Albuquerque

"Well, they say that santa fe is less than ninety miles away,
And I got time to roll a number and rent a car.
Oh, albuquerque.
I’ve been flyin’ down the road, and I’ve been starvin’ to be alone,
And independent from the scene that I’ve known.
Albuquerque.
So I’ll stop when I can, find some fried eggs and country ham.
I’ll find somewhere where they don’t care who I am.
Oh, albuquerque,Albuquerque. "
-Neil Young

I'm going to Albuquerque tomorrow morning. If I encounter any aliens, illegal or extraterrestrial, you will be the first to know. And if I die in midair in a fiery ball of flame or spontaneously combust from parental weirdnesses, it's been lovely and pleasant. I will eat some soapapillas in the RW...BS's honor. With honey. And beer.

New Mexico is a weird place.
Both my grandfathers worked on the bomb.

I spent miserable summers in the early 1980s there--living below the poverty line, tormented by an evil stepmother and sleeping in the basement, listening to ambulances and barking dogs and convinced that if the monsters behind the furnace didn't get me, the scary borrachos outside on the sidewalks would. Or that I would simply die of my step's bitchiness and my father's lack of spine. I used to stay up all night reading out of sheer terror. Which is why I can read so fast to this day. And probably why I remember every single book I ever read as a child. Fear does wonders for the memory. We had a swamp cooler. Ever seen one? They're like primitive air conditioners, only all they do is drip water and tantalize you because they sound like air conditioners, and you keep expecting them to give you the blessed relief of air conditioners, but they don't do Shit. I used to get good old New Mexico nosebleeds all the time, too. And the sound of cicadas can still stop my heart.

I hate Albuquerque. Especially in summer.
But then again, it's kind of an amazing city, because it hasn't changed since the 1970s. It's like time tripping to go there. Just as long as I don't have to sleep in the basement.