LIfe Lessons - Part 3

There is so much to learn from Kelly. I can add another word to my list of necessary all-inclusive adjectives: "random."

The day started a bit too early for the two weary sleepyheads. Heavy rain in and around Dallas made the morning seem tedious. By lunchtime, the skies cleared and we made our way up the long, lonely, 300-mile road from Dallas to Amarillo. It was a day of cowboys, oil wells, big sky, juicy bugs smeared across the windshield, country music, and miles and miles of nothing. As Kelly said at one point, "...and I thought I lived in the middle of nowhere..."






The landscape changes so dramatically just before the New Mexico border on I-40. Kelly was bug-eyed when she caught her first glimpse of the real West. We escaped the interstate and followed old Rt. 66 all the way to Tucumcari.



The ghostly images atop the Llano Estacado are windmills.


Time to hit the hay and put this computer to bed as well. The wireless connection at the Blue Swallow Motel has one fatal flaw: the signal can only be picked up from a picnic table next to the office. The bugs this evening were enough to keep me from my email, and at this late hour I sit in the car typing in the dark, waiting for my laptop to shift and sound the horn.

The owner of this ancient roadside motel assured me doors needn't be locked and our safety is assured in this friendly little town in the middle of nowhere. It's good to be back in New Mexico, even though I miss the palm trees, salt air, and snowy egrets flying overhead.

Roadside Oddities

Food for thought:

Only in America would Scooter Libby's sentence be commuted, but Texas vending machines are sent to prison.

Life Lessons - Part 2

The descriptive adjectives "nice," "awesome," "sweet," and "cool" cover just about any situation. I am learning that one's gray matter can be needlessly cluttered with an excessive amount of adjectives. Disciplining oneself to use only these four adjectives frees the mind for loftier pursuits, like calculating how much fancy granola one can eat on a road trip before feeling ill, or solving the crisis of world hunger.

We drove through four states today and made it all the way to Tyler, TX. This blogger accidentally left her beloved goosedown bed pillows in the hotel in Mobile and realized it 100 miles later. Fortunately the hotel staff retrieved the pillows and promptly shipped them to Albuquerque. The rest of the day, however, was defined by my relentless search for a replacement pillow. It wasn't until we reached Tyler and I made a dinner run to Olive Garden for take-out that I discovered the large Bed Bath & Beyond that had just the pillow I needed.

Our drive through Mississippi this morning was relaxing. We stopped at a place called "Shoes Shoes Shoes" that advertised "Clean Rest Rooms" (they were), so it seemed like a good opportunity to shop for footwear.




We passed many locals selling their melons at the side of the road. The most interesting point-of-sale rig was this customized school bus painted in bright John Deere colors. Most others were selling from the beds of rusty pickups.


I couldn't pass up this photo op.


In Vickburg, MS, we stopped to view the Mississippi River and Louisiana on the opposite bank.



Kelly checked out a cannon in this historic Southern town, whose centerpiece is a National Military Park commemorating the 1863 siege and fall of Vicksburg.


The 47-day "Siege of Vicksburg" was a significant Civil War event in which the Union gained control of the entire Mississippi River. The capture of Vicksburg and the simultaneous defeat of Lee at Gettysburg marked the turning point in the Civil War.

It was raining when we arrived in Shreveport late this afternoon, crossed the Red River, and landed in Tyler an hour later. Kelly has already made new friends and been invited to a party in the hotel later this evening. (She declined, of course...) I, on the other hand, am quite content to sit in our modest room and read the phone book.

Tomorrow: The Texas Plains and New Mexico!

Life Lessons - Part 1

Kelly and I are driving back to Albuquerque together. A Florida resident, she's hitching a ride to New Mexico and will fly back after exploring the desert. Unaccustomed as I am to sharing close quarters with a teenager, I am learning a geat deal from her.

1. Grape is the finest of all artificial flavors.
2. Sour Skittles are not all that sour.
3. It's easier to be happy than sad.
4. Life is one big photo op.
5. Unicycling helps expand one's social circle.
6. Snacking could be a competitive sport.
7. Wearing one's hat to bed calms brain waves.
8. Given a choice, even farm girls like to sleep in.
9. The more pillows, the better.
10. Bowling For Soup is a band.

Traveling with Kelly may prove to be very educational, but I'm not sure how I feel about Bowling For Soup.

Tomorrow's agenda includes Alabama, Mississipi, Louisiana and Texas. Seems like a tall order at the moment. I hope to have photos for my next post.

The Sunshine State

Day Three

It's a short 50-mile hop from Mobile to Pensacola Bay. The sight of all that turquoise water reminded me that my dolphin spirit hungers for the sea. The third and last day of my journey blasted a horizontal path across the Florida Panhandle and then carved a straight shot south on I-75 from Lake City to Port Charlotte. 75 was even faster than I'd remembered, and trying to keep up with 90 mph traffic took my breath away. I arrived an hour and a half early due to unavoidable high-speed travel. Driving the speed limit would have been more dangerous than keeping up with traffic. It was only when traffic slowed to 80 just south of Tampa that I loosened my white-knuckle grip.

For the past five days I've been visiting with the parents, force-feeding myself large meals mid-afternoon, and spending inordinate amounts of time sleeping. This morning I went for a long walk on Venice's Caspersen Beach, one of the most beautiful beaches in the U.S.





"The Shark Tooth Capital of the World," Venice is one of the few West Coast Florida cities without a barrier island. Millions of prehistoric shark teeth wash up on the beaches of Venice annually. Sharks of all species continually shed their teeth and grow new ones. They have 40 or more teeth in each jaw. Behind the functional rows of teeth are seven other rows of teeth developing into mature dentures to replace teeth as they are shed or lost. In ten years, an average Tiger shark can produce as many as 24,000 teeth. The fossilized Miocene Epoch shark teeth found on Venice beaches are between 5 and 25 million years old. I find it staggering to think that the little teeth I've found in the sand might be as much as 25 million years old. They don't look a day over 15 million.

I scored an impressive shark's tooth - Mako, I think - in Papa's Bait Shop on the Venice Pier. It would have been more fun to find it free-diving in the Gulf, but it will still make a nice addition to my shark tooth collection, and I can wear this one.

Blew Bayou

Day Two

With the long stretch of Texas high plains behind me, I headed east toward Louisiana and the Deep South (the scary states), tired but hopeful to make Mobile by nightfall. At the Louisiana Welcome Center, I stopped for an hour to dig through the cooler for hard boiled eggs, cinnamon mini-muffins, grapes, and a smoothie. After this tasty picnic repast, I grabbed some zzzzz's in the parking lot, and in a short while was once again cruising down the highway.


Crossing the Mississippi at Vicksburg, MS, the possibility of making Mobile by dark seemed quite doable.


There's something a little creepy about driving through the southern states, especially Louisiana. You just never know what will crawl out of those bayous. I guess I watched too many swamp thing movies in the 50's. Mississippi isn't much better, only in the Magnolia State it isn't reptilian creatures, but state troopers, that scare the bejeezus out of me.

I pulled into Mobile at 6:30, bought a basket of juicy peaches at a roadside stand, rented a deluxe room with jacuzzi, and spent the evening hopping between spa and bed. Thoughts of palm trees and not having to drive anywhere for at least a week lulled me into a deep sleep.

Cowboy Blues

Day One - Continued

The 300 mile drive across the high plains from Amarillo to Dallas took me through small, run-down Texas towns. Endless flat vistas punctuated only by the occasional grain silo made the drive seem much longer. Signs of civilization were absent for much of the ride. In Childress I found a Wal-Mart and stopped for some picnic necessities. It was the only big box store I found for several hundred miles. This in itself makes U.S. 287 a national treasure.



The sun went down before I got to Dallas, home to the World's Worst Drivers.


After 715 miles and a grueling passage through Dallas, I found a room in Terrell, east of the city, at a less-than-desirable Day's Inn. The pickings were slim: this was the third place I'd stopped at and I was prepared to sleep in the car if necessary. Room 162 possessed an unpleasant, palpable aura of humanity sheltered within its walls over the years, and I was happy to have brought slippers so my feet would not have to touch the grimy carpet. I slept only 3 hours, skipped the unremarkable "breakfast" served in a corner of the dingy lobby, and escaped early in the morning bound for Mobile and, with luck, better accommodations.

Signs of Life

Emerging from an intense work binge that has consumed my life for two months, I look around and wonder where I am. Physically I'm in Florida, after a three-day, marathon 1900 mile drive from Albuquerque to Port Charlotte. But the last few days my head has been in the Twilight Zone. This is largely due to lack of sleep and 80 hour work weeks since late April. "Ungrounded" doesn't begin to describe the depletion I'm experiencing.

Day One

It was fun traveling without human and canine companionship--just me and my CDs on the open road. The first day was probably the most interesting. I enjoyed the drive from New Mexico to Texas on I-40, eventually saying goodbye to tumbleweed and mesas that yielded to cattle ranches and grain silos.

East of Tucumcari I stopped to grab a smoothie out of the cooler and caught a glimpse of the Llano Estacado. Part of the High Plains, the Llano Estacado, or "palisaded plains," straddles New Mexico and Texas along the border. This large mesa occupies 37,500 square miles. As I haven't yet perfected the art of levitation, this aerial photo isn't mine, but it's probably better than anything I could have shot from the ground.


I noticed something odd in the distance as I approached Amarillo.


This strange site was just too compelling to ignore. At the next exit I doubled back to check out Cadillac Ranch, a unique work of art that sits on the sprawling ranch belonging to eccentric Stanley Marsh, 3. (He uses "3" because he feels "III" is "too pretentious.") Ten Cadillacs buried in the earth and heavily layered with graffiti decorate the horizon. Children and adults armed with spray paint and Magic Markers were gathered around these rusty relics to leave their marks. Discarded cans littered the ground and the air was heavy with paint fumes.




After a quick examination of the colorful display, I hurried back to the car to see what else Texas had in store for me. I didn't have to travel far.



But the strangest sight of all was the herd of camels grazing in lush grassland outside of Wichita Falls. That's right, dozens of camels staring at passing cars. Dromedaries. One hump.

To be continued...

Warning: Do Not Take Hallucinogens Before Watching

Lately, I feel a bit like the woman in this video, reshaping myself every few seconds to suit the needs of my clients, all of them having immediate, pressing needs. Like that old 60's song says, "Bend me, shape me, anyway you want me." Work has been impossible lately. I love my work, but after 15 or 16 consecutive hours of sitting at the computer, I'm ready for a break. I haven't taken a real weekend in a month. Meals have been missed, phone calls ignored, and friends forgotten. My entire universe has revolved around a 19 inch computer monitor these past few weeks. I'm ready for a vacation.

Ironically, it's that very ability to meet my clients' needs quickly that has opened many doors and helped me land new business, so I'm reluctant to change my ways in any significant fashion. Admittedly, though, some days are rough. Some tell me I'm not good with boundaries and don't know how to say "no." Others applaud my efforts to meet deadlines and commitments. I suspect there's a middle ground someplace in this vortex where I can be kind to myself and helpful to clients. In the present moment, however, that place eludes me. This shapeshifter is bone tired.

Enjoy the video. You will be hearing more from me in the coming days, when I hit the road, alone, for a very long drive to Florida to visit loved ones and stock up on raw orange blossom honey to bring back to New Mexico.

Friday's Widget

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Happy June, everyone! Thought for today: Live every day as if it's your last, because one day it will be.

A Song For Russ

Here's a little blast from the past...

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Another Day

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Last night's blog whine about my inability to sleep actually helped me settle into six hours of slumber. While it wasn't the best night's sleep I'd ever enjoyed, it seemed a more substantial chunk of rest than I'd expected. Everything's relative.

Murphy and Telly have been playing in the dirt for the past two mornings, appearing at the back door covered with thick dark mud. A few weeks ago I found a five foot wading pool for Murphy at the politically incorrect Wal-Mart. I relaxed my boycott long enough to purchase the pool, squeeze it into the back of the van, and rush home to fill it for my big guy. Murphy loves his pool, but I'm learning that it needs to be emptied nightly. Otherwise, he splashes in the water early in the morning, rolls in the dirt, and then wrestles with Telly. The result? Two dogs caked with dry, hard mud. Murphy is easy to hose off, but Telly thinks water comes from the ninth circle of Hell. Removing mud from Telly--a wiggler and perpetual motion machine--is a job for only the fearless.

The back yard resembles a mine field these days. Telly is a digger. Yesterday Murphy chewed a hole in the water line running from the backyard spigot to the rooftop swamp cooler. Caught up in other distractions, I didn't realize water was spraying all over the backyard. Telly made an effort to remedy the situation by digging up the yard so the water could collect in a large hole rather than flood the back yard. By the time I went outside to check on them, Her Majesty was proudly lying in a deep muddy hole, covered from head to paw, panting and smiling. It took half an hour to clean the dogs and dry them off.

This morning was a repeat of yesterday. Life is too short to spend all this time hosing off the dogs. Did I mention the pointy seed pods that embed themselves in the dogs' fur? We've so much wild growth in the back, it will take a chain saw to weed the yard. Rototilling may be our only remaining option. My fantasy of desert living didn't include weeds that grow two inches a day.

Last August, Mayor Chavez declared a "War On Weeds." The City of Albuquerque's weed gestapo regularly hands out citations for weeds exceeding four inches in height. Worse yet, the city's website provides a form encouraging citizens to file complaints and turn in recalcitrant neighbors who refuse to weed. Evidently "weeds" and "litter" are synonymous in Duke City. Personally, I find them noxious, especially goatheads. Last week, Joseph Crumb, a regular columnist for the Albuquerque Tribune, penned the following lines:

There are three things friends and relatives never mention when they talk about what a wonderful place New Mexico is to live: the wind, the ants and the goatheads. Consider the goathead: Few weeds can rival its perniciousness. Some goathead seeds, aka "stickies," have spines measuring a half centimeter or more, powerful enough to puncture bicycle tires. (link added)

Murphy and Telly present their paws daily for goathead removal. I know what it feels like. I've removed the barbed thorns from my own feet as well.

It's time to face another night. Everyone else in the house is sleeping soundly while I sit alone on the sofa--wakeful, restless, pensive.

Another day. Just breathe...

I'm So Tired

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Sleep eludes me these days. Most nights I'm lucky to get three or four hours. The dogs, on the other hand, sleep about 18 hours a day. I generally don't disturb their rest, even though they rarely return the favor. After 20 years of sleeping only a few hours a night, I'm beginning to accept it as "normal."

My materal grandmother slept only a few hours a night. She often listened to New York talk radio in the wee hours, and then called relatives way before dawn to let them know what they were missing. I was just a teenager at the time. Thankfully there was no phone in my bedroom.

They say that most Americans are sleep deprived. One wonders if the high rate of insomnia is directly proportional to the popularity of Starbucks and other "high energy" beverages. I, for one, do not drink coffee. Caffeine renders me completely ungrounded, so much so that I'm apt to levitate after only one cup.

Other than feeling ragged and dopey most of the time, the worst part of chronic insomnia is not having anyone to call in the middle of the night when I'm wide awake, except friends eight time zones to the East, and that's a pretty expensive call even at 3AM. It's lonely being the only one awake in the night. Even the dogs are reluctant to join me in my early morning peregrinations. Grandma never let that stop her from reaching out by land line to disrupt a loved one's rapid eye movements.

Will I sleep tonight? Is tonight the night I finally get some deep, restorative rest? The prospect of breaking the sleepless cycle fills me with anticipation. I feel like a pre-teen on the first day of school. Or will tonight be like all other nights of counting sheep and listening to Murphy snore next to me? Over the years I've tried just about everything, including acupuncture, acupressure, visualizations, reading, not reading, journaling, singing, laughing, watching TV, not watching TV, homeopathics, sleeping pills, massage, meditation, new pillows, valerian root, hops, catnip, kava kava, skullcap, lemon balm, passion flower, warm baths, hot milk, cold beer, turkey sandwiches, brandy, new mattresses, warm fuzzy movies, magnets, a glass of wine, aromatherapy, psychotherapy, melatonin, tryptophane, stuffed animals, vigorous exercise, yoga, prayer and positive thinking. Maybe I just love life too much to waste all that time sleeping. The fact is, I just don't want to miss anything. I need to be awake to hear those things that go bump in the night.

My eyelids are heavy. It must be time to extinguish the light and give it another shot. Am I the only insomniac? Your turn.

Sheila Takes A Vacation

A few days ago, my best buddy from college flew to Albuquerque from Newark (and boy, were her arms tired), to spend a few days with her old pal from Long Island. We spent three days traipsing around New Mexico. First and foremost, Sheila was in awe of Albuquerque's five volcanoes located on the West Mesa, and hoped they wouldn't spontaneously erupt in honor of her first visit to New Mexico. I assured her the possibility was remote.


I was delighted to show Sheila the Petroglyphs on Friday, after a brief tour of the West Mesa. It was a beautiful day and the sky was a brilliant blue. Sheila opted for the less strenuous trail, using inappropriate footwear as an excuse to take the easy path. Next time she visits I will have a new pair of Nike cross-trainers waiting for her arrival. She insists she doesn't "hike," but I reminded her that "hiking" is actually "walking."





Friday morning we spent some time in the Rio Grande Nature Center, where we saw several roadrunners, hummingbirds, turtles, geese, a grebe, and widgeons. It was National River Clean-up Day, and the Rio Grande was full of inflatable boats occupied by happy volunteers cheerfully bagging debris. It looked like a good time, and for a good cause.


Later that day, after a restorative nap (one of many), we wandered around Albuquerque's Old Town, stopping for a bite to eat at a charming outdoor bistro in the shadow of chile ristras decorating a balcony overhead.




Today we drove to Santa Fe and enjoyed brunch at the Tesuque Village Market. With our bellies full, and in spite of threatening skies, we took off to explore the hills of Tesuque.





By early afternoon we were checking out the sights, sounds and smells of the Plaza in Santa Fe.





Our meanderings took us to Canyon Road, not far from the Plaza and home to many fine art galleries. Santa Fe is the second largest art market in the United States.






No Southwest vacation would be complete without a Margarita. (Photo enhanced to protect the guilty.)

Tomorrow my friend returns to New Jersey. And just when we were starting to have some fun...