Travels and Travails With Triads

Happy New Year, Everyone.

We just got back from New Mexico late last night, the 31st.  It was a trip.  A good trip.

Snow has a way of changing everything, doesn't it?  Snow days at school.  Always a highlight of the year.  Not only did we get to take the day off, but they just generally threw a wrench into everything...all bets were off for the day.  Everything looked different.  Each ordinary act required undeveloped technique, different balance, more time, more patience--some coordination for those of us lacking much of it.  A total disruption of the routine.

Welcome to our trip.  New Mexico had had its share of snow the previous week.  It had closed the airport and messed things up pretty good--which almost any amount of snowfall in Albuquerque will do, because ABQ doesn't get that much snow, despite its altitude.  And what it gets is often pretty dry--or becomes that way as the desert sucks the moisture out of it.  This week was different.

We arrived in NM on the day after Christmas.  The talking rent-a-car shuttle bus told us it was 52 degrees in Albuquerque (though it felt like 51).  By 3 p.m. we had a car, but we ran out of time to see the luminarias on the Plaza in Albuquerque.  Next year.  Traveled north to The Inn of the Turquoise Bear in Santa Fe for two days--our favorite B&B on the planet.  Had a great dinner on the 27th at Los Mayas just beyond the SF Plaza.  Los Mayas is a cool/funky  place--the main part of the restaurant is outside on a covered brick-and-cement patio with outdoor heaters--those big ones that stand tall above you.  The food was great (and not overexpensive for SF), the music was, too; the staff was friendly despite being crazily overbusy, and the tables were close.  It was the one time in Santa Fe when things felt "for real."  A lot of people like SF--the history, the beautiful landscape (beyond the town itself), the food--oh yeah, and the vast, potentially all-encompassing shop-til-you-die consumer/tourist culture.  I was ready to leave.  I'm sure I won't be missed...or noticed much at all, which is fine. 

Santa Fe does have a good new radio station to check out, though.  It's Indie 101.5 FM (which sounds like an unfortunate "Clear Channel-ish" sort of name, but they're not) an independently owned and operated station.  They play what they want--a lot of stuff I love but never hear anywhere else (since the Powers-That-Be owning most of the media don't make any money by providing access to interesting music/art/thought/news/etc...but that's another story altogether, or is it?).  We used to listen to KBAC ("Radio Free Santa Fe") when we lived in Albuquerque, but I'm elated with what this station offers--even though the signal didn't make it south to San Felipe.  Here's hoping they can make a go of it, remain eclectic, and find success.  Hearing Robyn Hitchcock's new music on the radio--without having to pay satellite prices for it--gave me shivers.

On the 28th it was off to the 'Kirk.  Hit RB Winning (best coffee in the city), then Cindy talked me into going to the Alibi to give them a Partly Dave CD (I'll be curious to see if anything comes of that).  They were nice about taking it, since I didn't solicit it in the "normal" way (being 1800 miles from home), and said they'd listen to it.  Thanks to Mark Staben for updating the web site, by the way.  Sorry for bugging you at work.

We made it to the Plaza before the storm (hence your shirt, Paul) and nothing was normal after that.  Living in Albuquerque was like that for me.  Everything seemed to be happening for the first time--to lots of us.  It was like that often.  Those of you who know me know that it wasn't the easiest time in my life, but I'm grateful for it.  And I've come to adore Albuquerque because of it.  When we were getting ready to leave, Cindy said, "Nothing about this trip was what we expected it to be.  Totally new reference points.  It's been like starting completely over again."  (I think she means in the best sense.)  I have to agree.  For me it was more akin to turning the snow globe upside-down and shaking it really hard.  In the best sense, I mean.

Got sick on the night of the 28th, which was a bummer.  Felt much better the following morning.  By that time, the snow had started for real, so we did what all great travelers do during weird weather.  We went to Flying Star and had pancakes.  Then we went up to the Tramway walking trail and lumbered around in the snow.  Finally, it was off to Mladen and Danielle's, Nick and Maya's for dinner.  (Thanks, you guys, by the way.  We had a great time.  You are always welcome when you come out our way.  And I haven't forgotten what you said.)  By the time we got back to the motel, Albuquerque had recorded 11.3" of snow, an all-time record one-day total.  The news-heads mantra-ed, "Nothing like this has ever happened before."  (Except for the last time something like this happened, which was just a different "something.")

It snowed the entire next day, too.  The total for the storm was 16.3", another record.  After shoveling snow in the motel parking lot (not too many people in ABQ get to do that), we did go out and drive/walk around in it.  Not too bad, though the secondary streets were treacherous.  Then the temp dropped.  We thought about trying to make it back out for dinner, but as we pulled in (and got stuck) the motel manager came up and told us he'd arranged to have pizzas delivered so people wouldn't have to drive in the ice.  More shoveling--so we could make a trip to the store for a bottle of wine--and a pizza.  That's what we did on our last night in town while we took photos of the sunset off our balcony.  Nothing like this has ever happened before.

Southwest had cancelled all of its flights on the 30th.  By the 31st, though, everything at the Sunport (right, that's the name of the airport) was running.  Though it was a little like a field trip to an ant farm, we navigated the incorrect queues we seemed magnetically attracted to.  Made it to our flight, boarded, buckled up, pulled out a book...and were told the flight had been delayed by fog.  (I'm not sure that was true.  We seemed to be waiting for a passenger stuck in the ant farm.  Somehow, someone turned the ant farm upside-down and shook it really hard--in the best sense--and she made it to the plane.)  Thirty minutes on, and we took off.  Pulling above a ribbon of fog, the Sandias really looked like sandias--which is why they're called "Sandias"; the Mesa, wedding cake frosting, from the plane.

When we got home, we looked pretty good to the cats, despite all the shredded toilet paper they prepared in our honor.  It was a trip.  It was a good trip.  Here's hoping 2007 is a good trip for you all.