I’m working on the This Old House issue of my regional arts magazine, and in the process of writing a story on penitentiary tiles, I began to think about my adopted home town, Las Vegas, New Mexico.… ——- My hometown in New England held a node on the Revolutionary road. Most of the townspeople — …
Category Archives: New Mexico
36 Days Past Solstice
I shifted from fourth gear to third as I ditched a Santa Fe strip-mall street for the steep grind of uneven asphalt that split a west-side mesa into two snowy halves. My young son, 9, leaned against the door, sketchpad on lap. His hand knew the routine, knew our unkempt roads meant his spaceships sported …
An Experiment of One
Two weeks ago, the Straight Talk Express parked in front of Las Vegas’ iconic “Calumet Says Howdy” mural. The sexy cowgirl with her endless legs seemed to sit on top of the broad, bold font announcing McCain and Palin, gracing the bus with her campy presence. The Republican contender and his running mate didn’t ride …
A Case of Mysterious Identity
Vivian Vance and her sister owned the house I call my own. They lived in this simple cracked-stucco box on the edge of the Great Plains, where Mother Earth New Mexico gives birth to a flat-chested Oklahoman girl, a long-legged Texas boy. When Vivian as Ethel Mertz told Lucy Ricardo that she grew up in …
A Mom Called Paladin
A man walked across a desert wash. His black boots hit dry ground. His hand didn’t hover near his holster. He let it match his stride, let it swing in a carefree arc that spoke of contentment, of a man fully present in his body. The sagebrush rustled, almost bowed in pleasure as he passed. …
Extrasolar
I met a scientist. He stood in line at Wal-Mart, both arms balancing an overstuffed hand basket filled with Twinkies, Sara Lee pound cake, two Hungry Man dinners — Salisbury Steak and Chicken Cacciatore, a gallon of store-brand whole milk, a clear plastic box filled with buttery croissants. I looked at my own push basket. …
Marty Cherryseed
My youngest son crawls beneath my gramma’s quilt these mountain summer mornings. I brace myself to brave the scuffed pine floor in my bare feet as he flops on his stomach and places vintage comics on my extra pillow. I leave him to my warm bed, leave him to carefully turn fragile pages, to become …
State of Confusion
When movie cameras focus on the dusty Mexican border replica spanning the University Avenue bridge, they will capture the dark hours before sunrise. A man bleeding from a bullet wound will carry a battered valise filled with two million dollars cash, money found in a West Texas field littered with a dozen dead victims of …