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ellarienI made my usual bi-weekly trip to Phoenix. Nearly lost my book on the shuttle on the way up, and had a ridiculously hard time convincing various people I knew what I was talking about when I maintained that yes, my book was in the back of that van, and no, I wasn't under the impression that it was my SuperShuttle to the suburbs. Did lose my bus-pass on the way back, which is annoying, and very nearly missed my city bus as a result of hanging around to look for it. Otherwise, it was a nice visit.
But it struck me, in the shuttle on the way back, what a rootless place Phoenix is. When I was an undergraduate in Birmingham, England, living in a Hall of Residence eighty miles from home, I was easily the most transient member of the group of seventy-odd I was worshipping with. Now, I commute farther than that every couple of weeks to worship with a couple of dozen people, of whom six are literal refugees from a couple of different African wars, and hardly any of the rest have been here longer than ten years. And the developers keep scraping away old farmhouses and their shading trees to fill the land with cookie-cutter houses and apartments.
But it struck me, in the shuttle on the way back, what a rootless place Phoenix is. When I was an undergraduate in Birmingham, England, living in a Hall of Residence eighty miles from home, I was easily the most transient member of the group of seventy-odd I was worshipping with. Now, I commute farther than that every couple of weeks to worship with a couple of dozen people, of whom six are literal refugees from a couple of different African wars, and hardly any of the rest have been here longer than ten years. And the developers keep scraping away old farmhouses and their shading trees to fill the land with cookie-cutter houses and apartments.
