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Memorial Day 2014

May 23rd, 2014

Yesndeedee. And when I was a kid, in certain parts of the country, believe it or don’t, it was still called Decoration Day. And it included a trip to a cemetary.

This week we visited the old adobe which was my first Santa Fe home. (Sort of home: I slept outside in my VW van and paid the tenant—my boss at work—a nominal fee for parking and use of facilities.) It’s for sale. Too small for us, though. Really showing its age. Thanks for the memories.

Time to put away those pinstripe wool pants and get out the khakis and light blue shirts, right? Right. And time for rain in Santa Fe, NM. Today, a regular gully-washer—well, what some folks in wetter parts might call a garden-variety rainstorm. (Get it? Garden? Bwahahaha…) Seems about a tenth of the town lost power. Not us, this time.

Last night was a precursor. We woke at some point to odd thunder. Didn’t seem like thunder, at first. Rather more like the sound of someone rolling a trash can down the driveway. Imagine me not fully awake, What? Today’s not Wednesday… But as minutes passed, the thunder grew to its normal (reassuring, one might say) heavy timbre.

Memorial Day: time of year too, for primary elections here. TV, newspaper, and snail mail thundering out goodwill, dreams and promises of all sorts. And sidewalk signs to have us remember politico names. I’ve urged some of the candidates running for re-election to remember promises made last time around. (I’ve made a habit of saving exact quotes.) For all the good it§rsquo;ll do. En boca cerrada no entran moscas.

But spring is in the air. The kiddles run free. Gas prices have gone up appropriately. And the grocery shelves are full-to-overflowing with cheap hot dogs and white bread buns. Folks line up at the checkout with bags of chips, cases of soft drinks, beer, and barbecue briquettes. Yippee!

Just like when we were kids. Remember?

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