Santa Fe - Diedre's Birthday Week - Day 137-143 of 178 Day Trek

Travel days are an interesting phenomenon for the intrepid duo.  I do all the driving, usually about 300 miles or 5-6 hours on the road.  That's my job, along with taking out the garbage and seeing what's on TV.  Diedre does the cooking, cleaning, litter-box duty, makes the bed, and about a thousand other things.  Yet somehow, she thinks I've got the more difficult job.  (Please don't let on to her and ruin the good thing I've got going).  So with all the hard "work" I do on driving days, she's decided that as a reward, I get to choose where we eat that night and what kind of food it will be.  Travel days dictate we eat out, because once we drive, set up camp, feed the cats (there's about 11 of them ... what's that, dear? ... oh, I guess there are only three ... my bad) and then clean up, there's no way either of us (read: Diedre) wants to cook.  So poor little old me has to choose the restaurant, which is virtually always some dive serving pizza, a food that's not great for my delicate diet, but if the crust is thin enough, I get by.
     And that's the way we do things here at Air Barty One.  Pretty good deal for me, huh?
     Wednesday, September 18, was just such a travel day to the beautiful town of Santa Fe, New Mexico.  We ate downtown at Rooftop Pizza, an excellent Italian restaurant with a marvelous view looking down on the city.  SCORE!!

     Santa Fe is the oldest capitol city in the U.S. at 403 years; the central Plaza and the Palace of the Governors were both built in 1610.  To give you an idea of its age, that's even older than some of the guys on my senior softball team.  (BA-DUM-BUMP!)  Its population is about 65,000, making this capitol the best of small towns for accessibility and things to do.  You can walk absolutely everywhere in town without aggravating your corns.
     We have some history with Santa Fe.  Besides our ill-fated RV-rental trip last year with Diedre's mom, we also once spent Thanxxgiving there with friends Fudd, Bugs, Tommy C., Ma, and Ma's two kids, one of whom turned out to be her husband.  And we were there once again on the fortuitous date of July 7, 2007 (7/7/07) for the wedding of Fudd (she, a beautiful lady artist) and Bugs (he, a very patient, understanding man).  The rehearsal dinner the previous night is legendary for Ms. Diedre Kaye's costume malfunction.  It's a little too embarrassing for this blog (Is that even possible?!), so you'll have to ask her about it the next time you see her in person and she's had a few drinks.
     The next day was one of rest, relaxation, laundry (actually one of the few jobs for which I'm responsible), and general RV repair.  Now, don't go getting any pictures in your dusty little brain of me in my best Mr. Goodwrench overalls overhauling the transmission or smelting the carburetor (Is that even a thing?)  I do best at more menial jobs such as emptying the ash trays of gum wrappers, checking the Johnson Rod,  or even seeing if we need more headlight fluid.  I am also hell-on-wheels at changing light bulbs.  Being 6'4" qualifies me for that onerous duty.
     Saturday was our big day in town.  We started off by visiting their wonderful farmers' market.  This market was different than all the rest we've been to in that they actually offered ... farmers' produce!  Amazing, huh?  No crafts, no kettle corn tents, no banks trying to sell you on a new Visa card.  Just fruit, veggies, eggs, and meats.  What a novel idea.  We also met the market's manager, Paolo, who just happens to be the nephew of our Boulder cousins, Doug and Christie.  A nice young man who, after college, thought he'd try Santa Fe for six months, then got this great job running a year-round farmers' market and, before he knew it, he had been there three years and is still enjoying it.  What a great young man.
     From there, it was on to the Fenn Art Gallery.  Readers of my book ("The Fastest Gun in Hollywood: The Life Story of Peter Brown" for those of you who may have missed the one or two or 47 times I've mentioned it in this furshlugginer blog) will recall that on page 145, Peter was married at the Fenn Gallery 30 years ago.  For those of you keeping score, it was wife #4.  The gallery has a remarkable backyard garden where Peter and Mary were going to be married (a cold spell drove the wedding party indoors to the spacious art gallery).  The garden area has a pond and  quite a few trees.  But its main attraction is the location of massive bronze statues everywhere.  It's really quite enchanting.

     Art isn't really my thing, although I am into velvet Elvis paintings and any medium that portrays dogs playing poker.  But I was amazed by the statues populating this overgrown backyard.  And there, across the pond, I spotted most likely the single greatest bronze statue I have ever seen: it was four kids trying to rescue a kitten from the top of a tree.  From my vantage point on the other side of the pond, I was sure the bronze kids were situated against the backdrop of a real tree.  It was only when I got closer that I found out the tree was ALSO entirely bronze, right down to the small branches and leaves.  WOWZER!!  Check out the photo and see if you can tell which kid is me (Hint: I'm the one with raspberry jam on my face.)
          **Important addendum: that bronze is only $360,000 if you're interested ... and if you are, you don't sound like the type of person who would waste his or her time reading this drivel.**
     While DK then took some time at the library to work on our book (the one she's writing, not the one I'm coloring), I wandered the plaza-area downtown.  I know I said I wasn't into art, but I had to stop at the Chuck Jones Gallery.  The man's a genius, his paint strokes so bold, his depth at getting the inner character of what he's trying to say conveyed to the viewer by the most abstract of means.  Oh, to clarify ... Chuck is the guy who drew Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck , and the Road Runner.  My inner child, who's not too far from the surface, went absolutely wild.
     

After a fine burger dinner at something called "Santa Fe Bite," we made our way up to the Santa Fe Performing Arts site to see the play "Good People."  We can't always be going to a ballpark, so on this night, I threw Diedre Kaye a bone.  The show had excellent actors, the story was pretty good, but the support departments of the theatre left a bit to be desired, especially with the theatre-sheriff sitting at my side taking actual notes on her Etch-A-Sketch.  The sets and costumes were both a bit shaky, and the scene changes were interminable.  That plus the fact that there were only 17 of us audience-members in an auditorium that seats 300 on a Saturday night, well, it had to be disappointing for those most capable actors.  In general, we enjoyed it.  After all, it's "theatre!"
     Desperate for another day of rest (No eye-rolling, please) we sat back on Sunday and had a good old-fashioned family cookout.  Our guest was the aforementioned Tommy C., more properly known as Tom Costello.  Tom's father, Red Costello, was Diedre's god-father; he was such a nice man.  So is Tom, who is a lifelong friend of Diedre's family, going back to racing tricycles with Diedre's older brother Doug in the family's small kitchen in Richfield in the late 1940's.  I think Tom and Doug were in college at the time ... whatever.  Tom has graduated from riding tricycles to becoming a nationally ranked bridge player (I'm just guessing on that last one; I have no idea how to play bridge, my game being "43-Man Squamish.")  It was a lovely dinner, just getting done before the rains came.  The only problem with Tom is that he ends every utterance by asking, "So, who's on first?"  (That's for you Abbott and Costello fans out there.)
     Monday, September 23, was a day that will live in infamy --- it was my bride's birthday!  I woke her up by singing a gentle little love ballad by the Beatles.  The neighbors immediately called and asked if we were shaving the cat.  Hey, I never said I was a great singer.  So sue me.
     See if you can guess how old DK is based on the following cryptic lyrics from that song:
          "Will you still need me?
               Will you still Feed me?
                    When I'm __-__ "
     We'll give you a little "Final Jeopardy" thinking music to build suspense.
     OK, enough with the tomfoolery.  She's 41 ... right, dear?
     

For her birthday, we took a long awaited return trip to Taos, mainly to view the Taos Pueblo.  Fifteen years ago, we made the same trip, only to find out after an hour-and-a-half drive that the Pueblo was closed.  This time we called ahead.  Fool us once, shame on you; fool us twice, well, you'd be like everybody else, I suppose.
     There are two ways to get to Taos from Santa Fe: the high road, long but scenic, or the low road, not so scenic but much faster.  We opted for the high road going and the low road returning.  It was the right decision.  So, we took the high road and everyone else took the low road and they were all in Taos before us.

     The Taos Pueblo, a native American community for over 1,000 years, was a bit of a disappointment.  The AAA book said the charge would be $10/person with a $6 camera fee.  I suppose since everyone now has a camera-phone, the locals gave up trying to enforce the camera fee and instead just charged everyone $16.  I got screwed there, since I don't have a camera and the only cell-phone I use is an old one that runs on gasoline.  The only thing worth having its picture taken was Hlaauma (North House), a millennium old structure that looks like an apartment building covered in adobe.  The rest of the Pueblo was either tourist shops or else was restricted to tourists.  It's a living community, so I suppose it would be weird to have people walking through your living room on a daily basis.  But hey, they get their $16 a person, so that's got to be worth something.  OK, maybe I'm being too hard on the old Pueblo.  Moving on.
     In downtown Taos, I found the old cemetery where Kit Carson and  his family are buried.  I mainly remember Kit from the old "Kit Carson" TV show I used to watch on Saturday mornings when I was a kid.  But there was a lot more to him than I remember from that show; he was a scout, a soldier, then later a lieutenant in the Union army in New Mexico during the Civil war, a trapper, and a well-respected Indian agent.  Kit was also hired as a guide for a major exploratory expedition into the Rockies, thus playing a major role in opening the west all the way to the Pacific.  He was a skilled horseman and hunter.  He was well known as a fearless traveler in Indian country, probably much like me when I make my daring and reckless journey to Apache Junction for softball games.  At times a politician, he played a large role in California's independence after the war with Mexico.  In his spare time (spare time?), he also managed a ranch east of Taos.  I'm not positive, but I think his hobbies including knitting and macrame.  All this, yet he only lived to be 59.  I think his death was some sort of bizarre macrame explosion.
     

Here's Diedre at the 400 year old plaza in Taos with her snazzy new cowboy hat.  Annie Oakley's got nothing on Ms. Kaye.  400 years. eh?  I'm sure it's always a battle between Taos and Santa Fe as to who is older, much like I used to brag to the neighborhood kids that my mom was older than their moms.  Funny ... Mom never seemed to think too highly of my bragging on her.
     At last count, Diedre's birthday haul, besides the swell new hat, included nearly 100 e-mail birthday greetings.  Gee.  On my birthday, I got one crank phone call and an email from the King of Nigeria offering me a million dollars to use my checking account for the transfer of some royal funds.  You may laugh, but that money is going to be a good investment for our future.
     For her birthday dinner, Diedre chose the El Paragua Restaurant in Espanola, NM, a little town between Santa Fe and Taos.  Back before starting on our Ulysses-like odyssey, I had e-mailed all friends and relatives asking for unique places to see or try.  Our cousin Jan Price suggested El Paragua, a quaint little Mexican bistro with great architecture and a long culinary history of almost 60 years.  Husband John Price added that he would crawl on his knees to eat at El Paragua.  After a wonderful meal (I had the fajitas while the birthday girl had chili rellenos), we felt it was as good if not better than any Mexican place we had ever tried.  And I'd have to agree with John ... I, too, WOULD crawl there on John's knees to eat at El Paragua.

     In a continuation of the birthday that would not end, Diedre took her birthday check from her two moms on Tuesday and splurged on a SPA day, going with a cream-cheese and asparagus facial, a mani-pedi complete with nose and ear hair trim, and a full-body massage by scantily-clad Nubian warriors.  Meanwhile, I was back at camp working on an especially tough hangnail.
     Later that night, the birthday and our time in beautiful Santa Fe came to a close with Birthday Dinner-Part 2.  We met up with Tom Abbott ... uh, I mean "Costello," and had Diedre's favorite meal, sushi.  I have to admit that it was awfully good, especially the sashimi dolphin with bald eagle stuffing (Kidding).
   

 On Wednesday, September 25, we left New Mexico to make our way to Montrose, Colorado.  Note that on this trip, gasoline was $2.99/gallon in New Mexico; the cheapest the Genie could find us in Colorado was $3.59/gallon.  I did the math, using all ten fingers and several very angry toes.  Sixty-cents a gallon has a big impact on your wallet when your RV tank holds 80 gallons, so we filled up in New Mexico--we're not total idiots, contrary to what you might believe after reading this blog.
    Up next: four days each at Montrose, Colorado, and Torrey, Utah.
     See you then.