I get inspired each and every week to do my regular DCF post. There's a certain oomph afforded me when reading the preceding day's post by Johnny Mango. His two part series on the Belen BNSF line and Harvey House were great. Not to mention his numerous posts about adventurous episodes with his grandson...
But then it all goes to hell. I have no finishing power. I probably won't even finish this post. You'll likely kick yourself for having been sucked in. I have written the first and second thirds of some pretty good narratives recently. Last week I got within an hour or so of realizing this abbreviated brilliant tome:
This post has absolutely nothing to do whatsoever with Balloon Fiesta.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
I remember vividly the series of moments whereupon I knew I’d probably never leave Albuquerque. It was a couple of days before Christmas in 1993. It was about 55 degrees out and sunny and I was beside myself with instinctual Joy. Yes, that’s with a capital “J”.
I didn’t own a car, and my mountain bike steed had been sawed in two (long story) so I walked “everywhere” – which in my universe at the time was the general environs of Nob Hill and what later would be slickly referred to as “East Nob Hill”. The act of walking played a huge role in the establishment of this place by the mighty muddy as my home. That December day's walk in 1993 was and still is mythic in my mind- new, fresh, unreal and invigorating. Although it could have been the weed.
I discovered in my first couple of years here that there are practically infinite ways ambulate from roughly the intersection of Marquette and Madison, where I lived, and “the Richmond light” on Central, where I worked (at two different establishments) from 1993 to 1999. There’s “old faithful”- Madison to Grand, across Washington where it curves to Ridgeley and empties out via Morningside, to Copper. Then I’d take a quick jaunt up Copper past Adam’s Table, and hit Central at Carlisle. That route comprised 80% of my trips. Another favorite was to just take Marquette all the way down past Carlisle and wind my way up to Central between one of the colleges.
I would breathe so deeply, it seemed so unlike the air of my first 22 years. That old New England air was heavy and damp, laden with pollen, and frankly, depressing. This New Mexico air was different, crisp, hope-filled.
It would take a few more years before I would experience the pollen blasts that the high desert promulgates. And even those, which have the power to debilitate me especially in March, are fleeting and unencumbering, if unemcumbering were a word. Disencumbering is slightly less cumbersome. Slightly.
But that was it. I couldn't write the next part. The tales of the neighborhood businesses, the camaraderie, the personalities. The French Roast Coffee with Chicory at Fred's. The run-on sentences. The Nob Hill days of yore post number 17 from yours truly never got down the backstretch. I lacked discipline. Again. It's a recurring theme in my life, really.
I can't say no to sweets. I can't keep off of facebook at work. I can't stop listening to Dr. Laura. I am obsessed with the Red Sox. I can't lose weight. I can't bike to work more than once or twice a month. I can't finish the "Honey Do" lists at the homestead. I can't keep my fingers out of my boss' candy bowl at work. And I'm speaking literally there, mind you. I lack the required discipline. I'm about to reward myself for being on the verge of the final edit of this post with the remnants of the Blue Bell Rocky Road ice cream half gallon that lingers in our freezer. I lack so much discipline i'm a probably heap a dollop of Nutella on it and another of natural peanut butter to boot. I probably lack the discipline to forgo the Hershey's chocolate sauce and the whipped cream. I display discipline lacking of astronomical proportions. A galaxian lacking. If "galaxian" were a word apart from a kick ass old school video game.
I almost quit writing right here.
But all hope is not lost. There are some very good things happening these days, things that hardly require discipline to incorporate them into one's life....
Johnny Mango's post
yesterday is a great conscience clearer for those of us alumnae/i of UNM, who may be conflicted with the direction that the university seems to have taken as of late.
Fourth of July Canyon foliage
is at least three weeks behind schedule. I was there this past Sunday and only a small fraction of the Red Maples were... red. This upcoming weekend or next should be great. The Manzano Mountain Retreat apple store
will only be open for one more weekend (Thursday-Sunday 9-5) and they are harvesting the "Arkansas Black" variety
as I type these keystrokes.
I have seen the first two episodes of The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Todd Margaret
(Brought to you by Thunder Muscle). I am a better person for that. Also, I am disciplined in my love for Will Arnett. If only I were Amy Poehler.
My addiction to nostalgic Nob Hill will be soothed by a reunion concert of sorts this Friday night at the Launchpad
. Elephant and Starsky were mainstays of the local rawk scene in the mid-nineties. My Fred's Bread and Bagel employee futurewife, and my Bow Wow Records managing self, attended many a show featuring both of these bands. And now we get to pretend we don't have kids, and that we make it out to shows more than twice a year. SAS
will probably give you a much better preview on late Thursday or Friday. If the stars are aligned, i'll even resurrect my former DJ persona, D.J. Karate, and spin some mad vinyl tracks from yesteryear; The Orb, some early drum & bass, D.J Shadow, and whatever else I can get my hands on that remind me of the good 'ol daze.
It's finally Fall out, with some "60's and 40's" days coming up
in the next week or so.
"The One Ways"
are set to be beautified, up to snuffed, brought to code
on San Mateo still has plenty of green chile available.
I've gone to Loyola's Cactus Flower
for breakfast two of the past three weekends. (Super Burrito, whole beans instead of refried, both chiles (I can't bring myself to say "Christmas"), plus a half order of biscuits and gravy).
The baseball playoffs
are on the radio, broadcast locally on ESPN Radio, 101.7FM
And finally, Duke City Fix looks great, with the new "Street Art"
- inspired banner and redesigned home page. I am really digging the new "Top Content" feed in the top left.
Dare I ask?- In which aspects of your life are you finding a lack of discipline?