THE EMERALD CITY

Where the blue bird sings-- no that's The Big Rock Candy Mountain. Where angels are ascending and descending-- no that's Jacob's ladder. Benton, Illinois, where my wife got '"city sick" when she stayed overnight with an aunt when CQ was 4 years old. (only she was CG back then: we haven't been married that long, though if you asked her I know it must seem longer to her than it does for me.)

I wrote about The Promise (d) Land earlier this week, so maybe that's what The Emerald City is. A place over the rainbow. A place to find or make your fortune. Something, somewhere calling you.

I used to think St. Louis was it. When I was in junior high and high school, I thought that would be the place. It had the Cardinals and the Big Red, and the Hawks. Also of major importance, it had KXOK radio, 630 AM and it didn't lose its signal at night. Man, to listen to Johnny Rabbitt and the other DJs into the night, well that would be great. (We didn't use the word awesome then in that context.) As close as I got was working for a couple of weeks in the Gateway Emerald City when I was in college.

St. Petersburg, Florida, was the next stop on my Yellow Brick Road. The ocean, the Cardinals' Spring Training home, the obligatory sunshine and warm weather. One hour and fifteen minutes to DisneyWorld. Great seafood, what else could a guy want?

Next to last Emerald City was Marco Island, Florida. Deeper . On the coast. The West coast, more attractive at that time than the busier East Coast. No baseball. But even more sunshine and warmer weather. Also not as many old people as the celebrated St. Pete. Several vacations, all good, made it look as if that's where we'd land eventually.

Until 1991 when we first set our eyes on Phoenix, Arizona. Before then neither of us had traveled any farther west than Colorado. And we were hooked. Even warmer, almost never rainy and cold, that bright blue sky. The Big Red had made it here first. No baseball back then. Pro basketball, but than was waning in my eyes like the importance of a radio station. Although KYOTE, The Coyote 95.5 FM is a favorite. The beautiful desert with palm trees and cactus and blooms almost year round. Great restaurants. Arizona State sports. Lots and lots of golf courses. That did it.

So our Emerald Green City is Scottsdale, just 20 minutes from the airport, another 5 minutes to downtown Phoenix. An hour and a half drive to a Summertime cooler clime, and 5 1/2 hours to an ocean in San Diego. As an old Gerry and the Pacemakers song ends "And here I'll stay; here I'll stay". Lord willing.