Growing up on the East Coast of Florida, my version of ‘out West’ usually meant a friend’s house out past the turnpike – a laboriously long voyage at least 15 minutes away. ย So, when Johnny told me we’d be celebrating Thanksgiving in Paradise Valley, a posh area outside of Scotsdale, Arizona, I excitedly packed my boots and my belt buckles, slathered on an extra layer of moisturizer and giddy’ed on up to the airport. ย Unfortunately, Johnny told me about the trip in October, so it was slightly awkward when security told me I’d have to wait a month. But hey, if you saw this area, you would have rushed to the...
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