fireworks on the horizon coming from Tempe. This Gold Canyon resort is a pretty nice place (and I would provide a link for you, but I'm on Liza's sister's computer, which is a bit temperamental, so I'm not going to fuck around with creating links if you don't mind).
Each couple got their own little suite, and everyone gets driven around in golf carts. I find out more and more that people just aren't into walking anywhere in this part of the country, but I suppose 100-plus temperatures are partly to blame. Anyway, we spent a good part of yesterday afternoon in the resort's lovely swimming pool, then returned to our suites for quick showers, and proceeded to the bar & grill for a couple of beers at the "bar" (where I was informed, sadly, of Barry White's passing) and a wonderful dinner at the "grill.
" After the aforementioned present-opening and fireworks-watching, Liza and I returned to our room to find out that our key-card thing didn't work. We walked over to the front desk where the woman working there aplogized profusely and gave us two new keys. Which didn't work. We walked back to the desk again. More profuse apologies. The bellboy brought us back (via the omnipresent golf cart) with master key-card in hand.
Didn't work. Apparently the key-card door mechanism had a dead battery. I cursed "advances" in technology while Alfonzo the maintenance dude was summoned to open our back patio, which was locked with a bona fide regular, non-electronic lock. Alfonzo didn't have the right key, more employees were thrown into the mix, and suffice it to say that it took an hour for us to get into our room. We were consoled with even more profuse apologies and free breakfast the next morning. But in the grand scheme of things it was really no big deal and so far our mini-vacation has been splendid.
Currently I'm at Liza's sister's house with Liza, babysitting the neice and nephew while Liza's sister and brother-in-law are out running errands. No big plans for the rest of the weekend, but no plan is a good plan as far as I'm concerned. If we get bored we can always go for a swim in her parents' pool. Oh, and did I tell you that Liza, fully aware of my aversion to flying, bought me a Bill Hicks CD for the trip? Oh yeah. A four-and-a-half hour plane trip is no match for caustic, sarcastic venom-spewing stand-up genius. 
