This week, twenty years ago, I was packing up my house in Atlanta and loading it into a UHaul for the long trip to Albuquerque. Seven years earlier I had told New Mexico to kiss my ass, I'm outta hear. Obviously, I was wrong.
To living here:
I loved Atlanta. It had cultural diversity, tons of activities and events. Professional sports (The Hawks don't count). We lived in a little house on a huge lot. There was a stream running at the bottom of the lot. We had a huge party deck. Life was good.
There were over 50 public golf courses in Atlanta. I loved getting up early and heading heading off to play a round. It was the best.
I didn't want to leave. I won't go into the details of why I left. But, next time I get married, I'm going to check is the umbilical cord is still attached to my bride.
The truck was packed up by the late afternoon and off we went. My son was strapped next to me in his car seat. He had his trucker hat on and a sippy cup. I couldn't have asked for a better copilot.
Two and a half days later, we arrived. I went from living here:
To living here:
I had moved to Bedrock.
To add to my happiness, I found out that the apartment my wife rented was around the corner from her parents' house. I had gone from living 2000 miles away from my in laws to living 2 blocks away. This presented an entirely new set of problems. My wife's family shares everything with each other. My family considers talking about the weather an invasion of privacy. It was a couple years before they figured out I wasn't going to share my salary, what I paid for my house, or whether I want ranch dressing on my salad.
That was alright. There was always golf. But I soon found out that golf courses in New Mexico are not nearly as nice as Georgia.
Once again I had a culture shock. I went from this:
To this:
I did feel like a much better about my game. Going from 1037 feet above sea level to 5000 feet makes a guy feel powerful. But, playing with the goats and jackrabbits grows old quick.
I decided to tour Route 66. The Mother Road. America's Main Street. The Will Rogers Highway. I emerge myself in a little Americana. I always remembered the photo of the road from when I was a kid.
Of course, when I went down there, I got this.
Tattoo shops, fiberglass statues and urban blight.
Business was booming, though. If you want some meth, a hooker or someone killed cheap. This is the place to go.
New Mexico does have it's high points. Number 1 in poverty level.
We're near the bottom in education; the very bottom on vocabulary scores. We rank near the top on DWIs and Crime Rates, also. Thank goodness for Mississippi and Louisiana, without them, we would be at the bottom of almost every list.
Twenty years ago, I lived in a city that looked like this
Today, I live up the street from this:
I've gone from the prom queen to her second cousin who "has a real nice personality."
I think think it's time for me to say,
Kiss my ass New Mexico! I'm outta here!
Of course, when I went down there, I got this.
Tattoo shops, fiberglass statues and urban blight.
Business was booming, though. If you want some meth, a hooker or someone killed cheap. This is the place to go.
New Mexico does have it's high points. Number 1 in poverty level.
We're near the bottom in education; the very bottom on vocabulary scores. We rank near the top on DWIs and Crime Rates, also. Thank goodness for Mississippi and Louisiana, without them, we would be at the bottom of almost every list.
Twenty years ago, I lived in a city that looked like this
Today, I live up the street from this:
I've gone from the prom queen to her second cousin who "has a real nice personality."
I think think it's time for me to say,
Kiss my ass New Mexico! I'm outta here!
