Food City: There Goes The (My) Neighborhood

Here's the thing: I was planning on writing about the closing of Food City in my neighborhood (the one at 1st and Ft. Lowell) for quite some time. Thing is, my old laptop decided to take a big poop and just stop working, right after I uploaded a bunch of photos I took of the store's last day. That day was strange indeed.

It was really odd to see the once vibrant yet slightly creffy grocery shop with empty shelves and the produce area that beamed with color from the vast varieties of peppers sit dark and barren. Even though the store was down to, oh, I'd say 40% of what they usually have in stock, people were still walking around with carts as if nothing was happening. I mean, the items that were on the shelves weren't even discounted! There was no "Last Day, All Things Must Go!" sale going on. People were just going on as if it was just another day, not the last day of their neighborhood Food City. It felt like people were shopping in a recently shelled market, still smoldering from the bombing, but needed canned Alpo and decaf Folgers stat, no matter the tragedy or depressing environment. 

The photos I got were great. That makes losing them so painful. Images of worn counters that have seen endless hands, barren refrigerated areas sitting warm and waiting to be dismantled and the butcher block that provided delicious meats and chicharron that was all but forgotten. But, whatever. Nothing I can do about it now. 

Luckily I had the chance to speak with a manager that day, mainly because I was walking around taking pictures and I wanted to be sure if it was cool to be doing that, who looked as if he was relieved that the store was on its way out. Can't really remember the exact, yet brief, conversation we had, but the sum was that all employees were taken very good care of, were being reinstated to other Basha's owned businesses or just quit and went on to other ventures as they were done scanning EBT cards and locking up baby formula because of theft. Yeah, Food City has that vibe and clientele, but for me, it was kind of magic. 

What remains of the interior of my neighborhood Food City

Having shopped in small corner bodegas for a long time back in California, it was nice to see one on steroids. Food City was like a crappy carniceria hopped up on Gamma rays. I loved it from the moment I walked into the one down the street from our house. It was the music that got me first. Loud, boisterous Cumbria and Mariachi music, all sung proudly in Spanish, unapologetically boomed throughout the spacious store. Not to mention the products. Acres of cotija cheese, Abuelita hot chocolate, marinated steak and chicken swimming in brightly colored flavor baths and avocados cheap as 2 for 5. I mean, yeah, they were bright green and hard as a rock but put those guys in a brown paper bag for a day or two and, whammo!, you got guac ready avocados sold to you for a song. 

So when the word got around that my local Food City was going to be shut down I got a little dismayed. Where am I going to buy my peppers now? What about cheap mixers for drinks? Freshly made tortillas that doesn't come from a nice lady selling them out of a truck? Donald Duck orange juice...where am I supposed to get that now? 

A week before the closure, the day I heard about it and a few days before I walked around the almost empty space with my camera, I was buying some stuff and asked the lady who was ringing me up what was to become of my beloved neighborhood Food City.

"Oh, they're going to turn this into a Wal-Mart," she said scanning my pinto beans. "Like the supermarket kind."

Not too sure what a 'hone' is

A Wal-Mart? Just a half mile from our house? At the corner of Ft. Lowell and 1st Ave? Just spitting distance from my library job? Are you serious? 

Oh yeah. She was serious. 

Having lived in mostly metropolitan cities in California, I had heard about Wal-Mart but never stepped foot in one. Why would I? There was nothing but other smaller and like minded shops to purchase toilet paper in bulk or a sheet set when it was time to change out the old abused one. The first time I walked into a Wal-Mart was late December in 2006 here in Tucson. Some new pals I had become friends with needed to buy last minute Xmas gits. We had been drinking, it was cold out and roaming the parking lot at the location on Wetmore Rd. was a nutty guy donning a mattress tied to his back. Not too sure if he was expecting to pass out soon or if he was just a busy male prostitute. Either one, I was hesitant to step through the sliding doors that would lead me into vast retail flabbergast. 

I hated Wal-Mart immediately. It was too bright, too big, smelled of fart and tube sock and with my inebriation the whole station hummed with abandoned hope and the hex of discounted feminine hygiene products. It was late, like almost midnight, a Thursday, and there were families with little kids shuffling around. That questionable account was only marred by the seeming gangs that were at hand. No seriously. Like by hardware, there was a gaggle of Crip looking dudes all dressed in blue, but over by electronics, there was a mess of guys all donning red. Was...was there going to be a rumble? In a Wal-Mart?

Luckily my friends found what they needed and we exited before any proverbial poo went down. But it took a while. There were at least twenty cashier stations but only two cashiers were seen. The lines at that Wal-Mart at midnight, the Thursday before Xmas 2006 were serpentine and dispiriting. 

It was then that I knew I was not a fan of this or any Wal-Mart. 

The surviving business in Amphi Plaza

Okay, yes, I have been to Wal-Mart's after that experience. How can you not? If your garden hose breaks, which it does after lots of use and surviving Tucson's brutal summers, you can either go to another big box store or go to Wal-Mart and get it for half the cost. Still though...that place gives me panic attacks. 

Now they want to build a "neighborhood" Wal-Mart (which is essentially a super supermarket) in my neighborhood and I have a sinking feeling this move is going to change the landscape of midtown Tucson, for better or for worse.

On top of the threat of the retail giant, lots of old homes and crappy apartments midtown are getting torn down to make way for mildly pricey condos. When I'm out working in the garden or just hanging out with Lil' Poundcake (our cat) on the patio, I can hear the pounding of hammers, the beep beep's of reversing power vehicles and the smell of freshly laid tar. 

Now, I'm not trying to sound like a curmudgeon-y old man that just don't like change 'cuz it confuses me and, well, why can't things just stay the same? If it aint broke, don't fix it! I was doin' just fine with those meth labs up the street...why tear 'em down? Stupid progress! Where's my Activia?

No. What I am saying here is that the little universe that is the square area of 1st Ave / Prince / Campbell / Grant is going to be a lot different in a few short years. Thing is, we like our little hidden cabin in the middle of all this. It's cheap, it's near everything and best of all it's fairly quiet. But with all this development, we fear of rent hikes or even getting bought out. What's going to happen to La Botana, which has one of my favorite burritos in Tucson (I'll touch on that in a future Homeskillet), that sits on the corner of Amphi Plaza, right where the neighborhood Wal-Mart is proposing to call home? Will it endure or will it become a Starbucks? I'll really miss their Percheron and their queso blanco if it does. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The long area of dead stores in the fading Amphi Plaza still sits in quasi memorial, a testimony to dusty ideas and failed trials of the past. Except Food City.

That place was awesome. That is something I am still dealing with. 

The stretch of the old Food City and various other abandoned business

It's just sad to walk or drive by the crumbling facade of that Food City, my old go to spot for produce and Mexican fare, just a short distance from home. All the signage is gone, all that's left is good memories...except, much like Wal-Mart, there was always like a dozen check out depots but only three staff members manning them. So, yeah, I often stood there with my blue basket full, listening to the hopping musica over the crackling speakers and being on the constant lookout for a possible cashier opening up that I can quickly dive into. But that rarely came. When the texts from She-Ra would come asking what's the hold up, all I could do was answer back "Foo Shi**y" and she would understand. 

All I want to do now is thank Food City for being there for us for so long and your graffiti'd husk is but a reminder of things moving in that could be a boon or a bust for our immediate community. It's great to see Tucson moving up and moving on to newer and bigger prospects, but I hope the new kids that do step in are cool. Because if you're cool, we're cool. But if you're not cool, well...

Don't make me turn into that crusty old man. I'm too young and I'm just not ready for that Activia stuff. 

Unless you have it on sale. 

Then... Well, let's just say we'll see what happens. 

Cheers.

Thank you Food City, sorry to see you go

Camera and Typing
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
First Day of February, 2016

Metal Influence:

Brujeria

"Matando Gueros"

Seven Classic and Original Holiday Cocktails You Definitely Need To Be Drinking Right Now!

There is just something about the holiday season that just makes folks say:

"What the heck? It's Christmas! Sure, one more round...on me."

This time of year usually brings out that secret drinker in folks that normally don't imbibe on a regular basis. Maybe that's why a lot of people don't enjoy the holidays; they're too hungover to fully grasp how awesome everything is. The lights, the food, the presents, the fam...

Okay, maybe that's it. Your extended family.

When you only get to see Uncle Carl and Aunt Vera once a year, that's when the wine glasses get filled to the brim and you just plop in an extra hit of hooch into the eggnog. It's not like they're not nice people, it's just, well...Carl always has a rather, slightly, oh...shall we say, extreme view about the current political situation and Vera just has that rash. But they're family (sigh) so you gotta love 'em, right? Sure you do!

Knowing that people who read the Tucson Homeskillet fully realize that we like to imbibe on a, oh, fairly regular basis. The holidays just bring out a certain panache for cocktails and shots that we normally would pass on. Milk and eggs in my drink? Please. What are we making pancakes here? But when December hits you better believe we are noggin' it up. 

Warming up, getting ready to throw down some cold drinks

With the help of Erik (Chili) Hulten, owner of our favorite neighborhood pub, Danny's Baboquivari, we compiled seven holiday concoctions that you seriously are gonna need this time of year...especially if your brother and sister-in-law bring those kids of theirs. Yeah, the ones that like to do ballet moves and make you watch over and over again and you have to go "Oh, you're so good!" even though they suck but their overly praising parents wont tell them any different so you're stuck there trying to look around them to catch a glimpse of the game but then they catch you not watching them suck at ballet and immediately go into a tantrum. 

Well, dear readers, the Tucson Homeskillet is here to help. These drink recipes will be a sure fire hit to any family gathering, work related party, neighborhood get together or parole hearing this holiday season.

Are you ready?

Let's drink!

Chili: The Man, the Myth, the, uh...Myth Man!

1) The "Blitzen"

We're gonna start you off right here with a slightly challenging shot. This one will get you where you need to be when grandma starts talking about her girdles again. It's layered, kinda tricky, but it looks good and feels even better going down. A tad sweet but, hey, it's the holidays! 

You don't have to but using the back of a spoon to get the liquid in correct might be a good idea. Unless you're a pro like Chili here. My man just went for it.

  (all ingredients are equal amounts, just use your eye and judgement)

First/Red Layer: Grenadine

Second/Green Layer: Creme de Menthe

Third/White Layer: Vanilla Vodka

Top with Whipped Cream

 It's good right? Like I said, a bit sweet but if you just hork it down in one gulp you wont even notice. Now grandma is endorsing an adult diaper brand. C'mon man...

2) Brandy Alexander

Now, me personally, I'm not a fan of brandy. Again, it's that sweet factor. But when you put it in an old school classic like the Brandy Alexander here...forget about it. I'm in. This is the perfect cocktail to pair with that hipster cousin of yours, the one that only collects vinyl records, boasts about not owning a TV and just made assistant to the assistant manager at Blimpie's. It's sharp, creamy and very yummy next to an open fire on a chilly winter night. 

1 oz Cream or Milk

1 oz Brandy or Cognac (I actually prefer the cognac)

1 oz Creme de Cacao 

Shake well, strain and serve in a martini glass and garnish with nutmeg

Wow. That hit the spot.  Now that cousin is spinning about some new band you have never heard of and they look at you as if you are the lamest person ever because you've never heard of them. You know, John Lennon loved Brandy Alexanders. John who?

Whatever kid. Nice beard and hair bun you got going on there.

3) Irish Coffee

It's cold out. You wanna stay buzzed but need a pick me up. Mom's ham is taking forever because she forgot to turn the oven on (like always) and the Ballard's in from Indiana haven't arrived yet. It's gonna be a long night. The Ballard's always have some small yappy lap dog that pisses on your knee when it gets too excited. You need some comfort in your belly. The time honored Irish Coffee is exactly what Dr. Metal Mark ordered. Here's how we like to do it:

1 - 3 oz Jameson whiskey (depending on the size of the mug)

Good medium roast coffee, fresh brewed

Splash of Milk, hint of Sugar 

Whipped Cream spiraled and piled high on top

Put them all together and what have you got?  Salvation. The Ballard's have finally arrived and, oh...there it is, their lil dog named Choo-Choo. Isn't it sweet? Oh look, Choo-Choo just made a train for your ankle and is humping the crap out of it. Best to just ride it out. Drink your Irish Coffee, listen to Tony Bennett sing "The Christmas Song" and secretly ask Santa for a small catapult, one just big enough for a horny lap dog to be put into orbit. 

Ahh...

4) Egg Nogg (yes with two G's then put umlauts over them to make it more Metal)

It isn't Christmas if there isn't some eggnog around, am I right? Sure, at the office holiday party they just serve it up all milky, eggy and straight. Not at your place though. Oh no no no. At your place you like to light the nog on fire, literally, with some form of brown booze. When your neighbor brings over some weird olive loaf for the potluck, you're gonna need to suck one of these down before giving that misshapen log a go. Here's a step by step method on making the cold nights cheery and bright.

4 Egg Yolks/4 Egg Whites

1/3 cup + 1 tbs Sugar

Pint of Real Whole Milk

I cup Heavy Cream

Nutmeg

Beat egg yolks until they lighten in color. Slowly add sugar till dissolved. Add the milk, cream and nutmeg. Beat egg whites (in a separate bowl) until soft. Beat in 1tbs sugar. Whisk egg whites with mixture. Chill.

Now here's the best part:

Add 1-3 oz Spiced Rum, Bourbon or Whiskey

Oh man that's good. The Egg Nogg you just made I mean. Oh, that olive loaf thing? Hideous. What is that? Some kind of cheese, or...?  Doesn't matter. Just put that jagged piece of shame at the end of the table (precariously near the trash bin)  and all will be merry.

And the stockings were hung with care, under a big TV and next to the toilets

5) Chili's Special Mulled Wine

You know that one person in your life that only drinks wine, and, like, only on special occasions. But when they do, hoo doggies!, the entertainment begins. The introvert becomes the center of attention, the quiet become the noise makers and the usually sober become a mockery of that notion. Chili here has concocted a special blend of the classic Mulled Wine for your holiday merrymaking. You think Agnes from accounting gets a little "feisty" when she's had some Chablis? After a rock n roll of this stuff, the socks come off and she's moonwalking into your crotch region. Let's go:

Nice (or cheap as hell) Red Wine or Port

Splash of Jack Daniels Honey Whiskey

Splash of Jack Daniels Fire Whiskey

Heat this stuff for a minute in the microwave, serve hot

See, you don't need to add all those mulling spices and whatnot...the flavored booze does all that work for you. No joke, this is powerful stuff and really really delicious. So much in fact that Agnes just downed another glass of it. Oh no, here she comes again. Now she's singing Adele while pointing in your general direction wearing  reindeer antlers with little bells at the end. Time to flee.

6) Holiday Punch (In The Face)

Sometimes in the midst of the holidays you just miss the drinks of summertime's past. The days now are short, its dark around 5pm and when the alarm goes off in the morning it's still bleak and damp out. You don't really want to deviate from the traditional drinks of the season but, well, you do recall that electric fruit punch you enjoyed at that beach party in July and, oh man, would that go down easy right now. Chili has just the solution. His Holiday Punch is a throwback to warmer days and nights yet still holds true to holiday libations. You know those pictures of Santa Claus in a Hawaiian shirt cold lampin' on a beach in a fold out chair? It's sort of like that. You've seen those images because your balding chumguzzler of a cousin freakin' loves Jimmy Buffett. Ugh. And when he throws on "Christmas Island" into your well thought out Pandora holiday mix, all you can do is suck down like ten of these.  For real.

Light Bodied Red Wine

Cranberry Juice

Ginger Ale

Squeeze of Lime and Lemon

Vodka

Mix this all together and serve on the rocks in a festive glass with an orange slice garnish

No need for absolute pours for this devise, you're a big kid now and you can control whatever levels of juice and booze you want.  Have fun! And get that Jimmy Buffett crap out of the mix. We're trying to have a party here, not a regret filled white guy's mid life crisis intervention. 

Jeeze.

Merry jingle...uh...ho ho...um...yeah, I'll have another

7) Santa's Little Sperm Sample

It's getting late. Most of the food has been eaten. Grandpa is snoring in the easy chair. The kids are off playing video games. Your niece is showing you her new art project, one that involves tampons and shellac. The music is humming in the distance when you get a text from your buddy. "Doing last call at the bar...u down?", it reads. Yeah, you down. But knowing that your friends are probably much more blotto than you and you are not ready to leave the coziness and flavor of Christmas behind just yet, you're going to need a little incentive. This shot will get you there, quick, along with keeping with the spirit of things. The name of this shot is perfect because, well, if ol' K. Kringle does, you know, "donate" to the facilities here and there I bet it would taste something like this. It lingers in cinnamon, hovers in spice, has a distinct pumpkin kick and is, uh, creamy as well. And it's scrumptious. Just ask Ms. Claus.

It's easy, all you need is:

Molly's Pumpkin Spice Irish Cream

Fireball Whiskey

That's it. Combine the two ingredients in equal parts in a chilled shot glass and down the hatch! Now you are ready to go out with your dorky friends and make an evening's worth of bad decisions. But, hey!, it's the holidays so...why not?


Hope you enjoy these drinks just as much as we did. Remember: Be cool about how much you drink though. I mean, look at my face in the picture below. You don't wanna end up like that do ya? Of course not.


Cheers!

Metal Mark has lost count as to how many Holiday Punches he has had...typical

Camera and Typing
"Metal" Mark Whittaker
Second Week in December, 2015

Metal Influence

King Diamond

"No Presents for Christmas"

When a neighborhood comes together.

For about ten years now I have called Tucson home. Having moved from the rent insanity and trivial bustle of San Francisco (where I lived for twelve years), I enjoy the laid back pure eccentricity of this, the lil desert hamlet that could. The people are genuine, the cost of living is very doable, the dive bars are real dive bars and have yet to be scavenged by neo-hipsters (but I do see it unfolding before my eyes...) and the food is some of the best I have ever had. Living on the coast of California my whole life I thought I knew what "real" Mexican food was and tasted like. Not until I move here mister. That initial bite of a Sonoran hot dog the first full day I was here I knew I was hooked. My food appreciation had become a food obsession and 20+ pounds later, post five years as a chef and now writing this blog, my love of eating and cooking has only increased by my belt line.

Thing is, and here is something I have noticed about Tucson: neighbors don't really know their neighbors. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong, but it seems that folks do their thing, come home and lock the doors. Or...maybe that's just She-Ra and me. Sure we know one or two names of people that live near us, but for the most part they just have nick names like "Crazy Ambulance Driver Guy" and "Nice Bald Lesbian". It's not like we're anti-social, far from it, we both work with the public for our day jobs and immediately there after you can find us in one of our local pubs chatting it up with the regulars and bartenders. But when it comes to actual home time, we lock the gate and shut the real world out. It is glorious.

When I was a kid growing up in the suburban bliss that was Glendale, CA, a neighborhood-y division of Los Angeles, my dad and I pretty much knew the names of all that were in the immediate vicinity. There were holiday parties, birthday picnics, summertime cookouts and, most importantly, annual block parties hosted by our friends and neighbors and, sometimes, us. These were events that we didn't even think about; they just were and you just attended. It was fun, a healthy retreat for new and longtime residents of your tiny universe and ones that we looked forward to and even extensively planned for.

But as time moved on, technology began to take over and the idea of a neighborhood block party faded into hard bound photo albums and scrapbooks. So were my memories of Mr. Greenstein burning the hot dogs that one year, or when it began raining so hard during an outdoor function that we all huddled on the Babinski's porch and the kids watched the adults get drunk on Michelob, or the time my buddy Mike put mirrors on his shoes so he could look up Brook Hill's summer dress. Stupid things like that. Thing is, those times created dusty photographs and reminiscence that I will never be able to recreate. So when some friends of ours decided to bring the art of the block party back, the Tucson Homeskillet was there and ready to relive those golden moments of neighborly good will.

Nestled near the Winterhaven area of Tucson, the first annual 'Scorchin' Pig Roast' was the brain child of proud parents and proud new homeowners Debby Riccard and John "Gonzo" Gonzales. Their idea was to bring their friends, family and neighbors together for, what they thought was going to be, a one time big time old fashioned block party.

Let's see, umm...yes please!

"We I had been thinking of having a Pig Roast for a long time to get all of our family and friends together," says Gonzo as he balances not only a child but a margarita. "One morning we decided that we wanted to have one and said 'lets text people now and see if they are interested'.  We received enough immediate response and decided at that moment that we would have the pig roast.  I immediately developed a rather basic website and invitation to the pig roast....and the rest followed." 

Ears, snout and jowl...best part of the pig!

Well, let me tell you, She-Ra and I are very grateful to be friends with Deb and Gonzo because this first annual event was a smashing success. It really brought me back to yonder days of outdoor fiestas with old and soon to be friends. Kids were splashing in the pool, bands were playing, people were laughing and, most importantly, everyone was eating the bounty of pit cooked pig.

You...have no idea.

"We thought the aura of a Pig Roast was a way to bring more people together," said Debby trying to find a place to sit and eat, "and there were also some traditional ties to John's family as his mother is from Caguas, Puerto Rico."

My first plate, about to be demolished...

See, I'm not just writing about some friends that threw a decent party one night and the food was okay. No, it goes beyond that. This event is a rarity in a time where folks just don't seem to know or even trust their neighbors anymore. Now, I'm not trying to spout some atavistic Mayberry crap but...on the other hand, so what if I am? What's wrong with having some friends and neighbors come over once a year, everyone bringing a little something to the party, and for just one moment we put down the phones and turn off the video games? I like Mayberry. Who doesn't like Mayberry?

Honestly, when they told me about this event I immediately saw some potential for a sort of throwback Homeskillet article, one that can encourage fellow Tucsonians (or...Tucsonans? Which one did we decide on?) to possibly get some inspiration from Deb and Gonzo and throw our own block party. 

It can happen! I have faith in you Tucson...

If only this blog had Smell-O-Vision...

"In this day and age I think it is more difficult for everyone to imagine having a block party," notes Gonzo, looking almost a little disappointed. "Society as a whole can be a more dangerous place and more and more people are enveloped in technology and locked in their homes.  No one takes the time to go outside and realize they are a part of a world called Earth.  If neighborhoods would take the time to get involved and reach out to each other, have a party or get together annually or semi- annually, we could revive the block party or at the very least create a friendly community."

Amen!

Had to take a break from plate #2...

Okay, this is a food blog so I'm gonna get into the food here. 

The pig was amazing. They slow cooked this thing in a hand built "pit" that was actually ground level so the walls came close to about 3 or 4 ft, smoked in a combo of charcoal and mesquite wood. The ears, snout and jowls, my favorite part!, were crispy and decadent. The fatty ratio to the rest of the hog was pretty large, as expected, so cutting it with a sweet or tart thick sauce really brought it together. It was delicious as it was or when I made a pulled pork sandwich on a fluffy pretzel roll. 

And roll is what I did when it came time to leave... 

Where the action all took place

The smoke point on this wood is simply magical

"We had to really dig deep to prepare for the first annual Pig Roast," sites Deb explaining the preparation to develop such a gala as this, "as we had never thrown one before and we wanted it to be successful and have one each year to follow.  We used excavators to tear out trees that we had cut down, we laid tile (not 100% finished by party time) in the living room and kitchen, networked with friends to borrow things such as the kegerator, a large canopy, musicians, assistance in building the pit and the margarita machine just to mention a few. Landscaping was done in the back yard and tables, chairs, and trash cans were rented. So, yeah, not easy and not cheap."

Neighbors digging on the tunes and food coma...

But was and is it all worth it, I had to ask.

"Oh yes!" was the resounding answer.

Still not too sure what a 'horny pickle' is...

Here's the thing. The first annual Pig Roast was held, and will probably be held, the first Saturday in August. Now, for those that may not know, or don't frequent Tucson in mid/late summer, that time of year is known as "monsoon season". 

Now, monsoons here in the high southwest desert are a blessing. They provide a bit of respite from the barreling heavy heat and give us some well needed rain. On this particular time, just about the moment they were to pull the pig from the steam pit, Tucson was hit with a torrential downpour. 

Like, literally, the hog was scheduled to be lifted out at 4pm...and that's when the Almighty unzipped the sky and tears of a trillion angels careened upon us at, like, 3:59pm. 

Won't let bad weather dampen the tunes or the spirits...

I was at work at the library when the pitter-patter of heavy droplets began to hit the midtown branch. From our view out the big back window, dark clouds loomed and rain drops were jutting down, cutting in sideways. 

"Oh no," I thought. "This sucks. I sure hope the pig roast is still happening. More important, I hope the pig is still happening..."

Drying off after the monsoon hit

When we arrived I asked if the sudden storm caused any problems.

"Temporarily," admitted Gonzo. "Our front large tent was in major distress, with many guests scrambling to save the tent from total destruction from the wind and rain while musicians protected their equipment.  The pig was being carved at the time and created a rather tense situation.  Initially, everyone involved was shocked.  But fortunately, it actually created a memorable event and laughs took over as everyone rebuilt the tents, drank and continued to carve the pig."

Hey...thanks!

Yes! See, it was moments like that which always made the best memories. In fact, I'm glad a random monsoon swung in and threatened to ease the good times that were being had by all. As with most monsoons, it came and went just as quickly as it had started so by the time we grabbed our first drink and plate, the tents were back up, the music was back on and the kids were playing hard as all kids should right before school is about to start.

These kids are going for U of A toss across scholarships...

After relaying some tales of block party awesome that I was privy to in my more innocent years, I just had to know if they plan on doing this annually.

"This is definitely intended to be an annual event!," Deb assures me with a mighty grin. "Our goal and intent is for this event to grow each year, and bring family and friends together each year.  How cool is it to be attending the 8th annual pig roast and realize you have new friends that you have met at the 1st annual.  Or now your eight year old is grown and remembers being at the 3rd annual playing games and meeting their new friends as well."

So awesome...

Golden rays hitting the surrounding trees...

Cool. Now I just hope some readers out there take the lead in their own neighborhood and do the same as these guys. It doesn't take much, just a little elbow grease, some cash and the help of our friends and family, related or not, to make a fun shindig for making memories that will last longer than a Snapchat photo. Because this party was one that will inspire many more to come. 

"Definitely!," piped Gonzo when I asked if Tucson should be home to more block parties such as this. "Tucson needs more event such as these for people to be a part of.  I would hope that our Pig Roast will be an extremely large even within five years." 

Just. So. Much. Food. Yes!

I mean, you don't have to do an elaborate splurge such as the Scorchin' Pig Roast, far from it. Heck, most of the block parties I went to were like hot dogs and Ms. Wong's ambrosia salad with some cheap beer and a radio. Still, somebody had the notion to be all "It's a beautiful summer day! I've got a cooler and a bar-be-que. Come one, come all. Bring the dog."

Heck, in this day and age you could do a vegan cook off and homemade beer extravaganza, or perhaps the hipsters can congregate and have an annual 'Ironic Moustache' competition and inflatable pool party or even a build a grill out of old Jenga pieces and bits of your roommate's waterbed because he hasn't paid rent in two months type of get together. 

Point is, you're getting together, with friends and neighbors, with family that you adopted and that adopted you, for one shining day and night for the purpose of "Dude...why not?" which can possibly bring us all a little closer in the time of not-too-social media. Sure, I internet most of the day, have devises and text instead of call, but I do prefer a nice lawn chair, a cold beverage, hot drippy meat of some kind served on a questionable paper plate while listening to good music over any status update or Instagram hashtag anyday. 

But....that's just me.

Beautiful sunset after a beautiful day...

When night began to creep in, when the kids began to get a little cranky and, most importantly, when the food hallucinations began to take hold, we knew it was time to call it. As we made our way out, thanking Deb and Gonzo and taking one last bite of a crispy pig ear, I couldn't help but think that even through all the years since those little get togethers in Glendale, it felt as nothing had changed. For one sparkling moment, a very well welcome deja vu set in and I couldn't help but smile. 

Yeah I'm an adult now, but just a small moment with people I pretty much had no idea who they were, became friends, just like when random neighborhood kids would skuttle in Victor's mom's Korean BBQ block party, we were pals for an instant and then we'd never see each other again. But I sure hope that's not the case for this party. 

Because I forgot to get the coleslaw recipe from that nice lady in the purple top. What was her name? Ah, it doesn't matter...

I'll see her again next year. 

Typing and Camera

"Metal" Mark Whittaker

Early August, 2015

Metal Influence

Municipal Waste, "The Art of Partying"

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XUH8l1IWQaA