We were in Phoenix, cruising in Patty Duffek's vintage Mustang, a '67 ragtop in the throes of restoration. Patty's driving style is all-American: Point it and punch it, left hand on the wheel and right hand darting periodically to the stereo. She loves the car. You can tell by the way she sits in it, head high, body hunched forward, like a jockey on a favorite horse. Outside, Phoenix flew by, all brand-new and sparkling, lying low and wide under the bowl of blue sky and sunshine that is its tradmark. It seems very few buildings in the town rise above the fourth floor. Around the newer buildings, which are in the majority, you're amazed to see acres of land, space to grow some more. What we used to call elbowroom.
Patty grew up in this sun-baked openness, and it would take a lot to get her away. "It's kind of like a little Western town, that's mostly what it is. I like the climate. I don't mind hot weather."
A good thing, too, since summertime highs in this desert town ...
