The Spirit of Jean Lafitte ... only drier.

After having lived in Louisiana for six years, I make my appearance once again in the desert Southwest.  On Halloween night, 2002, I pulled into Albuquerque, New Mexico and this city has been my home ever since.  I was forced to leave Louisiana due to joblessness; my unemployment was running out and my long-time friend, Gil (who was living here), suggested that I come to New Mexico to try and change my fortune.  It was a wise move, for now I have one of the best jobs I've ever had.

However, my warming up to New Mexico took a little time--a number of months.  I had fallen in love with Louisiana--and especially New Orleans.  But, my sojourn to Louisiana was only meant to be an Initiation experience; to transform into a new and different person.  Once this change occurred, it was time to leave.  Conditions set about to make that happen. 

I hated Albuquerque and New Mexico at first; I kept dreaming up plans to either move back to Louisiana at the first opportunity, or move to Santa Cruz, CA, or even Portland, OR.  I was born in Oregon, and I love it there--and so, I thought it might be an appropriate place to finish out the last half of my life.  But, as I kept making these plans, I knew that I really wasn't giving New Mexico a chance; the Apostle Paul in the New Testament writes about being content wherever he found himself--I knew that this kind of attitude was really the wisest; so, I began looking for things to appreciate in Albuquerque and New Mexico, in general--and as I opened my eyes and quit complaining, I began to discover them!

For one thing, the weather is a good reason to want to live here; the weather is as wonderful as any place that I've ever been!  It never gets too hot--the air is usually nice and dry--there are four seasons--and we get some snow, but not too much during the Winter.  I must admit that the humidity in Louisiana was beginning to get to me; the humidity would cause you to sweat after only being outside for a couple of minutes; it was like a warm, wet blanket wrapping you up.  I lived on the Gulf Coast and so it was exceptionally bad.  At first, I enjoyed it--but eventually it got to me.  But, I told myself that it was part of the ambiance of living in the deep South; and it is true--experiencing the humidity and things of southern Louisiana along the Gulf Coast was a true adventure and experience; there were things that you won't find in Western states like California where I had lived most of life.  The food was wonderful--Cajun and Creole; alligators lived in the wild and one would see them driving through the swamps; there were even alligator crossings (yellow caution signs with the silhouette of an alligator).  the swamps were something that I loved to see; the cypress trees and the spanish moss; and the bayous--they were awesome!  Early explorers called the bayou's "dead streams".  And the things you could find in the bayous!  Blue crabs, crawfish, and alligator gars among the denizens.  I would watch young boys crabbing--putting a piece of cheese or meat on a string and dipping it in the water; blue crabs would clutch the food and the boys would pull the crab out of the water; the crab was too stupid to let go.  What awesome memories I have! 

There are no bayous or blue crabs or alligators or hurricanes (for that matter!) in New Mexico; it's quite a cultural difference--but then again, maybe it isn't!  The hispanic culture loves spicy foods, and there are quite a few cajun restaurants in town (more than I would have thought!).  And I would think that Mardi Gras would go over big here, especially since some Latin countries in South America celebrate it.  Some small New Mexico communities do celebrate Mardi Gras, sporting parades and having balls (Red River is one).  I suggested to the Mayor of Albuquerque (Martin Chavez) that Albuquerque should officially celebrate Mardi Gras (in the downtown district, some of the clubs do have Mardi Gras parties); I felt having full-blown parades down Central Ave in downtown, and maybe one on San Mateo (a major north-south thoroughfare) would be an exciting idea!  But, the Mayor said that Mardi Gras brought along with it elements that weren't good for Albuquerque (I'm sure he meant the drunken carousing and women flashing their breasts, etc.).  I have taken note of one thing since being here:  New Mexico is more conservative than I expected; the West is renown for having liberal attitudes, but the Land of Enchantment does have its limits.

 

As I continue to work on this page, please come visit at my other pages:  High Desert Pirate's Desert Philosopher:

http://geocities.com/jay_barrymore

 

 

            

 

Old Town is not the French Quarter

Here in New Mexico, I live near five small volcanoes that erupted 150,000 years ago; they are part of the Petroglyph National Monument.  Trails take you all around the cones and up to the tops.  Fortunately, most of the Monument is cost-free.  The volcano trails and those in Rinconada Canyon (where pictures of me standing next to petroglyphs were taken) are all free.  The trails of Boca Negra Canyon, if accessed through the main parking area, require a $3 fee; however, one can hike the trails from other entrances without having to pay. 

There is a beautiful overlook of Albuquerque between the first two volcanoes, named JA and Black.  The park has set up a shaded bench to sit and enjoy the view.  As one looks out over the city, a majestic view of the Sandia (watermelon) and Manzano (apple) Mountains resides as a close backdrop.  I hike the volcanoes often.  For me, they represent the origin of life.  I remember reading H.P. Blavatasky writing the same thing--that life on the surface of our planet developed from within erupting volcanoes.  Native Americans see volcanoes as entrances to the Otherworld. 

As one takes in the view, off to the left and slightly occulted by the Sandias are the Sangre de Cristo (Blood of Christ) Mountains; Santa Fe is nestled in their foothills.  Santa Fe, called the "City Different", is probably the most liberal town in the state; it is seen as an artist's mecca, as well as being the state capitol.  Much of Santa Fe is disappointing; it is a sprawling, generic metropolis for the most part.  It's only when one gets near the Old Plaza is when the ambiance of Santa Fe beings to impact you.  The Old Plaza is very nice--but compared to the French Quarter, it pales miserably.  My son's girlfriend once said that she thought Santa Fe was the most beautiful city she had ever seen.  I responded that she hadn't seen New Orleans yet.  Once having tasted New Orleans, it's difficult to not make comparisons to other locales.  The only city (that I have been to) that compares with New Orleans is San Francisco. 

Albuquerque has an old plaza too:  Old Town.  Like the Vieux Carre, Old Town was once the original city.  Again, compared to the French Quarter, it's nothing; but I'd rather take it than leave it!  Old Town is only several blocks long and wide (as is Santa Fe's Old Plaza), but, it does have a nice ambiance to it.  I've enjoyed meals in several of the restaurants house in hundred-year old (and older) buildings.

The one complaint that I make about the Old Plaza and Old Town is that both close up fairly early after sunset; that's a real shame, in my opinion.  I would think that shops and restaurants, for the sake of tourism and the locals, would stay open to much later (especially on the weekends).  There is only one bar/nightclub in Old Town and it's located on it's extreme northern edge; the reason for this is San Filipe de Neri Church located in the heart of the plaza:  Law restricts the close proximity of establishments which serve alcohol to churches (one will find such laws most everywhere).  I think such laws should be changed--especially the one in Massachusetts that prevents one from owning an elephant!  Isn't this America?  If a few nightclubs were able to open up in Old Town, the place, I'm sure, would blossom.  The same could be said about Santa Fe's Old Plaza.

I'm not against partying to any degree; when I drink, I drink to get drunk.  But, I do not get drunk that often.  I suppose that this is my version of "do everything in moderation".  Rather than drink a little every day, I drink nothing for months and then drink a lot.  Isn't this the spirit of Mardi Gras?  Or is it the spirit of Landru?

I don't like to get drunk in public, but one of the few exceptions occurred in the French Quarter.  During September, 2000, while enjoying a solid week of "feel good" dry air permeating Louisiana, Gil and I converged onto Bourbon Street and became drunken carousers that would have shamed Marty Chavez to no end!  We started at the Tricou House (my favorite bar and restaurant in the French Quarter, haunted by Penelope) and by the time we got to within a block of Canal Street, we were totally doo-doo-faced; I don't see how I was able to walk.  Once we got to the end of the street, we turned around and went back up it.  Our drunken debacle finally ended at Lafitte's.  We repeated this scenario again in September 2002 (though the humidity didn't cooperate this time); on this outing, we had my ex-wife, Melinda, along for company.  There was a lot of activity on Bourbon Street that night; a lot of women were flashing their breasts.  I vaguely remember Melinda pausing to consider whether she would flash or not, but despite my encouragement, she refrained.  That was the night that we had planned to end at the Dungeon--a renowned haunt on Toulouse Street frequented by New Orlean's vampires; but I was such a drunken fool that I embarrassed Melinda at the entrance and we missed out on the blood-suckers; that was the end of the night.  I was very tired anyway, and that's when I discovered that the Quarter has very few benches to sit on.  I eventually found one on a more quiet street, and didn't want to move.

Albuquerque does have a party-zone:  It's Central Ave in downtown.  The authorities close down the street on Friday and Saturday night for pedestrians only (just like the Quarter does every night) and people can frequent the numerous nightclubs in the vicinity.  I have yet to do this, though I have threatened to do so a time or two; I've thought about getting smashed on a Friday night and then stumbling my way to a room in a nearby hotel to spend the night.  A good time to do this might be during the Spring or Fall Crawl--an event where numerous bands perform on stages throughout downtown, and in the nightclubs themselves.