This spring, the Arias trial seemed to be the dominant topic of conversation in the Maryvale press box, if only because one reporter from Milwaukee watched the coverage non-stop and then spent most of the game telling us the details even more non-stop.
To be honest, his ramblings are about as much as I know. I’m not paying attention to it. My wife tells me I tend to tune a lot of things out – it’s something I’ve done since the credit crunch of 2008, where the news would cause me to forget I had buyers still wanting to buy at the supposed end of the world – but, frankly, as this doesn’t seem to be something that impacts me or my family in any way, shape or form, I’ve just let it go.
Now, the trial has been a boon for Downtown Phoenix and the Legends District. I’m thinking there are some restaurant owners who can retire on what they’re making just off the cast and crew from HLN. And, fortunately, once the circus leaves town they’ll still have the Diamondbacks and the residents who have moved into an area so envisioned in 2005 when the market collapsed but only now coming to fruition.
Lucky Strike Lanes, the Arrogant Butcher, the Tilted Kilt, Cooperstown (yes, Alice’s place), the Blue Hound, the Hard Rock Cafe … if you haven’t visited the Legends District in a while, there’s a more than decent chance you’ll never recognize it.
Did I mention there’s convenient Light Rail access?
Maybe I ought to pay attention to the trial and put off this annoying little thing called a career. After all, if the jurors really need this much time to figure out what’s going on either it’s far more compelling than I thought or jury per diem is much more than I had imagined it to be.
While they do that, I’m off to Laveen to hand a happy new homeowner – they of the 54-week short sale – their keys, check out another property for an investor and go find some sushi for lunch.
Hopefully, HLN won’t be on when I get there.