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27 March Road TripOn Saturday we traveled to Cuba...
No, we didn't see Fidel Castro and I didn't buy a box of Havana cigars. The Cuba we went to is a small town in the heart of the Jemez Pueblo reservation right here in New Mexico. It is located about 65 miles West of Rio Rancho on Highway 550. We went there just for the drive and were rewarded by the sight of many unusual rock formations created by wind and time. I have put 22 pictures of them on the latest photo album. Bear in mind that they were taken from the window of our car on a cloudy day because it is not safe to stop on a 70 MPH highway. Still, they should give some idea of what you see traveling in New Mexico. Sometimes it is like being on another planet.
The dark bushes are Juniper bushes and can be seen anywhere in the desert. They stay green all year so the predominant colors of the landscape are brown and green with some reds thrown in. The white stuff on the ground in the next to last picture is salt residue from dried water. 21 March All That's LeftIt turns out that the rest of the picture box contained mostly family photos and duplicates. However, I did find a few more that might be of interest. Eight of them were taken by Dad and two were taken by someone else of him. One shows him holding his camera with the Speed Graphic logo clearly visible and the other shows him operating a wirephoto machine when he came home on leave from the Navy.
Wirephoto was the method that was used to send pictures from the wire services in those days. It was very slow and the machine put out a high pitched sound that was really annoying. It was the forerunner of fax machines which themselves are rapidly becoming obsolete.
News stories were sent from the wire services via teletype on those big black machines that you see in old war movies. I became very familiar with them when I joined the Air Force as I was a teletype operator in military communications. 20 March Tricky DadLooking through the box of Dad's photos, I discovered the original of the State Street picture. It seems that Dad sepia toned it and added the snow flakes. I put them both in the photo album for comparison.
And he did all this long before Photoshop! 17 March Dad's PicturesBy popular demand, I went into a box that was in the garage that I thought contained my father's photos. I discovered that there were a huge amount. The pictures that I put on represent only a small amount. There will be more later.
They are from different time periods. Some were taken when he was in the Navy. I particularly like the one of State Street in the snow storm. Notice that there were trolley cars back then. Local politicans were paid by Firestone and General Motors to get rid of them and pave over the tracks, otherwise we would have them running now as other countries do. 15 March The PaperMy Father was a photographer for a large upstate New York Newspaper. It wasn't a career that he chose. As a young man in the late 20's he went to work as an apprentice draftsman for the D&H railroad. When the depression hit he, like so many others, lost his job. Fortunately, he was given the oportunity to learn photography by working for the newspaper. He kept that job until the early 70's, a span broken only by several years in the Navy during WWII.
For a great deal of that time he took pictures with a Speed Graphic camera, the kind you see in the old movies. The film was housed in plates that slid into the back of the camera. The pockets of Dad's sport coats were always stretched out from carrying extra plates. All of his gear was kept in a large leather bag that he carried on assignments.
I remember visiting the old newspaper building shorty after my Father came back from the Navy. It was housed in the grimmest part of town, known commonly as The Gut. They were mean streets and the building was little better than a tenement. You had to go up several flights of wooden stairs to reach the city room, darkroom and other offices with the presses being on the first floor. The windows were coated with grime from many years. Despite the huge amounts of cigarettes and cigars smoked there the predominant smell was that of Hypo, a chemical used to process photographs. In the late 70's, when I walked into the building that houses the Omaha World-Herald, the old familiar aroma greeted me at the front door.
A visit to the old place was always fascinating for a young boy. The linotype operators typed on a huge machine working from copy that had been pounded out on a manual typewriter. Metal "slugs" were created that were used to print the paper. They would always make a slug for me that had my name on it.
We would go down into the area where the presses ran and the pressmen would make a little hat for me out of newsprint like they wore to keep the ink out of their hair. The presses were massive and made a lot of noise but I don't ever remember being afraid of them.
Many times I watched my father processing photos. He would place the plate in a photo enlarger that projected the negative picture onto photo sensitive paper. The paper was then put through a series of chemical baths. Finally, as if by magic, the picture would appear slowly on the paper. How the picture got from there onto the newspaper page, I do not know.
During his career, even before the internet, the newspapers started their downhill slide into mediocrity. A new publisher was sent in from corporation headquarters. What had always been called the Capitol District was now Capitoland. My Father hated that kind of cuteness.
It's all changed now. Photography advanced from Speed Graphic to 35mm film and then to the present use of digital cameras. Stories are typed on computers and can be uploaded from any location along with photographs by means of internet connections or wi-fi. Printing plates are etched from the computer files.
Most of the papers are owned by big media conglomerates. The old romance of the business is gone.
Somewhere there is an abandoned newspaper plant. It is located on a grimy street and weeds have overgrown the lot that it sits on. It's windows have all been broken out by vandals. The clacking of manual typewriters and the roar of the presses is no longer heard.
But the smell of Hypo still lingers in the air...
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12 March SNOW!!!I woke up this morning at 6:30. My wife was still sleeping so I didn't raise the blackout shades. I stumbled into my office and cranked up the computer, still with the shade in my office down. When my wife got up about a half hour later she said, "Gee, it looks like we are back in Iowa." I gave her a puzzled look and said, "Huh?" She replied, "There's snow outside!" I went to the nearest window and, sure enough there was 2 or 3 inches of new snow on the ground. We were both grinning and saying things like, "Snow! All right!" When I lived in Iowa the same occurrance would have been greeted with, "Oh God, snow again?"
A snowfall of 3 inches may not seem like much to those who get a lot more but, here in the high desert, it can be a big event. We have had less than usual precipitation this winter and, in addition to water worries, the dryness has already led to some really bad fires. Also, a good snow pack is necessary for Spring runoff to replenish the Rio Grande river.
So, these days, snowfall is really big news here. We will take any precipitation that comes our way but snow is best because, as the sun comes out, it melts slowly into the ground, watering our plants and moistening the very dry soil.
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3:32 PM
The sun is shining and the wind is blowing and just about all the snow has melted. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted. 04 March SunsetMother Nature gave us another lovely light show this evening. Shortly before sunset the sky turned very dark but, unfortunately, we didn't get our much needed rain. As the wind chased the clouds Eastward toward the mountains, the setting sun in the West lit them up. The result were the gorgeous pictures that I took and that you will find in the photos above. 03 March Buffalo DanceLast week I was talking to my dental technician about the Indian Pueblo where she was born and spent the first 20 years of her life. She told me that they would be having the Buffalo Dance all day on Sunday so my wife and I decided to go there to see it.
The Cochiti Pueblo is one of the 19 Indian Pueblos that have been in this area for centuries, some of which actually traded with the Aztecs. Most of them are within driving distance from our city.
The Pueblo is located about 60 miles from here in a beautiful area with a lot of interesting sights including Bandalier National Monument where there are ruins of ancient dwellings and Lake Cochiti. It is an area that we intend to visit several times to see everything.
The Buffalo Dance is a fascinating ritual to see. As a rule, the Pueblos don't allow pictures to be taken so we have none to be posted here. The dancers do not wear costumes, they are ritual garments and are many colors. They wear the buffalo headress, some with antlers like elk. These are religious ceremonies and I do not know the signifigance of all of what went on. I do know that I got quite caught up in the dancing, along with the sound of the big drum and the singing. It is all very spiritual.
One thing that sticks in my mind was the sight of a toddler, about 16 months or so, all dressed in yellow with a headress with feathers. Of course he was too little to dance with the others but he stood off to the side, watching and shaking his rattle and slowly learning the traditions of his people.
There were very few pale people at this event as it wasn't widely publicized. I feel that it was an honor to have been told about it by my dental person.
In time, I intend to visit more of the Peublos to learn as much as I can about these people and their traditions. 28 February Pride and PrejudiceWhen we were getting ready to move to New Mexico I read that this area was very diversified with 40 percent of the population being hispanic. It was said that everybody, black, white and brown got along in harmony and, as a whole, they do.
But, every now and then, the old prejudices rise to the surface. It turns out that some of the old hispanic families look down on newly arrived Mexicans or those who have only been here for a few generations. The other day I heard a white man talk of "poor Mexicans" in a derogartory manner. When I was in Sam's club, while talking to an older hispanic woman, I mentioned that I really like George Lopez. She said, with obvious disdain, "He's from the border."
A lot of the land in this area is owned by the 19 Indian Pueblos who have been here for many centuries. Some live in the Pueblos and work in the cities and others grew up there and moved into town. One day, while talking to one of our neighbors, I said that we were really looking forward to having our own Wal-Mart just down the street. She, a native, white New Mexican, said, "Oh, I suppose the Indians from Cuba (a small town North of here) will be going there." She said it with barely concealed disgust. I have been many times to the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center and have visited several Pueblos and intend to visit more. I have always found the Indians to be the most friendly and hospitable people, always willing to help the uninitiated to learn about their culture. Why would anyone not want to have them in the cities? After all, it was their land to begin with long before the Europeans came.
I have also heard that the Pueblo people consider themselves better than the Navajo. They will work with but not socialize with them.
I read somewhere about the "brown paper bag" test in New Orleans. If a person is darker than a paper bag they are considered to be a lower class of black people.
And on and on it goes. It seems to be one of the most disgusting traits of human nature, this desire to put other people down in order to feel superior.
Prejudice is certainly the most ignorant of concepts. We all need to have pride in our accomplishments but no one has a right to feel that they are better than others just as no one is entitled to arrogance, no matter what they have done and who they are.
DNA testing has proved that there are no races. Race is a concept invented by white scientists in the 19th century to bolster their own superiority. My DNA could possibly be the same as the black man or woman who live in the neighborhood or the Indian who lives in the Pueblos.
In fact, every kind of DNA that exists in the world can be found in Africa thereby bolstering the theory that that continent may be the birthplace of humanity.
In the end we are all just individual people who are the sum of all of our experience and deeds. It doesn't make us better for looking down on others. As I have stated before, no one is better than I and I am no better than anyone else.
It is time that we put away all the foolishness and started loving each other for who we are and not what we are.
27 February Dancing With The StarsI didn't see the finale because I messed up the setting on the DVD recorder (yes, even us techies do that now and then.) I see that Drew Lachey and Cheryl Burke won and rightly so.
I doubt if we will watch the show in its next incarnation. This one was really a mess. P. Miller should have been voted off long before he was. His dancing was the clumsiest of all. Jerry Rice certainly should have been taken off before Lisa Rinna who showed constant improvement week after week. Her movements flowed in contrast to Rice's stiffness.
The main problem with the show is the idea, taken from American Idol, of letting the public vote instead of relying on the judges. You get people voting on popularity instead of expertise.
The other thing that I found annoying was ABC's last minute decision to change the length of shows. Originally, it was supposed to be an hour and a half on Thursday and then a half hour on Friday to announce the decision of the voters. In the middle of ratings frenzy they decided to change Friday's time to an hour spending more time hashing over what happened on Thursday. Then they decided to add a half hour last Thursday. I record almost everything I watch so that I can decide whether or not to watch the commercials, some of which are so inane they make me nauseous. I can imagine that others were as frustrated as I with these last minute changes.
The best thing to come out of this go-around was the chance to see Cheryl Burke. Having her as a trainer must have been a distinct advantage for Drew Lachey over the other contestants. Her talent is amazing. Her dancing is a delight to watch and reminded me of Gwen Verdon in her prime. Unfortunately we probably won't see her outside of shows like this. There are no variety shows and very few movie musicals to showcase her talent. If Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly, Ray Bolger, Ginger Rogers or Cyd Charisse were starting out now they would have nowhere to go except Broadway and would never have achieved the fame that was theirs back in the day.
We watch very little reality TV and this is one that we will probably forego next time. It has become obvious that networks will do anything to manipulate the outcome of these types of shows.
22 February On FilmFelicity Hoffman, in addition to being one of the main stars on Desperate Housewives, has won the Golden Globe award for Best Actress for her independent film Transamerica. It is well deserved as she is one of our best, though somewhat unsung, actors.
A lot of really good films are coming from places other than the big Hollywood studios. Independent films are popping up everywhere, usually with little promotion. Many of them are far better than the big budget films.
One good thing about a Netflix subscription is that, because of our ratings that we assign to movies that we have seen, their computer often points out other pictures that we might have missed. One such was The Station Agent, the story of a little man who just wanted to hide away from a cruel world but instead, found companionship with other damaged people. It stars Peter Dinklage, a small man with an enormous talent.
Another film that might have gone unnoticed is Ladies in Lavender, starring Judi Dench and Maggie Smith. It is a quiet film but has some of the finest acting ever to be seen in movies.
After decades of Disney animation, many of us are discovering the wonderful films of Hayao Miyazaki. We started by buying and watching Spirited Away and were so impressed with the story and the beautiful artwork that we soon added many of his others to our collection.
And then there are the films of Gurinder Chada, bringing the music and color of Bollywood to western audiences. Bend it Like Beckham is a wonderful movie and Bride and Prejudice was so much fun to watch that we had to buy a copy for our musical collection.
How about the beautiful films coming from China such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Hero, and House of Flying Daggers. They combine martial arts action with complex drama and scenes of the gorgeous Chinese countryside.
I could go on at length about movies that we have seen that do not come from the Hollywood movie mill. So many of them are so much better than the garbage that is being shown in our theaters. Many of those don't last long and hardly justify the huge amounts of money being spent to make them.
Watch out Hollywood, the world is gaining on you. 20 February Book ReviewI just finished reading The Smile of a Ghost by Phil Rickman, the seventh book in the Merrily Watkins mystery series. These stories take place in an area that most Americans know very little about, the Welsh Border Country. Like Stephen King's New England, it is a place of much history and old ghosts where the unexplainable is an almost normal occurence.
Rickman populates his books with a cast of characters headed by the Reverend Merrily Watkins, Vicar of Lewardine and a Diocesan Exorcist. She is a woman working in a male dominated field with all of its attendant problems. Like most of us, she is not always sure of herself but, by trying to do the best she can, she usually manages to persevere.
She has a 17 year old daughter, Jane, a young woman on the verge of adulthood. Any of us who have raised teenage daughters know what that is like. Jane is a great character, full of attitude and a desire to help her Mother that often goes awry.
The other main continuing character is Lol Robinson, a musician with a tortured past who, in this novel, is finally starting to slay his personal demons. He is also Merrily's lover, a tricky situation in the small town of Ledwardine.
In this book, Merrily is called upon to investigate a series of apparent suicides in the charming ancient town of Ludlow. It involves a former music star who is obsessed with death and a newly retired detective who feels that he has lost the career that defines him. It is a complex plot with some unexpected twists that you won't anticipate.
Rickman's prose is rich with humor and well researched historical fact. He writes dialogue in a way that lets you hear the accents of the region. His characters are like old friends to those of us who have read all the novels, beginning with The Wine of Angels.
In my opinion, Rickman is one of the finest authors writing in the English language. His novels are like finely crafted pieces of furniture with all the well polished parts fitting perfectly.
In 1996 December was published by Berkely Horror and it did very well. It is a very good book, much more than just a horror novel. Since then American companies have refused to publish his subsequent work. I think the concept is: If it is not made here Americans won't like it. Fortunately, his popularity has grown and British editions of his books are readily available from Amazon.com and other online sellers even though brick and mortar bookstores refuse to market them. Also, I have found that most libraries around the country have them on the shelves.
If you like mysteries tinged with the supernatural, these are the best. I envy those of you who have not read them yet because you have a wonderful series to look forward to.
17 February HeroesSomeone, I think it was Kahlil Gibran, once said, "If you have a hero, think again. You have somehow diminished yourself." This makes perfect sense to me. If you have a hero, you are telling yourself that person is better than you.
I just don't think that is valid. I don't feel like anyone is better than me. I may respect their talent or accomplishments but there are things that I might be able to do that someone else can't. At the same time I don't think that I am better than anyone else because of those things.
But I do love superheroes. I was born the year before Superman first hit the newstands as a feature in Action Comics. Batman came a short time later and became my all time favorite.
I think most of us fantasize about having superpowers. We would like to be as fast as The Flash, fly like a bird the way Superman can, and hang out on rooftops wearing a bat costume, scaring the snot out of bad guys.
Then there is The Hulk. Someone wrote that it would be great to be Bruce Banner when driving in traffic. If someone made you angry, you could change into this big muscle bound green guy and rip his doors off.
Young girls dream of having Wonder Woman's powers and boys dream of having a girlfriend that looks like her. Something for everybody.
There have always been superheroes in most cultures. When I was in High School we were required to read Beowulf. I despised it, struggling through the old english but, one day, I came to realize that it was the same old superhero formula. Monster terrorizes people and they call on the one guy who can kick his rear end all over the place.
Probably the first superhero was drawn on the wall of a cave. It is the kind of mythology that seems to be universal. 14 February RamblingYeah, I know I have really neglected this blog lately. Well, I finished doing my taxes on Turbotax, don't ask...my Chinese friends have gone back to University so I am not getting many emails. I am beginning to understand what people feel like when their kids leave home. Empty 'net syndrome? (Sorry, I couldn't resist that one.) I don't have any important subject to put on here so I am just going to ramble.
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I was a rotating shift worker for most of my 20 years in the Air Force. I had always thought that I was a night person until I got a regular day job in civilian life. What a shock! I had spent all those years mangling my circadian cycle and suddenly I felt really good. It was like being half drunk for a long time and suddenly sobering up. It turns out that the night time ain't the right time for me at all.
There were some interesting experiences, though. That odd feeling at about 3 or 4 in the morning when my body temperature would drop. My stomach would complain and, at one place that I was stationed, the only thing that would appease it would be a can of Gebhardt's chili from the vending machine. I swear that stuff had a one inch layer of grease on the top of it when I opened the can but, after it was stirred up, it was just what my body wanted.
After I got out I worked DOT teletype for a while on the midnight shift. It is really strange to go to work at night and then come out in morning sunlight. Everything would look very sharp and clear like being on some sort of drug.
Years after I got a day job, whenever it was time to go to bed, I would be so thankful that I didn't have to go to work while everyone else in my family were sleeping. Now I seldom sleep past 7 in the morning. If I do I feel like the day is half gone. See, diurnal person. Who knew?
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As I write this I can hear a dog barking in the distance. It seems that everyone in this neighborhood has dogs, all kinds of them. Big ones, small ones, really big ones. I used to walk in the morning before I got my Gazelle. All the dogs would bark at me as I went by. They were all behind fences so I wasn't afraid of them. In one yard, there were two boxers that would climb up on their deck to bark at me, tails wagging. I would always wave at them and say, "Morning, big dogs." One morning, on my way back, one of them had an old tennis shoe in his mouth, obviously his toy. Instead of dropping the shoe he attempted to bark with it in his mouth. Came out something like, "MMMMF, MMMMF, MMMMF" very loud.
I laughed all the way home. After a few weeks I guess they got used to me because they didn't bark any more. Somehow, it just wasn't the same.
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What do we talk about when there is nothing else to say? The weather, of course. The problem is, here in New Mexico, the weather has a certain sameness. At this time of the year, temperatures are in the 50's and 60's, occasionally dropping down to the 40's. Of course, lots of blue skies and sunshine. It might be considered monotonous except that I see that the forecast in Iowa, where I used to live, is calling for freezing rain and snow. I'll take monotony, thank you very much.
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OK, that's enough of this kind of meandering narrative for tonight. I'll try to come up with something better in days to come.
08 February FootlooseWell, it looks like I have been neglecting my blog. What with having to drive my wife to physical therapy, grocery shopping, Master Gardener class and other places, the days have been rocketing by.
Today while she was in therapy, I went to the Chamber of Commerce and Visitors Center to buy two tickets to a concert by the Count Basie band at the local high school. As I was leaving, I happened to spot one of those racks where they have all the tourism brochures. I picked up the latest New Mexico Tourism guide. Then I noticed pamphlets from individual places in the state. As I looked at all the names that are so familiar to we who are interested in the Old West my right foot started to itch. You know, the foot that operates the accelator.
Socorro, Taos, Silver City, Red River, Ruidoso, Santa Fe and other small places drenched in the history of the Southwest. Soon, my wife will be all done with her therapy and the weather is already warming.
Come with us as we travel the trails with the ghosts of the past. There will be pictures and, I'm sure, lots of stories. 02 February It's About TimeAs I have previously stated, I really like the company of women. Women are much more interesting to talk to than most men. They are willing to discuss more issues than who is going to win the next football game and they have a well honed sense of humor. These days, they no longer are afraid to display their intelligence for fear of intimidating men. If guys have a problem with that, too bad.
I have never understood the attraction of going hunting or fishing with the boys, hanging out in the woods, being able to let go and relax without having to worry about women being around. My answer to that is, "Go ahead. Knock yourselves out. I'll stay here and hang around the women." The Air Force gave me enough life without women at the radar sites that I was assigned to.
I recently read that boys are not doing as well in school as girls. The reason given is that courses and reading material are geared more to girls. Still, I wonder if it is not the fact that boys are raised with the feeling that they are the masters of the world and that they don't really have to work that hard to be in control. Are they the victims of thousands of years of conditioning?
Perhaps attitudes are beginning to change. The hit TV show, Commander in Chief shows a woman in the highest position in the land and doing a great job at it. I think it is about time that a woman ran for President. I think that our country might be a very different place if a woman was in charge.
Some men would say that a woman can't handle the pressures of running the country. Are they then disrespecting the person who ran their homes so successfully? My father was an alcoholic and my mother kept it together for us. Even though he often gave her less money for running the house because he spent it on liquor, we never went without meals or proper clothing.
This is not a partisan diatribe. There are more women in politics than ever before and I am sure many of them in both parties would possess the qualifications to run for our highest office.
Men certainly haven't done that well in recent years. Isn't it about time that women have had a chance to show what they can do?
Isn't it way past time? 30 January The BlogsA lot of people have been saying that they are too many of us having our own blogs and writing whatever comes into our heads. They say that we should just go away. Come to think of it, that is what they say about senior citizens.
Anyway, obviously, I disagree. When people write stories from their everyday lives I think they find that their existence is not as mudane as they might believe. Many bloggers have some interesting things to say, like Jane whose rapid fire commentary about her life never fails to make me smile and even laugh out loud. Or Jenni whose wonderful Labrador Retriever makes up his own games.
I even have young students from China who read my blog and leave their comments. They are very intelligent and have a huge desire to learn about our country.
Our leaders are well insulated from the general public. They have people that do surveys and polls and reduce the populace to a bunch of numbers. They don't like press conferences and town meetings because they fear the unknown.
We have often been told that communication leads to understanding but our politicians and captains of industry really don't want to know us.
But we bloggers know each other, don't we? 24 January EthicsI see that one blogger has changed her name because another has been stalked.
Much is being said about employers using what is written on these blogs to punish or even refuse to hire employees. Being as we put things on here for all the world to see it is perfectly legal for management to use it but it certainly is unethical.
Using blog material to stalk someone is perverted and abhorrent. When management uses it to refuse a promotion or pay raise or even to fire the employee is it any less abhorrent?
These blogs exist as a means of expression, a place to air our opinions. Do we now have to hide in anonymity because of the unethical behavior of our employers?
I am retired and a senior citizen so I can pretty much say what I want. They can't take my retirement income away so the worst that could happen is maybe I will be stalked by a little old lady from Socorro. 20 January The BeastA little over a week ago, my wife had to go to the hospital for knee surgery. It was done arthroscopically so there were only three tiny punctures and we were told that there would be about a four week recovery period.
The instructions that we were given told us that she would immediately be able to put weight on that leg and that she should be off her crutches in two to three days.
Of course, on the first day, she was pretty well out of it, sleeping a lot mostly because of the anasthesia. By Sunday she was down to one crutch and I told her that she should try to get around on Monday using just a cane. By Wednesday she even got rid of that.
But here is the problem - everywhere we go, she is telling people that her husband took her crutches away and that is why she is walking with a limp.
She had to go in to the medical center for a blood test on Wednesday. We went to the waiting room and when she was called she walked toward the Technician and was asked why she was limping. In a very loud voice she said, "MY HUSBAND TOOK MY CRUTCHES AWAY!"
I sat there, shrinking into my chair, trying to ignore the glares of the other patients who were probably thinking that I was a terrible beast for taking the crutches from my poor, disabled wife.
She thinks this is very funny. 17 January The HatA friend of mine from my old home in Iowa said that my picture looks like a grizzled old cowboy. Lest anyone think that I moved to New Mexico and jumped into the whole cowboy thing I want to make it clear that I have been wearing this gear for years.
I bought my first pair of cowboy boots many years ago when I was stationed in South Dakota and have always liked them. I have worn hats for years and I have a good collection of them. The hat in the picture is an Akubra from an Australian family owned company that is over 100 years old. Akubra means "head covering" in one of Australia's many aboriginal languages. Hats are important here where the sun shines so strongly. If you are going to spend much time outdoors you need something with a wide brim for protection.
My other clothing is conventional stuff but I do like to wear the hats and boots in honor of our very important Western history. New Mexico is steeped in that history. On our trip to Carlsbad we went from Socorro to Roswell on highway 380. At one point we passed a sign that said "Lincoln County." I immediately thought of the Lincoln Country wars and Billy the Kid.
Cowboys started here and not in Texas as some think. Europeans traditionally herded their livestock using dogs where the Mexican Vaqueros used the horses that were brought to them by the Spanish conquistadors. The Mexicans brought the practice North to New Mexico and from here it spread throughout the Southwest and beyond.
Actually, the work "buckaroo" is a cowboy expression that comes from
vaquero.
Well, that is the history lesson for today, kids. Now you know why I like to wear hats and boots. Oh, and the occasional bola tie or silver and turqouise pendant and, now and then, a fancy belt buckle. Besides, it is impossible to wear this stuff without getting a little swagger in your step. |
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