Category: New Mexico

What’s an "e" among friends…..?

I love me some Arnold Vigil. I read his column in the ABQjournal all the time but have never blogged about him, mainly because he seems to say it all just right. I usually can’t even comment more, he got it and wrestled it to the ground with perfect words.

Mr. Vigil is the epitome of New Mexico to me, and reading his column makes me homesick. I usually need a hug after reading his hilarious stuff…..(heh!)

But I just had to put up something today. He wrote a column so spot on that I had to highlight it.

I believe the quote of the day is thus, “…it’s not that they didn’t teach me, it’s just that they taught me wrong.” A feeling shared, I’m sure, by the many victims, er, students of the vast New Mexico public school system.

Today Mr. Vigil takes to task those who forget that our chile comes with an e, not an i as in chili. Now…both chile and chili have value…I enjoy them both. And I’ve often enjoyed some chile on my chili….

This whole topic came up again in reference to that kerfuffle in Madrid, (briefly blogged here) where the folks in that small town didn’t take too kindly to some east coast outsider wanting to have a festival there (and capitalize on the popularity of the movie “Wild Hogs”.) The guy totally blew it (and forever marked himself an outsider) by dropping a big fat steaming “i” where once an “e” should be.

This quote has forever endeared Mr. Vigil to me (as I’ve ranted in these very pages about the “Christmas” issue):

“Personally, I was afraid that if they did spell chile the other way, they might have got our upstanding lawmakers to temporarily change the official state question as well. That’s right, “Red or Green?” would have changed that weekend to “Mustard or Mayo?”— much more palatable to the rest of our hamburger-eating nation. And the official answer, you ask? Why, “July 4th,” of course, a colorful splattering of both condiments, with maybe some Taco Bell hot sauce thrown in.”

Ha!

Note To Mr. Vigil: ORALE! You got it right, brotha!

Just because you *can* doesn’t mean you *should*

That whirring sound you hear is my departed father spinning in his grave as I write this.

Read Albuquerque Tribune columnist Thelma Domenici today regarding when it is appropriate to wear a bolo tie…..

Evidently it’s the Official Neckwear of New Mexico.

First the Official Cookie and now this? WTF have those legislators been doing since I left my fair state?

So Thelma in her incredibly polite and well worded way says, “…men will need to look at local customs and attire to determine whether a bolo tie would be appropriate.”

Yeah, is it? Ever?

My dad eschewed actual ties for years and my mom couldn’t GET him to wrap a strip of fabric around his neck. Nope, it was bolo ties only for him. For years. He was an engineer. That means a short sleeved white button shirt, bolo tie and pocket protector (I’m not making this up, I swear I wish I was).

He had quite the collection. I have many of them now. If only to keep someone else (like my brother…also an engineer) from donning them….

I know, I know…it’s a Southwest thang. But it just smacks of seventies Urban Cowboy trying too hard. I know there are some beautifully handcrafted bolo ties out there that are more like art than a string tie…but still.

Unless you are headed out to an Engineers Retiree’s Banquet…the answer is…no.

To borrow from Thelma’s catchphrase…not looking like a dork never goes out of style….

Side note to Bill Richardson: Nice idea, doesn’t help yer 4 percent-er situation…..

The embodiment of one of my worst fears EVER

As a kid, we used to go camping a lot. I loved camping, still do. But as my family slept there in the Apache pop up trailer, I was always SCARED TO DEATH of bears. I mean, as a kid in New Mexico, you know bears are out there. You hear about them on the news, the hungry creature who wanders into civilization for some garbage can treats.

And then there’s waking up in the morning to find your campsite trashed….that a bear was THERE while you slept.

The Apache trailer at least offered a bit of safety. The big plastic box and where I slept was at least up off the ground.

Then there are the times I’ve slept in a tent. Now don’t get me wrong, I LOVE LOVE LOVE camping. But I always have those “what if” moments when in a tent.

Well, poor Bill Thorp of Las Cruces has now lived one of my top ten worst fears.

He was in his tent. He heard a rustling. He shut the tent flap and lay back down. Then he got bit. ON THE BUTT. Through the tent.

Brother man was having a nice campout and got chomped on the arse.

That ain’t right.

Sleeping in a tent with my face by a thin layer of fabric, I’ve ALWAYS had terror of being bit through the tent by a bear.

Not only this guy lived it, so did a teen near Raton. He felt a poking at the side of the tent and thinking it was one of his family members playing a joke, he slapped at it. The bear took this none too kindly and bit him on the arm.

Waa! Is this skeeve out Karen week!?? First spiny caterpillars and now this!?! I may not sleep right for *days*!

source

Perspective

You know, I’m cranky today. I’ve got a crappy job at a decent company and I have to deal with a lot of pink-cheese idiots all day long. It wears me out, it really does.

All the whining, the complaining, the yelling, the arm waving.

So in order to avoid work I instead surfed the ABQjournal. Nice diversion.

So I read this article and in an odd way felt better about my fate.

See, I have to deal with real a-holes every day, but my livelihood isn’t now teetering helplessly on the progress of a bunch of hungry spiky caterpillars.

“… research has shown that just a few of them can eat as much grass as a yearling cow.”

Waaa!

“… the caterpillars, which can grow to a couple of inches long, are lined with tiny hairs shaped like tree branches that sting.”

WAAAA!

Folks are trying to figure out how to stop these wild stampeding things. Damn.

Ok, back to work.

(this is a “stock” photo, probably not the right critter, but enough to make me shudder and go “bwaaaahhhuggggeeerrrrgh!”)