6/22/11 9:00pm
I'm watching the Mexico Honduras game at a sports bar called Coaches on Univision. I'm sitting in the back room wearing my USA jersey. I am fairly certain of a few things. Thing the first: I am the only one here who isn't fluent in Spanish. Thing the second: they are wondering if I am lost. Thing the third: Spanish language television is DRAMATIC. There's always a Mexican guy that looks a little to good, a woman that looks good too and a lot of fast gibberish. At the end of the commercial either he makes out with her or she looks very worried about something that is clearly bad. Maybe its the old man that's dressed like a general. No one knows. Except for everyone else here because they understood it.
Damn, waitress just caught me looking at her. Act natural Madison. Earlier I asked her what was good on the menu. She kept talking about the "barbeque". I'm not going to order barbeque at a sports bar. Let alone a sports bar that puts onions on their pulled port sandwiches. I ended up getting the "Ranchero Fries". There is a law in New Mexico that says that you must have one "Ranchero" item on the menu at all times. You must also serve green chile peppers. That last one might be true. You can get them at McDonald's.
So the USA won today. That's cool. We're in the final. And nobody better post on here about how I said "we" when I'm just a fan. I had to watch Johnathan Bornstein play. I've paid my dues. Anyways, Freddy Adu played? Remember the guy from the Sprite commercial with Pele. I think he might have played soccer at one time. The weird part was he did well and the sun stopped in the sky. I know, I know. It sounds impossible but it happened. Adu set up a goal.
Now there is a 40 year old "cowboy" butchering "She Thinks My Tractors Sexy". But to be fair it's like ground beef through a blender. You'll know what you did tore it apart but really, the damage was done before you got there.
Now a guy is singing a song that I believe is called "Now Show Them Titties". This place is like an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Am I at Patty's? One Thing is for sure though. I am not going to clean this table. That's Charlie work.
NOW THE GUY THAT HELPED ME AT WALMART IS SINGING RAMSTEIN! That's it. This is the weirdest place on the planet. It's like the Bermuda Triangle of bars. No that doesn't do it justice. I love this place/am very scared.
Honduras has just taken Mexico to extra time. This could get messy pretty soon. Damn, Mexico just scored. Well, there goes that dream. USA/Mexico final everyone. Guess we still have to find a way to stop Chicharito. And they scored again. Man...
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Kicks on Route 66
6/19/11 5:05pm
Just finished watching the USA-Jamaica game in the quarterfinal round of the Gold Cup. It was a good way to end a pretty good weekend. To start I'm getting over my altitude sickness.By that I mean I have summoned the wherewithal to increase my red blood cells count. The universe has demanded more of me. Obviously. Or maybe its just that drinking close to three gallons of water and sleeping for 12 hours will make anyone feel better. Either way I don't feel like I'm going to die anymore so that's cool.
On Saturday I went out for the first time in Albuquerque and I had a really good time. It isn't easy trying to join a group of people who all already know each other but my solid gold personality seemed to win them over. Ok, actually they were just very nice to me. Maybe we should stop calling it southern hospitality and just call it non-yankee hospitality. Never mind, bad idea. That ones our's. I met some very interesting people including a mother of two going back to school for another degree who seemed more than capable of keeping up with the group of college kids that surrounded her. I also met a waitress who lives next to what is called the "War Zone" here, a former soldier who was stationed in Alaska of all places and a twenty two year old punk show promoter. This is why I love traveling. You meet the most interesting people. Side note: the minor league baseball team here is called the Isotopes. This is a reference to a Simpsons episode where the owners of the team plan to move the team to Albuquerque but are foiled by Homer staging a hunger strike after he uncovers the plan by noticing the "bold Southwestern flavor" of their hotdogs. Also, the wrapper said Albuquerque on the side.
I met these lovely people at a bar atop a hotel next to I-25 here in town on the old Route 66. Given how far you can see here it looks like the city is 50 miles across. It isn't but it looks that way. By the way, pay no attention to the time listed on the picture. It doesn't stay light till 2:00am here.
Anyways, back to the game. What I saw was almost unthinkable after seeing the previous games this tournament: the US put together a fairly complete game. Scored twice in the second half and was able to close out the game at the end. Not bad considering we had our number one striker hurt in the 11th minute and our best player didn't come on till the 67th. But the best part were the lovely young men that were watching the game with me. By lovely young men of course I mean raging tools that used the term "wicked" liberally. They all dressed like they were working a merch tent at the X-Games. Skater hats and hipster shirts abounded. They also tried to correct me on whether one play was a foul or not. The next play they all, simultaneously, mis-quoted the off-sides rule. I corrected them, stood up, yelled "BACK OFF ME SON!", threw my beer at them and walked out triumphant. Actually I politely corrected them and asked them where they were from. No need to make enemies. What if one day I want to work merch at the X-Games?
By the way, when did golf become popular among this sort? It makes no sense. If you say something like "gnarly divot" or "cabbage EVERYWHERE dude" then I have no respect for your sport any more. Is this where the youth of America have gone? And will X-treme putting be an event at the next X-Games? Only Urban Outfitters knows for sure.
Ok, later people
Madison
Just finished watching the USA-Jamaica game in the quarterfinal round of the Gold Cup. It was a good way to end a pretty good weekend. To start I'm getting over my altitude sickness.By that I mean I have summoned the wherewithal to increase my red blood cells count. The universe has demanded more of me. Obviously. Or maybe its just that drinking close to three gallons of water and sleeping for 12 hours will make anyone feel better. Either way I don't feel like I'm going to die anymore so that's cool.
On Saturday I went out for the first time in Albuquerque and I had a really good time. It isn't easy trying to join a group of people who all already know each other but my solid gold personality seemed to win them over. Ok, actually they were just very nice to me. Maybe we should stop calling it southern hospitality and just call it non-yankee hospitality. Never mind, bad idea. That ones our's. I met some very interesting people including a mother of two going back to school for another degree who seemed more than capable of keeping up with the group of college kids that surrounded her. I also met a waitress who lives next to what is called the "War Zone" here, a former soldier who was stationed in Alaska of all places and a twenty two year old punk show promoter. This is why I love traveling. You meet the most interesting people. Side note: the minor league baseball team here is called the Isotopes. This is a reference to a Simpsons episode where the owners of the team plan to move the team to Albuquerque but are foiled by Homer staging a hunger strike after he uncovers the plan by noticing the "bold Southwestern flavor" of their hotdogs. Also, the wrapper said Albuquerque on the side.
I met these lovely people at a bar atop a hotel next to I-25 here in town on the old Route 66. Given how far you can see here it looks like the city is 50 miles across. It isn't but it looks that way. By the way, pay no attention to the time listed on the picture. It doesn't stay light till 2:00am here.
'Anyways, back to the game. What I saw was almost unthinkable after seeing the previous games this tournament: the US put together a fairly complete game. Scored twice in the second half and was able to close out the game at the end. Not bad considering we had our number one striker hurt in the 11th minute and our best player didn't come on till the 67th. But the best part were the lovely young men that were watching the game with me. By lovely young men of course I mean raging tools that used the term "wicked" liberally. They all dressed like they were working a merch tent at the X-Games. Skater hats and hipster shirts abounded. They also tried to correct me on whether one play was a foul or not. The next play they all, simultaneously, mis-quoted the off-sides rule. I corrected them, stood up, yelled "BACK OFF ME SON!", threw my beer at them and walked out triumphant. Actually I politely corrected them and asked them where they were from. No need to make enemies. What if one day I want to work merch at the X-Games?
By the way, when did golf become popular among this sort? It makes no sense. If you say something like "gnarly divot" or "cabbage EVERYWHERE dude" then I have no respect for your sport any more. Is this where the youth of America have gone? And will X-treme putting be an event at the next X-Games? Only Urban Outfitters knows for sure.
Ok, later people
Madison
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Germany Schedule
6/19/2011 9:10pm
I have been asked several times lately when I will be in certain cities while I'm in Europe. So here's a spreadsheet of my itinerary. It can change so check back if you need to.
Germany Schedule
Stay Classy
Madison
I have been asked several times lately when I will be in certain cities while I'm in Europe. So here's a spreadsheet of my itinerary. It can change so check back if you need to.
Germany Schedule
Stay Classy
Madison
Friday, June 17, 2011
Altitude Sickness and Other Signs I am in Another Dimension
6/17/2011 7:31 pm
I believe over the past few days I have experienced my first bout with altitude sickness. Apparently the red blood cell count of a small, nonathletic guy from Alabama isn't good enough to handle the low oxygen environment of one place on the planet which God clearly never intended people to live. I have made a mockery of God's natural order and this be my punishment.
God's judgement on my chosen location combined with the dry air will get a lot of people, including me apparently, under the weather which is as strange term for a place that is literally over a considerable portion of the world's weather. The air here is just dry enough to make you pray for death. By just a smidge. So as I sit here trying to stay cool, hydrated and oxygenated(?) I can't help but think about home. As tough, unshakeable and all-round incredible as I am (for any one who doesn't know me, think Duke Nukem only cooler and with altitude sickness) if you prick me I do bleed, though not without a sizeable body count. As such I do miss things from home. I miss my family. I miss my friends (crappy movie at Jill's anyone?). I miss Blackwell's on Thursdays and Talking Football. I miss not having to jump through hoops to get on the internet. I miss spur of the moment trips to Atlanta so I can give European exchange students a bad example of Americans (there are only like four Americans there). But I think most of all I miss water and oxygen. They really are great. No better than great, dare I say necessary. I remember the old adage my grandmother told me, "water and oxygen are the basis of all biochemical processes and life as we know it would be impossible without them." Ah Grandmother, she was so whimsical in her old age.
So to honor the memory of by beloved 49th in education and corrupt as Hell Alabama I was thinking about the the differences here. For instance, I've never been good with languages and as such I've never understood the meaning of Rio Grande but I always expected it to be a very grand river. Not so much. I think its fame must be in supplying a water table as a tease of the possibility of water in the future. I crossed it the other day. I really do wonder why they bothered to build a bridge over it. If they hadn't surely the worst that would have happened was a slightly wet road. Everyone reading this has crossed more impressive streams while walking in the rain downtown. All of this has, analytically, helped me decipher what the words Rio Grande mean: creek.
In Alabama we have rabbits. Their natural habitats are pet stores and petting zoo pens. But in New Mexico there must have been a horrible disaster while transporting the denizens of the worlds largest pet store and or petting zoo because apparently these notoriously amorous animals have escaped and populated the wasteland. After being here for about a week I have a new found respect for these animals. They are apparently the manliest of beast. As I was driving home down a dirt road to the very expensive home I am staying in (more on that in a minute) I saw a rabbit sitting in the road. Now if you saw a sheriff's car (he had no way of knowing I wasn't one) approaching you at roughly 40 miles per hour you'd probably move out of the way because you fear it or because that's what "the Man" wants you to do. Not this rebel, he stared my Crown Vic to a complete stop with eyes so dark he seemed to be telling me, "Do your worst city boy. I've seem things you can't imagine." When you have several hundred siblings you probably have to learn to live on your own. That shear, don't take any crap from anybody attitude combined with their ability to live with altitude sickness, eat your entire yard and their legendary procreative prowess... Rabbits are tougher than you.
My manhood being threatened by rabbits leads in nicely to my next failing. I've never been one for very spicy food. When I say spicy food I mean the kind of spicy we have in Alabama. The spicy food they have here is a different world. I went to a barbeque restaurant today and there was a guy eating jalapenos. When I say jalapenos I don't mean he had some on his plate because he thinks they compliment the Texas style barbeque nicely. I mean he had a plate of jalapenos and was eating them as you or I might eat fries. I'd love to see what would happen if I tried that.
"Madison how are the peppers?"
"Ha..he..."
"What was that?"
"Ki...Keeee"
"What... Madison? Oh crap we're loosing him."
"Ki.. KKill me. I'm... I'm sure there's a peep...pepper here you can use."
"Did anybody get that? What's happening with his eyes?"
"Somebody help him. Get him some habaneros."
I'm not sure what to write next because I don't know what a defibrillator sounds like but the good, tongue scared people of Albuquerque would surely save me. I went to another restaurant and the waitress asked me how spicy I wanted it. I told her I was from Alabama. She put the sauce on the side and looked at me like I was dirt.
Next, the dirt. They don't have any. They have sand. Just the kind of sand you would see in a old western. It's the kind of sand that makes you expect a quick cut to a rattle snake. Yet somehow they have "trees" growing here. I have deducted that trees is Spanish for shrubs. And there are cacti everywhere which sucks because the sand just invites sandles. It's a sick joke is what it is.
In Egypt, long ago, old Kingdom laborers cut stores to level and strengthen the paths around the temples at Giza. These were the first paved roads and everyone agreed that was a really good idea. Top notch. Civilization then went pave crazy and now you can ride your Ford Fiesta from Thailand to the tip of Africa if you are a so inclined idiot. I would very much like to bring this idea to New Mexico. Don't get me wrong, the main roads are paved. The streets that branch off the main streets are paved, sort of, I'll give it to them for the effort. They clearly aren't very good at it but they tried. But there are a great many side streets that have no pavement. Furthermore, they have votes and elect NOT to pave these roads. Roads that people live on. And these roads have the lovely characteristic of having hundreds of ridges and valley, as if the wind decided to see just how far he could push the citizens here. What you are left with is a decision. 40 miles per hour and a cloud of dust that follows you home like a lost puppy that also hates you or the bumpiest ride you have ever experienced. And these aren't the impoverished living here. No, the poor having long since learned survival skills moved to the city and its miles of paved tracks. These are the well to do people. These are the Mercedes driving folk that eat tofu and read the Atlantic. It boggles the mind.
Ok, I need to go. I left the window to my room cracked and now all the bugs are flying in. Don't worry though. Alabama does now and will forever more rule that department.
Later
Madison
I believe over the past few days I have experienced my first bout with altitude sickness. Apparently the red blood cell count of a small, nonathletic guy from Alabama isn't good enough to handle the low oxygen environment of one place on the planet which God clearly never intended people to live. I have made a mockery of God's natural order and this be my punishment.
God's judgement on my chosen location combined with the dry air will get a lot of people, including me apparently, under the weather which is as strange term for a place that is literally over a considerable portion of the world's weather. The air here is just dry enough to make you pray for death. By just a smidge. So as I sit here trying to stay cool, hydrated and oxygenated(?) I can't help but think about home. As tough, unshakeable and all-round incredible as I am (for any one who doesn't know me, think Duke Nukem only cooler and with altitude sickness) if you prick me I do bleed, though not without a sizeable body count. As such I do miss things from home. I miss my family. I miss my friends (crappy movie at Jill's anyone?). I miss Blackwell's on Thursdays and Talking Football. I miss not having to jump through hoops to get on the internet. I miss spur of the moment trips to Atlanta so I can give European exchange students a bad example of Americans (there are only like four Americans there). But I think most of all I miss water and oxygen. They really are great. No better than great, dare I say necessary. I remember the old adage my grandmother told me, "water and oxygen are the basis of all biochemical processes and life as we know it would be impossible without them." Ah Grandmother, she was so whimsical in her old age.
So to honor the memory of by beloved 49th in education and corrupt as Hell Alabama I was thinking about the the differences here. For instance, I've never been good with languages and as such I've never understood the meaning of Rio Grande but I always expected it to be a very grand river. Not so much. I think its fame must be in supplying a water table as a tease of the possibility of water in the future. I crossed it the other day. I really do wonder why they bothered to build a bridge over it. If they hadn't surely the worst that would have happened was a slightly wet road. Everyone reading this has crossed more impressive streams while walking in the rain downtown. All of this has, analytically, helped me decipher what the words Rio Grande mean: creek.
In Alabama we have rabbits. Their natural habitats are pet stores and petting zoo pens. But in New Mexico there must have been a horrible disaster while transporting the denizens of the worlds largest pet store and or petting zoo because apparently these notoriously amorous animals have escaped and populated the wasteland. After being here for about a week I have a new found respect for these animals. They are apparently the manliest of beast. As I was driving home down a dirt road to the very expensive home I am staying in (more on that in a minute) I saw a rabbit sitting in the road. Now if you saw a sheriff's car (he had no way of knowing I wasn't one) approaching you at roughly 40 miles per hour you'd probably move out of the way because you fear it or because that's what "the Man" wants you to do. Not this rebel, he stared my Crown Vic to a complete stop with eyes so dark he seemed to be telling me, "Do your worst city boy. I've seem things you can't imagine." When you have several hundred siblings you probably have to learn to live on your own. That shear, don't take any crap from anybody attitude combined with their ability to live with altitude sickness, eat your entire yard and their legendary procreative prowess... Rabbits are tougher than you.
My manhood being threatened by rabbits leads in nicely to my next failing. I've never been one for very spicy food. When I say spicy food I mean the kind of spicy we have in Alabama. The spicy food they have here is a different world. I went to a barbeque restaurant today and there was a guy eating jalapenos. When I say jalapenos I don't mean he had some on his plate because he thinks they compliment the Texas style barbeque nicely. I mean he had a plate of jalapenos and was eating them as you or I might eat fries. I'd love to see what would happen if I tried that.
"Madison how are the peppers?"
"Ha..he..."
"What was that?"
"Ki...Keeee"
"What... Madison? Oh crap we're loosing him."
"Ki.. KKill me. I'm... I'm sure there's a peep...pepper here you can use."
"Did anybody get that? What's happening with his eyes?"
"Somebody help him. Get him some habaneros."
I'm not sure what to write next because I don't know what a defibrillator sounds like but the good, tongue scared people of Albuquerque would surely save me. I went to another restaurant and the waitress asked me how spicy I wanted it. I told her I was from Alabama. She put the sauce on the side and looked at me like I was dirt.
Next, the dirt. They don't have any. They have sand. Just the kind of sand you would see in a old western. It's the kind of sand that makes you expect a quick cut to a rattle snake. Yet somehow they have "trees" growing here. I have deducted that trees is Spanish for shrubs. And there are cacti everywhere which sucks because the sand just invites sandles. It's a sick joke is what it is.
In Egypt, long ago, old Kingdom laborers cut stores to level and strengthen the paths around the temples at Giza. These were the first paved roads and everyone agreed that was a really good idea. Top notch. Civilization then went pave crazy and now you can ride your Ford Fiesta from Thailand to the tip of Africa if you are a so inclined idiot. I would very much like to bring this idea to New Mexico. Don't get me wrong, the main roads are paved. The streets that branch off the main streets are paved, sort of, I'll give it to them for the effort. They clearly aren't very good at it but they tried. But there are a great many side streets that have no pavement. Furthermore, they have votes and elect NOT to pave these roads. Roads that people live on. And these roads have the lovely characteristic of having hundreds of ridges and valley, as if the wind decided to see just how far he could push the citizens here. What you are left with is a decision. 40 miles per hour and a cloud of dust that follows you home like a lost puppy that also hates you or the bumpiest ride you have ever experienced. And these aren't the impoverished living here. No, the poor having long since learned survival skills moved to the city and its miles of paved tracks. These are the well to do people. These are the Mercedes driving folk that eat tofu and read the Atlantic. It boggles the mind.
Ok, I need to go. I left the window to my room cracked and now all the bugs are flying in. Don't worry though. Alabama does now and will forever more rule that department.
Later
Madison
Monday, June 13, 2011
I'm Gonna be Sick
6/11/2011 8:40pm
I just got through watching the USA-Panamagame in the Gold Cup. For those who don't know, I am in no mood to go any into further explanations other than to say that Panama is a team we should always beat. As I'm sure you can gather from my text so far, we did not win. Let me tell you the story.
It all started this morning when I got ready, took a shower and drove to a coffee shop near where I am staying. I say near in the loosest terms but it was the closest shop. I got my coffee and sat down to partake in the one product they had that wasn't on the menu: free internet access. From there I looked on Google to find the closest sports bar. Again, close is a relative term here. I fumbled through the listing looking up numbers and calling venues all in a vain attempt to find a place that would let me watch the only sport on I currently care about. No luck. There is apparently a UFC fight on tonight that takes precedent, mildly repressed, homoerotic precedent. Sorry, I'm in a bad mood. Anyways, so after a little while I call a very kind woman named Sandi who I was told could help me get acclimated to to New Mexico. As expected, she delivered and directed me to a place called Kelly's Brewery which was about 20 miles away from where I am staying. So I go, fight the traffic and construction and find a parking place. I dock the boat and go in. As usual there is a large crowd there to watch the game (3 people including me). After what seemed like an eternity, the rocket scientist that was working the TV and serving the drinks finally landed on the station (we told her the name of the program and the station. She passed it twice.)
From here the events can easily be sorted into good, ok, and bad. Good: food, beer. This is a brewery after all and the Rueben was pretty good. Ok: conversation with the one guy I met there. His name was Tosh and he was very entertaining. He was born in Tibet, adopted in Indiana by an American family and lived everywhere the runs shines. After he did that he decided to come to watch the game. Bad: entire US soccer team. Gave up two goals in the first half including one in the 19th minute that was competely avoidable. Jozy Altidore, after having such a great game against Canada, released his man and allowed him to come flying in on the wing to lay a ball down right in front of the goal. Not to say that there isn't plenty of blame to go around. Howard should have smothered the ball and someone should have gotten back to the line to try and clear the ball. Couple that with some very bad refereeing and a team that couldn't finish and didn't care and you have the first US loss in the Gold Cup group stage (round-robin for all the non-soccer people here). Bad day. On the plus side I did get to see a little of downtown Albuquerque. I'm currently in the University part of the city which always tends to be the most interesting part of a city. The style here is pretty cool. It's a nice mix of the 50's Americana and southwestern. You know, stylized, brightly-colored rockets ships and adobe architecture. But on this side of town its clearly more Americana. The old Route 66 style is alive here probably because I think I'm actually on the old Route 66, complete its over stylized gas stations and tourist traps. But none of that matters cause I'm pissed and have no where to go. Aww screw it. I'll go home. Tomorrow will be better. Sandi said she'd call me and help me find something to do. If she does then you'll no doubt here about it. Alright, till then boys and girl.
Later
Madison
I just got through watching the USA-Panamagame in the Gold Cup. For those who don't know, I am in no mood to go any into further explanations other than to say that Panama is a team we should always beat. As I'm sure you can gather from my text so far, we did not win. Let me tell you the story.
It all started this morning when I got ready, took a shower and drove to a coffee shop near where I am staying. I say near in the loosest terms but it was the closest shop. I got my coffee and sat down to partake in the one product they had that wasn't on the menu: free internet access. From there I looked on Google to find the closest sports bar. Again, close is a relative term here. I fumbled through the listing looking up numbers and calling venues all in a vain attempt to find a place that would let me watch the only sport on I currently care about. No luck. There is apparently a UFC fight on tonight that takes precedent, mildly repressed, homoerotic precedent. Sorry, I'm in a bad mood. Anyways, so after a little while I call a very kind woman named Sandi who I was told could help me get acclimated to to New Mexico. As expected, she delivered and directed me to a place called Kelly's Brewery which was about 20 miles away from where I am staying. So I go, fight the traffic and construction and find a parking place. I dock the boat and go in. As usual there is a large crowd there to watch the game (3 people including me). After what seemed like an eternity, the rocket scientist that was working the TV and serving the drinks finally landed on the station (we told her the name of the program and the station. She passed it twice.)
From here the events can easily be sorted into good, ok, and bad. Good: food, beer. This is a brewery after all and the Rueben was pretty good. Ok: conversation with the one guy I met there. His name was Tosh and he was very entertaining. He was born in Tibet, adopted in Indiana by an American family and lived everywhere the runs shines. After he did that he decided to come to watch the game. Bad: entire US soccer team. Gave up two goals in the first half including one in the 19th minute that was competely avoidable. Jozy Altidore, after having such a great game against Canada, released his man and allowed him to come flying in on the wing to lay a ball down right in front of the goal. Not to say that there isn't plenty of blame to go around. Howard should have smothered the ball and someone should have gotten back to the line to try and clear the ball. Couple that with some very bad refereeing and a team that couldn't finish and didn't care and you have the first US loss in the Gold Cup group stage (round-robin for all the non-soccer people here). Bad day. On the plus side I did get to see a little of downtown Albuquerque. I'm currently in the University part of the city which always tends to be the most interesting part of a city. The style here is pretty cool. It's a nice mix of the 50's Americana and southwestern. You know, stylized, brightly-colored rockets ships and adobe architecture. But on this side of town its clearly more Americana. The old Route 66 style is alive here probably because I think I'm actually on the old Route 66, complete its over stylized gas stations and tourist traps. But none of that matters cause I'm pissed and have no where to go. Aww screw it. I'll go home. Tomorrow will be better. Sandi said she'd call me and help me find something to do. If she does then you'll no doubt here about it. Alright, till then boys and girl.
Later
Madison
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Things I Learned on a High Plains Desert and in a Cop Car
6/11/11 11:13am
I've been here for about 48 hours now and I've learned a few things. First off, Albuquerque is high. Really high. Like Denver high. I'm about a mile above sea level. Ten miles out the window of the coffee shop I'm sitting in is a mountain that's easily another mile up.
Second, cop cars handle like boats. When the guy I'm staying with said he had an old cop car I could use I thought he meant he had something similar to a cop car. You know, the old Crown Vic that has enough living space for a family of four. What I didn't expect was the very visible outline of the word SHERIFF across the front doors where a decal had been removed and the same thing with the car number written across the back of the roof. This thing is unbelievable. After seeing it I was very happy I brought my cheap, gold rimmed Aviators. License and registration please. Check out the two pictures of it below. It's cool. What wouldn't be cool is trying to pilot this tank in anything resembling a high speed pursuit. This thing bounces and chugs along, fighting you the whole way. The only thing its missing is the saddle. You don't drive this car, you ride it.
Third, we do not have Mexican food in Alabama. We think we do but we don't. I had blue corn chicken enchiladas with green chile sauce on the recommendation of a person that used to live here. Wow, much better than Taco Casa. And I really like Taco Casa. (Actually they don't here apparently either. I was just corrected. It's New Mexico food on account of the fact that they use chili peppers instead of jalapenos.)
Fourth, the world physically expands the further west you go. In Alabama a 5 hour drive was the upper limit for weekend trips. Anything longer than that required a significant time commitment to justify. If that were the case here I could go to Santa Fe or the barren wasteland of the New Mexico high plains desert to die. Okay, that's an exaggeration but you get the idea. In five hours from Birmingham you can get to Altanta, Panama City, Orange Beach, New Orleans, Tuscaloosa, Auburn, Nashville, Chattanooga, Memphis, Huntsville... The southeast is a small, densely packed region apparently. I didn't know that. But there's more then that. In Birmingham I lived on a hill and the farthest I could see on a clear day is about 20 miles, to the steam towers of the West Jefferson Steam Plant. The first day I got here I could see the outline of a mountain that is about a hundred miles away from my backyard. I could see a mesa that was 30 miles away quite clearly. It's incredible.
Fifth, wild fires suck. There is a very bad wild fire in the mountains to the south west of Albuquerque and the winds are blowing the smoke through the city. It isn't that bad but it makes the air hazy and breathing more difficult if you have something like asthma. I have asthma. Lovely. They say that it will probably burn itself out fairly soon.
Sixth, finding a sports bar in a new town is impossible without the internet. It is made infinitely harder if the town you happen to be in is filled with hippies and hiking/outdoors people. Apparently these people are not interested in watching and would prefer doing. Losers.
Seventh, Albuquerque is great but Albuquerque is weird. On the way here I passed a van parked on the side of the road selling beef jerky. It wasn't selling beef jerky and other things, just beef jerky. That means that somewhere there is a man here that decided that he would start a business with the model being he would make his own jerky and then market his product with yellow signs on the side of the road. At some point the cold realization probably set in that these signs require some sort of physical support and his hopes for financial independence through salted meats were almost dashed till he remember that the van that he was probably living in could support said signs and an empire was born. He now lives in as many as three vans and scatters them along the roads of Bernalillo County to sell his wares. A true American success story. On that same road that I saw the beef jerky van(s) I also was a plexiglass walled, homemade trailer with a sign over it that read "REAL INSECTS AND BUTTERFLIES". I must give that guy credit. I didn't know there was a market there.
Alright everybody, thanks for reading.
Later
Madison
I've been here for about 48 hours now and I've learned a few things. First off, Albuquerque is high. Really high. Like Denver high. I'm about a mile above sea level. Ten miles out the window of the coffee shop I'm sitting in is a mountain that's easily another mile up.
Second, cop cars handle like boats. When the guy I'm staying with said he had an old cop car I could use I thought he meant he had something similar to a cop car. You know, the old Crown Vic that has enough living space for a family of four. What I didn't expect was the very visible outline of the word SHERIFF across the front doors where a decal had been removed and the same thing with the car number written across the back of the roof. This thing is unbelievable. After seeing it I was very happy I brought my cheap, gold rimmed Aviators. License and registration please. Check out the two pictures of it below. It's cool. What wouldn't be cool is trying to pilot this tank in anything resembling a high speed pursuit. This thing bounces and chugs along, fighting you the whole way. The only thing its missing is the saddle. You don't drive this car, you ride it.
Third, we do not have Mexican food in Alabama. We think we do but we don't. I had blue corn chicken enchiladas with green chile sauce on the recommendation of a person that used to live here. Wow, much better than Taco Casa. And I really like Taco Casa. (Actually they don't here apparently either. I was just corrected. It's New Mexico food on account of the fact that they use chili peppers instead of jalapenos.)
Fourth, the world physically expands the further west you go. In Alabama a 5 hour drive was the upper limit for weekend trips. Anything longer than that required a significant time commitment to justify. If that were the case here I could go to Santa Fe or the barren wasteland of the New Mexico high plains desert to die. Okay, that's an exaggeration but you get the idea. In five hours from Birmingham you can get to Altanta, Panama City, Orange Beach, New Orleans, Tuscaloosa, Auburn, Nashville, Chattanooga, Memphis, Huntsville... The southeast is a small, densely packed region apparently. I didn't know that. But there's more then that. In Birmingham I lived on a hill and the farthest I could see on a clear day is about 20 miles, to the steam towers of the West Jefferson Steam Plant. The first day I got here I could see the outline of a mountain that is about a hundred miles away from my backyard. I could see a mesa that was 30 miles away quite clearly. It's incredible.
Fifth, wild fires suck. There is a very bad wild fire in the mountains to the south west of Albuquerque and the winds are blowing the smoke through the city. It isn't that bad but it makes the air hazy and breathing more difficult if you have something like asthma. I have asthma. Lovely. They say that it will probably burn itself out fairly soon.
Sixth, finding a sports bar in a new town is impossible without the internet. It is made infinitely harder if the town you happen to be in is filled with hippies and hiking/outdoors people. Apparently these people are not interested in watching and would prefer doing. Losers.
Seventh, Albuquerque is great but Albuquerque is weird. On the way here I passed a van parked on the side of the road selling beef jerky. It wasn't selling beef jerky and other things, just beef jerky. That means that somewhere there is a man here that decided that he would start a business with the model being he would make his own jerky and then market his product with yellow signs on the side of the road. At some point the cold realization probably set in that these signs require some sort of physical support and his hopes for financial independence through salted meats were almost dashed till he remember that the van that he was probably living in could support said signs and an empire was born. He now lives in as many as three vans and scatters them along the roads of Bernalillo County to sell his wares. A true American success story. On that same road that I saw the beef jerky van(s) I also was a plexiglass walled, homemade trailer with a sign over it that read "REAL INSECTS AND BUTTERFLIES". I must give that guy credit. I didn't know there was a market there.
Alright everybody, thanks for reading.
Later
Madison
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Birmingham before Albuquerque
6/9/2011 6:00am
It's 6:00am at the Birmingham "International" Airport. In about one hour I'll be taking off for Dallas, a one hour lay-over and a connecting flight to New Mexico. After that its really anybody's guess. I got this job after my old job ended. The engineer I was working with felt bad that I was about to be prematurely unemployed and asked a customer of his if he needed help. There was a phone interview, two other detail oriented conversations, an email offer and a ticket purchase. The whole ordeal only took about 3 weeks. I barely had time to say my goodbyes and get everything packed. In fact I imagine there are things I forgot in both cases. However, here I am.
Now I realize that I don't exactly look like a business traveler right now in my multicolored fedora, trail shoes and slightly-more fashionable-then-engineering-allows T-shirt but I'm very surprised. I'm surrounded by people and the only ones that look like they are traveling for work are the mafioso looking old men 50 feet from me and one guy wearing an Auburn polo. He's probably having to relocate after losing his job at the tractor plant. Sad story really but the economy's rough and his degree sucks. Other then the previously described stiffs there's a May/December romance sitting across from me next to a college student working on the largest cross stitch I've ever seen. The hipster next to me, complete with prerequisite Mac Book, hasn't looked up once. Probably doing something terrible self-important. Like judging people... or blogging. There's also a lot of parents with their kids which makes sense I guess if the alternative is turning the youth of America on our most precious tourist destinations to do their worst but I don't remember traveling much when I was their age. I think the first time I ever flew on a plane was my freshman year of high school. After that there's a bunch of people that are totally nondescript: College Guy with an Afro, guy in NASA shirt, bunch of guys in khakis, old married couples. Actually the Afro guy probably deserved more of a write-up but he's gone now.
That's probably more information then any of ya'll wanted but I have nothing else to do and I've been telling myself I'd do an entry before I got to New Mexico. Ok, that's all I got right now. If you've made it this far thanks. I'll miss all of you but I'll come back. Never fear. Until later.
Madison
It's 6:00am at the Birmingham "International" Airport. In about one hour I'll be taking off for Dallas, a one hour lay-over and a connecting flight to New Mexico. After that its really anybody's guess. I got this job after my old job ended. The engineer I was working with felt bad that I was about to be prematurely unemployed and asked a customer of his if he needed help. There was a phone interview, two other detail oriented conversations, an email offer and a ticket purchase. The whole ordeal only took about 3 weeks. I barely had time to say my goodbyes and get everything packed. In fact I imagine there are things I forgot in both cases. However, here I am.
Now I realize that I don't exactly look like a business traveler right now in my multicolored fedora, trail shoes and slightly-more fashionable-then-engineering-allows T-shirt but I'm very surprised. I'm surrounded by people and the only ones that look like they are traveling for work are the mafioso looking old men 50 feet from me and one guy wearing an Auburn polo. He's probably having to relocate after losing his job at the tractor plant. Sad story really but the economy's rough and his degree sucks. Other then the previously described stiffs there's a May/December romance sitting across from me next to a college student working on the largest cross stitch I've ever seen. The hipster next to me, complete with prerequisite Mac Book, hasn't looked up once. Probably doing something terrible self-important. Like judging people... or blogging. There's also a lot of parents with their kids which makes sense I guess if the alternative is turning the youth of America on our most precious tourist destinations to do their worst but I don't remember traveling much when I was their age. I think the first time I ever flew on a plane was my freshman year of high school. After that there's a bunch of people that are totally nondescript: College Guy with an Afro, guy in NASA shirt, bunch of guys in khakis, old married couples. Actually the Afro guy probably deserved more of a write-up but he's gone now.
That's probably more information then any of ya'll wanted but I have nothing else to do and I've been telling myself I'd do an entry before I got to New Mexico. Ok, that's all I got right now. If you've made it this far thanks. I'll miss all of you but I'll come back. Never fear. Until later.
Madison
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