CINCO DE MAYO 2016 Saludos mi amigos! It’s true. When I started UNM in the early 70s one of my first jobs was at the Camino Real de Ron y Marsha on Yale. I was a pearl diver and then assistant cook to Ron. The original recipes came via Marsha’s parents Mary and Tito, NM food icons. Carne adovada was a specialty. The added bonus was that I got to eat for free before and after my shift. Heaven for a poor college boy. We made fresh salsa daily and a little tequila was added. The bottle was kept on the highest cabinet. Of a morning Tito would come in the back door and (when Ron wasn’t looking) he would add a little more tequila. Then he would add a little tequila to Tito. I learned so much there about New Mexican food and have been using and tweaking those recipes for 40+ years. I’ll be siding it with a pot of pintos con cebolla, jalapeno y ajo. All will be served con mucho queso y tortillas. Jealous yet? Now that I’m retired I have plenty of free time which I manage to fill with cooking, smart media and little crafting things. The trading cards come in limited editions, sets of 24. I am always glad to hear that you are well and happy. Let’s continue to keep in touch. Bye for now. I remain Your Faithful Servant

100 words - hunny bunny was the mistake waving him off the week before too drunk when sleep loomed inviting arriving this time it was i have something to tell you but not right now watching teenage hellcats i had no clue you fucking fool that the end of everything was near i love you i love you more he had said and now i took that job and the abyss opened he has a corvette dear so on to traviata you said i wouldn’t have to watch that again now everything is different sunday morning can i remember how the doorknob works

Cassandra’s Word. The cake is baked. This will be Donnie v Hilly. Clinton will be the next President of the United States of America. Don’t get me wrong here. I’ve signed a deal with a personal devil (since you asked, Piano Mindy) and will vote the Bern in the NM primary early June. She agreed in turn to support our nominee. I am disappointed (there’s a parent word) with the rancor we are promoting in our own tribe. That reminds me of Reagan’s 11th commandment. Speak no ill. Tonight we ride. This Tribe understands that in unity there is strength.

Five unusual jobs I got paid for in no particular order. Delivering belly grams. I had my own finger cymbals, a beaded belt and silken bloomers on loan. Pearl diver then assistant cook at Camino Real. That’s where I learned to make Mary and Tito’s carne adovada. Forty plus years now I’m still working on the recipe. NM legends. Champagne King at the Roxy. Nude model for UNM art classes. Shout out here to Don Schrader. Singing maitre d’ at Ole Henry’s. I proposed to a gal in the bus station. We almost got married.

I’m aiming this like a bubble gun at the head of my friend Douglas Nilles. He’s out of Montgomery IL. He has been very kind to me. There’s a douglasnilles.com but I can’t get it to load just yet. He is experiencing quintessential success with his fabulous photographs. He and his dog Blue roam the Chicago night and also show us real street people during the day. His work makes me think. Perhaps even larger than that, he has a project where he distributes socks to people without means who can easily be overjoyed with a new pair of socks, man woman and child. Doug, I have a proposal for you. I do not mean to distract anyone from your work. You know I never sell my pieces. They are free meat. I propose a new economy where a few unique pieces of mine are available in exchange for socks. I will make you my sole and exclusive agent for marketing a few of my pieces: The Egg of Creation. Floral Box. Dali Crucifix tile in Cradle. Even something new exclusively for this endeavor. I enjoy playing Dutch uncle to Doug, poking and goading him as he travels. I’ll pay for all packaging and postage to you. Perhaps at one of your shows you can offer them in a brief auction. This economy is based solely on socks and you are the sole arbiter. Of course, it’s shameless self promotion for me, hitching my wagon to your star. Let’s do this! All in your good time. It’s said, if you want something done, assign the task to a busy man. To work is to worship.

Queer rant. I’ve lost patience with a FB friend from HS. He is the most homophobic, racist and sexist person left in my online tribe. I’m wrestling with whether to just block him and be done with that. I struggle to be open with those with whom I do not agree. He’s off on a week’s golf tour in the South. The only bitches, beaners, coons, queers and chinks he’ll encounter will be in service roles. Rosita, freshen my room. Manuel, get my bag. Ito, let’s have sushi and dim sum after I get back. Chad, get some fresh flowers in here. Mark, set up the bar and make sure we have plenty of juleps. These people are people who don’t get it. We’re already here. They’ve got the guns but we’ve got the numbers. I freely admit that I am an old white male of some privilege. We are going to die and open the way for newer voices and greater equality. I really don’t want to wait around long enough to see it complete. I’ll go to the undiscovered country well before the matinee. I know how to predict the future. Luck is really a combination of preparation and opportunity. I have a pineapple crumble in the oven. For this moment I know what the future will bring. Apre Moi Le Deluge.

Ten Children’s Stories That Grew Up 1. Jack and Phil 2. Mr. Turd’s Wild Ride 3. Little Miss Muffet Sat On Pinocchio 4. The Walrus And The Pizza Delivery Guy 5. Huge Willie Winkie 6. Winnie The Poop 7. Hey Diddle Diddle So The Cat Did 8. Humpty Humpty Dumpty 9. This Little Piggie Went To A Massage Parlor 10. Puss In Spike Heels

A long form post. This has been bubbling on the back burner for a while. Events in Belgium have brought it to the fore. It was Tuesday morning September 11 2001 and I was just up and getting ready for work when the phone rang. A co-worker asked me if they could use the TV in my office; they’d heard that something terrible was going down in NYC. I turned on my home TV in time to see the second plane strike. NM hadn’t considered any office closures so off to work I went. For some time I was depressed and anxious as so many people were. I considered how I was to deal with this. I resolved to fly to Chicago and get up in a tall building. A magazine article noted that the Signature Room in the Hancock Center was then the highest restaurant in the world after the fall of Windows on the World. Tourism and travel took a hard hit so it was pretty easy to get a dinner reservation there on 10/26 at 6 for my 49th birthday. I was fortunate that, on hearing my plan, my sister decided to fly from VA to CHI to join me. We toddled about the city of broad shoulders, saw art and sights, went to Trader Vic’s on The Loop for a tropical cocktail, and then arrived for dinner timely. The restaurant is on the 95th floor and is surrounded with large plate glass windows that overlook Navy Pier and its brightly lit attractions and giant Ferris wheel. I had a huge delicious rib eye steak and they brought my complimentary dessert on a plate with my name in strawberry syrup. I figured, I can do this. The French suffered horribly and yet soon after they were again on the streets, in sidewalk cafes drinking coffee and wine and eating stinky cheese with croissants. The Belgians will do the same in their own time. Now in Middle Eastern countries ravaged by war they still gather for coffee and perhaps a hookah to confirm their bonds with each other. Israelis still dance the hora at weddings. This is about terrorism. I do not believe that evil is any kind of active force in the world. There are misguided ignorant people, some of whom have bad wiring in their brains. I’m not gilding the lily here. Shit happens. Stuff blows up. People die. This will continue. FDR said, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Edward R Murrow said, we will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason. Mark Twain said, courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear. Don’t settle for being fearful. Talk it out by yourself and with a friend. Then adjust your accoutrement and get back on the field.

The Quark family lives near the Leptons. The Leptons have been invited to the Quark’s home for game night. The Quarks are the kids Eenie Meenie Minie Manny and mom Mo and pop Jack. The Leptons are kids Micky the twins Daisy and Donald then Goofy and mom Minnie and dad Jiminy. The Forces live down the street. Their kids are Canola (we think he’s adopted) and Sunflower and their mother is Olive. Everybody calls the old man Motor. We don’t mess with them much. They pretty much run everything in the neighborhood. After Jack and Jiminy coax the gals and kids into the family room for a spirited round of Twister they sneak into the kitchen for a quick snort of the whisky hidden behind the sink.

YFSLabs R&D have spent several years on various dictums. Current results are as follows. Stop clenching your teeth. Don’t hunch your shoulders. Relax into it. There is no good reason to clench your teeth. You know you do. Suppose you are opening a new jar of pickles and it is not cooperating. You clench your teeth as though it will help your upper body strength. It’s like sticking out your tongue a little. There are only two decent reasons to hunch your shoulders. If you are launching into a physical combat with an opponent you may want to become a smaller target. If you are walking into a stormy headwind the same is true. Other than that hunching your shoulders is an avoidance behavior that harms your stature. There’s an old politically incorrect line in many cultures that amounts to, if rape is inevitable lie back and enjoy it. The inevitability of stuff happening is a sword that cuts two ways. Bad stuff happens. Good stuff happens. Relax into it. Any moment now things will turn again.

This has been brewing in the brain pan for a while. My good friend Doug Nilles made a telling note about art. I’ve said repeatedly that the difference between art and fart is the letter f. Kurt Vonnegut wrote, “The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.” Considering myself to be a craftsman, not an artist, allows me to include food, craft pieces constructed from paper and glue, ikebana. Word pieces. Make something. Do something. Create a song in your head. You can take something you’ve found that you like and then amplify it and share in a moment. Something New! Something that was never there before. Just because there are no new ideas under the sun is no reason to stop working.

The campaign of Marshall Youtzy 2016 is a broad coalition of right and left. The spokesman noted: In those days, after work was finished, Ronald Reagan would have Tip O’Neill by The House for a few belts. They would kick the can around. This is how we work. We can agree to disagree. We can still get things done.

I’ve a novel idea. With the death of Scalia Obama should and will nominate; the Republicans have vowed to and will obstruct. For good or ill this will not be resolved during Obama’s term. Here’s the deal. I’d throw my hat on the table and nominate a Native American jurist, even better, a woman. Our constitution is based on theirs in many ways. Since the Rs must oppose let them chew on that in public. I’d love that circus.

Every once in a while there’s an hour or so And you sit on the far side of the rise from camp And keep an eye on the sleeping cattle down below A darkness that could cover all but seems to want to make friends With your lamp doesn’t want to go But it’s a regular dance in a small town hall with a scratchy violin And down ‘round New Mexico there’s another late night lamp With another enchanting glow The moon didn’t want to go either but he has prairie to cover And he knew the sun would get there soon enough And ruin his lesser show and chase him off anyway The sounds of the cook stove and coffee pot start talking Behind your back Pickup tires crossing the cattle guard Sand in your teeth and grounds in the coffee The sun saddles up We’ll watch him go too And me and my lamp will see another show

There may have been some residual confusion regarding “tonight we ride.” Here’s the deal. We assemble. I ride lead. My minions mount. Our dogs assemble nearby; they know we’re going. Each minion has one of our cats on saddle. The whip cracks and so we go. The moon is favorable. As we gain speed in the crisp night air we travel as one. A foolish tribe imagines they can raid our caravan and ride nearby attempting to gain control. Our dogs nip at their heels. As they draw body close each minion throws his cat onto an enemy rider to claw his neck and face. When they are brushed off they fall to the ground and one of our dogs pauses so his cat can mount his back and continue. The enemy is rather pitiful. We could sword them yet it is more efficient to beat them with the sticks we carry. Our sticks are larger than theirs. They retreat in fear, having been taught a valuable lesson. When we then establish our night camp we fire up meat. We laugh and bust each other with bad jokes. Our dogs and cats get their due. We drink the mead until the fire is nigh on dead and then retire. My dog and cat come and rest close to me in my tent. Life is good.

I’m reality checking here. You gave me a gift. I didn’t need it yet it was a nice thought. Within a couple days you made it disappear. I get that. You reappeared shortly thereafter and apologized for snagging the gift and returned it. I get that. Problem solved. This morning you asked if you could borrow the gift and I made that happen. Then you were in the living room with two gifts and I had none. I did not take this as a good sign. I am not without resources. I think you intuit that I have a few gifts I haven’t shared with you quite yet. Being passive aggressive is no way to gain entrance to the inner chamber.

And so we conclude on the solemn thought of death. No one wants to talk about the d word. Ignoring death will not forestall it. You may have family members who will take the reins on your passing. I do not. If you have not taken concrete steps to distribute any remainder most anyone can show up in court and stake a claim. My transfer on death deed precludes that. I designate charities and a dear friend in equal shares. If you are intestate on death the state can take it, park it for several years and then dump the proceeds into the general fund and use it to pay four guys to check a manhole cover. It requires attention and persistence and the cooperation of others. The documents are public records so there is no privacy concern. The process isn’t quite complete yet.

Lads update. I find it somewhat difficult to wrap my head around what a mountain of lethargy they are. When I get up at 3 am to take a leak they are watching TV and each is on his phone at the same time. I understand that this is one of those you damn kids get off my lawn moments. Many young people seem to be planning and working. The Lads tell me they are both going to work soon. How their circadian rhythms will deal with actual work is something I don’t need to worry about. I’ve discussed with them the fact that the gravy train is departing. I’d hate to do it but their stuff can be put on the street. No paperwork, no payments from them. Dutch Uncle Moment

best cookie ever?

So simple and crazy good! Use any reliable pecan sandie recipe online (I use Martha Stewart's) and when it calls for a cup of pecans make 50/50 pecans and crispy bacon bits. The dough is coarse and should be hand formed. I always use parchment paper for baking. Baking time is extended because of the additional fat from the bacon. At the 15-20 minute mark keep an eye on them so they firm up without drying out. If you do these things you'll have one of the most amazing cookies you've ever eaten. If you serve them warm someone may expire in ecstasy.

Significant events: a year in review 2015. The death of my sister. I knew this would happen three years ago when I was informed of her original diagnosis with cancer. It closely mimics the death of my mother in 1985. I speculate about a genetic component regarding the X chromosome. Auto immune deficiency isn’t just about AIDS. My manifestation is vitiligo. The new furnace: major adult moment. I spent five NM winters without central heat due to my budget. I would hunker down in the smallest room with an electric heater. With the return of central heating I can use the entire house again during the cold months. The caregiver. Though he comes just once a week he does cleaning, laundry and shopping for me beyond what my stamina allows. He and his family have adopted me and I was privileged to spend Thanksgiving with them. David always brings a little gift when he comes. Going Postal 2015. Dad used to say if you want to get mail send mail. I decided last January to send physical mail to friends. When the box is full of bills and junk mail a card from a friend guarantees a smile. I’m nationwide and in Spain, Tokyo, the UK and the Canary Islands. By sending mail I receive mail. In this case dad was right. This project will continue in 2016. Crafting and cooking. I lump these together. I no longer have a car and don’t drive. I have plenty of leisure time at home. Making small craft projects out of paper and recycled materials. They are temporary manifestations and often don’t last more than a few days before they are sent to a friend or disassembled; a photo remains. Cooking is a great love of mine and when that magic happens it is a pearl of great price. Planning is everything. My pantry is so ready. If a dozen people showed up unexpectedly (not gonna happen) I could feed them. The prep for black-eyed peas with smoked pork hocks, skillet corn bread and mustard greens was a joy. In the New Year I may attempt to make homemade sausage. Face Book. I understand that a number of the youngsters consider FB to be so last Thursday. It’s a gift to me. I get to be in touch with so many people in real time. I have several groups there and it’s like being together in the living room. My Gal Pals. Bachelor Chow. The Hat. The Lads. Though unintended, I ended up inviting two young men to stay here at the Manse for a while. There has been a great deal of young life in the house for the holidays. Even with the problems entailed it has been an awakening and a learning experience. I teach them and they teach me. When we have a movie night and pizza we can go anywhere. I pick one and they pick one and then perhaps a wild card entry. Guardians of the Galaxy turned out to be great. Kindness. Kindness is a magic that actually works. I have been the recipient of great kindnesses and so attempt to give them as well. The Sisters. The Magic Cabbie. Again, My Gal Pals. My remainders. With the death of my sister I was intestate. The arrangements have been made to distribute what meager estate remains when I go to the undiscovered country. Charities. The Masonic Charity fund, the Barrett Foundation for homeless women and children and the Veteran’s Integration Center for homeless vets. I am down for this New Year. I try something. If it works it goes in the book. If not, I try something else next.

Pantry planning yields great rewards. If properly stocked a meal is only a few steps away. Strategic shopping. Buying staples like pasta, soup, beans, cooking oil and fresh garlic and fridge items like a big chunk of cheddar, butter and milk makes the deal go down. I keep a clipboard handy so I can jot something down like I’m out of foil. Then when you need to make a grocery run for fresh ingredients you’re ready. Do you have certain comfort foods? Include them in your planning. Here’s how this happened. Yesterday I put a bag of dried black-eyed peas into a large crock pot, put smoked pork hocks on them, added smashed garlic and a chopped onion, salt and fresh pepper and, for a NM touch, one diced jalapeno pepper. Add two or three bottles of beer. Bring to heat then turn to low and leave it overnight. Next day make your skillet cornbread according to the recipe on the box, reducing or eliminating the amount of sugar called for. Wash a couple bunches of greens (I used mustard greens) and de-stem and chop them. Using a tall pot, add a bit of oil to heat, and then add more smashed garlic to soften and brown. Throw in the greens. Season with pepper and salt, stir to coat then add ¼ - ½ cup broth or beer. Cover and simmer. When tender add a TBS of ground dried mustard. This is my mother and her mother in Arkansas, and the results are real southern home cooking. Have plenty of butter for the cornbread. I had to go for a second bowl.