Free Car Wash an Answer to Low Voter Turnout?

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section 10/30/10

"You better not be voting for her," said my 12-year-old daughter after watching the latest scathing political commercial on television. She warned me with such conviction, as if she had read every interview, watched every debate and attended every rally of that particular candidate.

"Why not?" I asked. Why did I even ask? She's 12 and the only thing she knows is what the latest ads tell her and how much a Sham Wow costs. "Just wait for her competitor's commercial, honey; she'll make the other one look just as bad," I told her.

Have you decided who you're voting for? Do the commercials sway you in any way? I already know who I'm voting for; the ads don't sway me. No, I don't vote a straight ticket like I used to, but I made up my mind back in the primary. Still, I know there are some people who wait until they get into that almighty booth to make a decision. Those people bug me.

It's been election season for a long time now (Calgon, take me away). Is it me or are there more postcards in my mailbox, commercials on the TV and radio, and more signs in the yards than ever before?

If that isn't annoying enough, the telemarketers have to call to find out which way you are leaning: red or blue? Did you vote yet? Do you plan to vote? If so, then for whom are you going to vote? The calls seem to only apply to land lines. I ditched my land line last year so at least for now, I'm safe. I'm sure by the next presidential election we'll be getting hounded on our cell phones.

Think about this: With all of the canvassing, hand-shaking, signs, stickers and tag lines, voter turnout remains dismal. We need to make voting day more of a celebration, more significant than just scoring a small oval sticker.

I have voted in every major election since I was old enough to vote. It's in my blood, and I think that's where it starts. If your parents instilled the importance of voting in you, chances are you are more likely to carry that with you in every election thereafter. Teach your children well, my friends.

But for those out there who are apathetic about voting, it just might take some incentives to get you to punch that chad in the voting booth on the Tuesday after the first Monday in November.

If we really want to turn the table on low voter turnout, we need to make election day more of a public celebration, not less. How about a free car wash when you vote? I could use that right about now. Or the city could waive your water bill for a month if you show the clerk your "I Voted" sticker. The small red, white and blue "I Voted" sticker is good enough for me; I'll wear it proudly all day and then stick it on the roof of my car until it falls off. Vote on Tuesday, my fellow New Mexicans.

Quote of the Week: "Bad politicians are sent to Washington by good people who don't vote." — William E. Simon, 63rd U.S. secretary of the Treasury

Parents, Get Creative With Kids' Games

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section, Saturday, October 16, 2010

This tradition started a long time ago, when my brother and sister and I were out for dinner with our relatives in Florida on Easter vacation. How do you pass the time with children when you are waiting for the food to arrive and kids can't think of anything but the French fries they just ordered? As loving parents, we play games to get their minds off of their grumbling stomachs.

Parents get creative when it comes to entertaining their kids, hoping to ward off their hunger and those pesky ants in the pants they seem to suffer from before a restaurant meal is put in front of them. Some parents build forts with the sugar packets on the table. Some restaurants have the children's menus printed on coloring pages and hand out packs of crayons. I Spy is always a favorite for the very young.

My daughters and I went to Dion's the other night and while waiting for our food, my youngest suggested we play Geography, our traditional game to pass the time. This was met with groans and was quickly dismissed to talk about more current topics, such as bone fractures and treatments that my eldest is learning in her sports medicine class. Whatever works is fine by me. Geography has been a table tradition in my family since my days in Florida, and one I fear we may be outgrowing.

To play Geography, the first person names a city, state, country or continent. The next person has to name a city state, country or continent beginning with the letter that the previous word ended in. For example, the first person says New Mexico. An "o" to the next person, who could say Oklahoma. An "a" to the next person, who could say Anchorage. An "e" to the next person, who could say Egypt. And so on.

Car trips call for different games for some reason, like the license plate game. Try to spot an out of state license plate; the one who spots one furthest from home wins. Hawaii plates are triple score.

Then there is the challenging game called Just Questions. You haven't heard of that one? Would you like to know how to play? Are you a witty person? Can you keep a conversation going by only asking questions of the other person? How long do you think you could go without drawing a blank? Who would think a game like this would be so fun?

We have a game going on in our home right now. Somehow the three gnomes from the backyard got inside and are turning up in the most unexpected places. No one is claiming to move them; therefore the 12-inch inanimate objects must be moving around the house themselves. Gnomes do have that sneaky reputation, but I got the last laugh when two of the gnomes went to school in the backpacks the other day and weren't discovered until first period, at least. Nothing says I love you like a three-pound garden gnome stuffed inside your already heavy backpack.

Quote of the Week: "In every real man a child is hidden that wants to play." — Friedrich Nietzsche, philosopher.

Rail Runner the Restful Way to Santa Fe

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section 10/9/10

Last weekend I did something I've never done before. Something touristy, and with some trepidation since our little town has multiplied exponentially now that the balloon fiesta is in full swing. No, I didn't hit the Rio Grande Arts and Crafts Fair, or make it down to the field for the mass ascension. My 12-year-old daughter and I embarked on a Saturday afternoon adventure New Mexico style: We took the Rail Runner to Santa Fe.


Now, I will admit in this column over the years when describing things I have been accused of getting charmingly descriptive and even been being told that I "watch too much of the Travel Channel." All I can say to that is, sit back and enjoy the ride again today.

After checking the train schedule online, we read it wrong and ended up at the Sandoval County/US550 station in Bernalillo one hour early. No problem, it gave us time to run across the street to McDonald's.

As the train's arrival time got closer, the crowd grew and I began to wonder if my daughter and I would even get a seat together, knowing for certain that everyone from the balloon park had the same idea we had and was already sitting comfortably on the upper level enjoying the view. The doors opened, and we all pushed our way in to get the best seat, as visions of the Space Mountain ride at Disneyland flashed through my head.

Doors close, and we were northbound on our one-hour trip up I-25 to our capital to do some weekend shopping and ice cream eating.

Riding the train is another one of those great people-watching activities, and since the seats face each other, the friendship factor is rather high. We happened to be in a car with what felt like one big happy family. The quiet newlyweds sat across from us, the four little girl cousins sat in the seats directly to my right, looking anxious, eager and ready to get off at every stop. Grandpa sat behind me, quietly taking his seat like he had done this a thousand times before. And Grandma sat at the opposite end of the car, never tiring of telling us all just how bad a workweek she had. I hope her boss gets the boot after making Grandma's life so miserable with his lies and smirks and unfair favoritism he is showing toward Juanita.

We relaxed and watched the countryside go by as we pulled into three stops along the way. Wild horses, cows and sagebrush dotted the scenery, and all I could wonder was, where was the bar car, I could use a spritzer right about now.

Upon arrival at the Santa Fe depot, our train tickets got us a free two-minute shuttle bus ride into the plaza and there we were. No driving around to find a parking place. No dodging tourists with shopping bags. And no parking fees. We hit our favorite shops first, then some new ones until we found the perfect birthday gift for my pen pal back in Michigan, a good luck three-legged pig from Chile.

We caught the shuttle back to the depot and waited with the crowd for the southbound train. The skies were threatening, and the rain began to fall just as we took our seats on the upper level and pulled out of the station. People were quieter on this leg of the journey, some spoke softly; some admired their purchases, and others simply slept.

After a day of walking, laughing, eating and shopping, relaxing on the Rail Runner beats driving, parking and getting lost any day.

Quote of the Week: "The traveler sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he has come to see." — G.K. Chesterton, writer.

Corrales the Place To Be Next Weekend

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section September 18, 2010

CHF Official Poster
by Barbara Clark

You know it's fall when ... the evenings are cooler, the chiles are a roastin', and the Corrales Harvest Festival is a happenin'. It's the biggest little festival of the fall, and its right here in our own backyard.

Next weekend is the 25th anniversary of the Corrales Harvest Festival and according to Chip Babb, the festival director, it is slated to be the best one they have ever put together.

"The pet parade on Saturday morning is one of our most popular draws," said Babb. "We are expecting over 200 entries this year: dogs, cats, horses, llamas, even guinea pigs. The pet parade committee has worked really hard this year and was able to get a lot of sponsors, making the winning even better. Nicole Brady, news anchor at Channel 4, will be leading the herd down Corrales Road as this year's grand marshal."

There is still time to enter, just decorate your pet and show up at the Rancho de Corrales Event Center next Saturday morning at 8.

Right after the pet parade, head on over to the Topform Arena for the Horse Extravaganza from 11 a.m.-1 p.m. A variety of horses will demonstrate and show off their unique qualities: Andalusians, Appaloosas, Arabians, Dutch warmbloods, Haflingers, minis, Morgans, mules, mustangs, paints, paso finos, quarter horses, Rocky Mountain horses and Tennessee walkers. It's what Corrales does best.

Phil, Grif, Glenn and the boys will be hauling festivalgoers on their hay wagons between the Recreation Center and Casa San Ysidro Museum near the Old Church throughout the whole weekend. A definite must at the festival, a tractor ride is the only way to get around.

My favorite part of the festival has to be the arts and crafts fair. Located in La Entrada Park, this year there will be more than 60 local and regional artists and craftsmen displaying and selling their art and jewelry. Remember, Christmas isn't that far off. But before you go in, be sure to get your official festival poster, a beautiful watercolor painting of a signature Corrales scene by Corrales artist Barbara Clark. Her other entry, a colorful watercolor of a tractor on a tree-lined road, was chosen for the festival T-shirts.

Runners, don't miss the Corrida de Corrales, a 5K or 10K run Sunday morning. If you haven't walked among the giant cottonwoods in Corrales, you don't know what you are missing. A run through the flat, shady, dirt trails along the tree-lined acequia in the heart of beautiful Corrales is a must. I may skip the Reeboks and put on my moccasins, grab a latte and enjoy a laid-back morning stroll. Walkers are welcome too, you know.

After your run, what better than a Chef Jim White breakfast burrito at the Corrales Growers Market? Stop by the grassy field by the Rec Center and get some homegrown fresh greens, vegetables, herbs and fruits, as well as flowers, honey, jams, baked goods and salsas.

The village is the place to be next weekend. Hop aboard the Corrales Rapid Transit, aka a John Deere tractor, and make your way to La Entrada Park for the funnel cakes, brats and burritos. Do some shopping and enjoy the beautiful fall weather in shady Corrales.

Quote of the Week: "You love this town. You've been all over. And it's been all over you. It's a beautiful day. Don't let it get away. It's a beautiful day." — "Beautiful Day" by U2.

Alarming Video Offers Crash Course in Cruises

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section September 11, 2010

There is a viral video that has surfaced on the Internet this past week showing the inside of a Pacific Sun cruise ship as it hits extremely rough waters. The Australian cruise ship was hit with huge waves about 400 miles off the coast of New Zealand in July 2008, and if any of you have ever been on a cruise, you're aware that these things can happen from time to time. This particular video, I have to believe, is of a rare and extreme case. And if you have a tendency to get queasy on the high seas, this video just might do it to you on solid ground.

At first the expressions on the faces of the passengers and crew are that of amusement, obviously because they think it's just typical turbulence at sea. But very soon, not only forks, knives, spoons and plates are flying across the room, but tables, chairs, food carts and bodies; it's like watching a tennis match in slow motion.

The video is amusing until one woman is seen hitting her head on a pillar and collapsing. Reports indicated passengers suffered broken ribs and limbs, a fractured pelvis and cuts. Many of the worst injuries occurred when gambling machines crashed on top of people. The ship, on the other hand, was not badly damaged.

My 12-year-old daughter saw the video and asked, "Can boats really do that?"

"Yes," I snapped. "Haven't you see 'The Poseidon Adventure?'" Flashbacks of Shelley Winters and Gene Hackman filled my head as I remembered the 1972 movie and the S.S. Poseidon capsizing under a 90-foot tidal wave.

All I got was a blank stare and a "What are you talking about?"

I've been on two cruises — three if you count a three-hour whale-watching tour off the coast of Maui. People did get seasick on that one, as I recall.

My first real cruise was the southbound inside passage along the Alaskan coast. Cruising close to shore kept the waters just as I like them: calm. My only worry was that a glacier might break apart in Glacier Bay and possibly create one big ripple. That I could handle.

My second cruise was along the Mexican coast from Long Beach, Calif., down to Mazatlan, Mexico and back. For the most part, we stayed close to shore, venturing out into the ocean only one day, where the waves were a little rougher but nothing like the Pacific Sun video.

What amazes me is the fact that videos like these can be seen around the world by everyone now. Only a few years ago our kids wouldn't have known the force of Mother Nature and that a cruise ship and its passengers have the capability of rocking so violently. Take that, Sponge Bob Square Pants.

Quote of the Week: "Joe, what the hell's going on down there? Is there nothing more you can do with those stabilizers?" — Captain Harrison, "The Poseidon Adventure"

So Many Colors, But So Few Rooms

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section 9/4/10

Hello? Is anyone still in town this Labor Day weekend? Those of us who didn't get away for the last hurrah of the summer are staying home and catching up on work around the house, am I right? Fix the leaky shower, paint the trim or re-grout the kitchen floor.

In my house this weekend, that means painting. I have been contemplating painting the white walls of my house ever since last September when I moved in.

The cornflower-blue carpet in this house has thrown me for a loop, and although I wouldn't have chosen the color myself, it is growing on me. But as far as choosing a paint color to complement blue carpet, I still have that deer-in-the-headlights look on my face when I try to make a decision and "pick one already." This explains the hundreds of paint sample cards in my drawer that I just stare at, tape to my walls at various light angles and accumulate more with each trip to Lowe's.

It's the fear of picking a color that is too boring or too "what-were-you-thinking?" that keeps me from confidently walking up to the paint counter, sample card in hand and asking for 2 gallons of Mexican Moonlight in an eggshell finish.

I used the red rocks of Jemez as inspiration for my bedroom paint color, or so I like to think, depending on the hour. I vacillate between a rich burnt orange color like Ripe Tangerine or Peach Fizz, or a totally opposite hue in a subtle vanilla like Fortune Cookie or Soft Cream.

It took me weeks to narrow down my family room paint choices to four very different, very comfortable beiges. With my sample cards proudly propped up on the fireplace, I asked a friend which one he thought would look best. "None," he says. "They're not you. Those colors are too boring." So much for that.

Everyone is a critic, and everyone is a decorator. And speaking of critics, can you believe the fuss everybody is making over the revamping of the Oval Office? The taupe and beige colors seem reserved and muted, and the furniture styles are somewhat understated. Surely they couldn't have come out looking like the Bellagio Hotel with the economy in the state that it is. Imagine the flak they would have taken for that?

I've seen the Oval Office in person, having had the opportunity to visit the White House when my uncle was head of the Situation Room a few administrations ago. It is a roundish room, OK, oval. But still, with Obama's new stripes on the wall, I can't help but get the feeling of a merry-go-round in there, which I am sure sometimes it does.

The Oval Office has a new carpet, too, like most administrations do. But unlike past presidents, Obama chose to weave his favorite quotes right into the rug: quotes from Lincoln, Roosevelt, Kennedy and King.

Interesting idea, I thought. So, for my rug, I would weave this quote attributed to Mark Twain: "Life is short, break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uncontrollably and never regret anything that made you smile. Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."

But I can't weave quotes into a carpet, for the same reason I can't get a tattoo: It's too permanent. Which reminds me, paint is not. So why am I vacillating? Peach Fizz it is.

What quote would you weave into your new carpet? E-mail me your favorite.

Quote of the Week: "Women are made to be loved, not understood." — Oscar Wilde

Hey, How Did that Get There?

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section Saturday, August 28, 2010

You know they say when you die, you are taken to a room. And in that room is a huge pile of everything you have ever lost in your life: money, jewelry, car keys, pets, socks, computer files, and definitely a few pairs of very cool, very expensive sunglasses.

When you lose things, if you're lucky enough to find them, they always turn up in the most unusual places.

Did you hear about that mysterious boat that was found on Madeira Beach, Fla.? Local residents were amazed when the 48-foot yacht, unmanned with the motor running, washed ashore last Wednesday just south of Clearwater.

Adding to the mystery is the fact that the vessel is registered to the federal government, according to CNN. Given this information, I wouldn't necessarily say it was lost, but a boat turning up without a captain, with the lights glaring and motor running is something more than your typical find at a beach — much more interesting than sea glass, that's for sure.

Speaking of discovering things, finding messages in bottles is fascinating and more common than you might think.

One bottle sailed the ocean currents for eight years, traveling thousands of miles from Port Everglades, Fla., across the Atlantic to Bordeaux, France, where a Frenchman found a note dropped into the ocean 23 years earlier by a young girl at summer camp.

Another bottle was filled with letters written by a grieving family to their son, a casualty of the war in Afghanistan. On vacation in Barbados, the family sipped sambuca in their son's honor, then filled the empty bottle with goodbye notes and tossed it into the water. The bottle was found off the Mississippi coast by a Gulf oil spill cleanup crew some 1,300 miles away.

Sometimes things are just as special, but lost much closer to home.

We have a new kitten in the house and last week at about 8 o'clock on Tuesday night, she was nowhere to be found. After I convinced myself there was no way she could have escaped out the front door when I went outside to water the roses, we tore the house apart looking for our lost kitty. My daughters and I thought for sure we would find her cuddled amongst the socks in her usual dresser drawer, but no such luck.

With the stress level approaching nuclear meltdown, the only thing to do was the obvious: make popcorn. I opened the cupboard to get a bowl and there was the kitten curled up in the colander, fast asleep. Seems she must have gotten inside when I was making the salad for dinner. A collective sigh of relief swept through the house, to say the least.

The next time you lose something, just remember to cross your fingers, hold your breath and say the magic words: St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come around. Something has been lost and cannot be found.

Quote of the Week: "Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most." — Mark Twain

Eat, Love, Pray Close To Home

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section Saturday, August 14, 2010


There is a lot of hoopla out this week about the new Julia Roberts' movie "Eat Pray Love." It is a story about a woman who embarks on a journey around the world that becomes a quest for self-discovery. In her travels, she discovers the true pleasure of nourishment by eating in Italy; the power of prayer in India; and, finally the inner peace and balance of true love in Bali.

I read the book by Elizabeth Gilbert and wasn't a big fan, so I doubt I will be seeing the movie. And besides, I don't have to go around the world to have this same experience. I did it all right here in Rio Rancho over the summer.

The "eat" portion of my journey just happens to be my favorite, and with my favorite people. My daughters and I celebrated the end of summer with a dinner out last Wednesday, the night before the first day of school.

Somehow our dinner conversations always turn to subjects that we wouldn't discuss in front of anyone else, let alone a waiter. We usually end up laughing so hard that people start to stare.

On the subject of music, one question I got was what did those Aerosmith lyrics really mean. I claimed ignorance and got away with it.

Another question I got was prompted by something my daughters saw on the Las Vegas strip last month. Obviously captivated by a billboard with shirtless men wearing signature white cuffs and collars, I was asked why was the all-male strip group Chippendales named after the cute and cuddly Disney chipmunk characters Chip and Dale? After getting over the shock that they knew what Chippendales was, the seriousness of the question had me in tears.

The "pray" portion came in the form of a municipality project in my own neighborhood.

I prayed all summer that the city would finish the construction on the three major roads leading to Rio Rancho High School before Aug. 12.

I don't live very far from the school, and back in June was interested to see the start of a new roundabout at the entrance to the student parking lot. I became slightly concerned when three other roads in the area were torn up at the same time, because there is no way the single lane and detours could handle school traffic.

As July rolled around, I began to wonder if the work was progressing as fast as it should, and sure enough, RRPS put calls out to all of the parents asking for patience and explaining the detours wouldn't be in place very much longer. I am still praying.

The "love" portion of my journey has to be the easiest, given the vast quantity of things that are happening right now that put a smile on my face.

I loved it last week when JetBlue flight attendant Steven Slater quit his job in a most entertaining way. Having had all he could take in his 28 year career of waiting on people cramped on airplanes, he grabbed two beers and slid down the emergency slide of the airplane to freedom, aka unemployment.

Reports said he had thought about it many times before but never actually acted on it. Hasn't everyone? Of course, the higher-ups at the company didn't approve of his actions, as can be expected, but Slater gained support as fellow worker bees could relate.

Every workplace in America should have an inflatable emergency slide from a second story window for disgruntled employees who wish to take their jobs and shove it. They might want to consider installing two in neighborhood post offices.

Eat. Pray. Love. No need to go any further than your own backyard.

Quote of the Week: "Don't wanna close my eyes, don't wanna fall asleep." — "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing," performed by Aerosmith.

Huard's column runs each Saturday. She welcomes your e-mails at jhuard@abqjournal.com. Visit her blog at www.jenniferhuard.blogspot.com.

RRHS Alumni Set the Bar Quite High

As appeard in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section August 07, 2010


For all of the students who are complaining that school is about to start next week and think it's a waste of time, I've got some good news for you.

For all the kids who have had Advanced Placement summer reading to get through and say the subject matter was boring and useless, it is understandable that you may not be able to see the forest through the trees right now. But all that hard work will pay off.

There are many students from Rio Rancho who have graduated and moved on to promising careers, like Ford Carty, a 2010 Rio Rancho High School graduate who is now at the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs.

And Kara Babb, a 2005 RRHS graduate who got her bachelor's in 2009 in Global Business and Asian Studies and is in China now studying for her master's degree.

Is it the teachers, the classes or the individual kids that inspire success? A good guess would be it is a combination of all three, or so says Linda Babb, Kara's mom.

"Kara played varsity soccer at RRHS under Uwe Balzis," Linda Babb says. "She credits the AP English and History classes she took with preparing her for college work. It definitely helped her writing ability."

Sometimes the pieces just fall into place. Kara's interests were sparked by a professor's suggestion.

"Kara went to the University of Redlands in Southern California, not knowing, of course, what she's going to major in," says Kara's dad, Chip. "Come her second year, one of her professors recommended she take some classes in Global Business, which had a foreign language requirement, so she signs up for Mandarin — not easy."

When she was a junior, Kara spent seven months in Beijing studying at Peking University and doing an internship with a Chinese business development company.

Currently pursuing her master's degree in Asian language and literature from Ohio State University, Kara will be writing and defending her thesis in Mandarin. Now that's what I call impressive.

As if those credentials weren't enough, Kara just finished sixth out of 118 students worldwide in an "American Idol" style competition sponsored by the Chinese government and the Confucius Institute in China and the U.S.

I asked Linda Babb how her daughter liked living in China and if she was assimilating into the culture.

"Kara was always pretty outgoing," she tells me. "We never imagined she'd do this, but she constantly surprises us."

Besides her studies and work, there is always time for socializing and meeting the locals. "The people are very friendly and welcoming. In fact, if they invite you to their home for a meal, it becomes a banquet," says Linda Babb. "At one event, Kara was toasted about 10 times (after each course) and then was asked to sing 'The Star Spangled Banner' in front of everyone."

We knew Rio Rancho schools produced some extraordinary graduates; we just didn't know how far they would go.

Quote of the Week: "Kara ... you thought Spanish was hard!" — Chip Babb, Kara's proud dad.

End Is Near - for School

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section July 31, 2010

Why is this line so long? Did you bring the bus form we have to turn in? Why can't I get the gold parking pass now? My registration fee is how much? I really don't remember there ever being a line this long.

There I was last Wednesday morning, standing in line to register my daughter for her senior year at Rio Rancho High School. A line that at 8 a.m. I thought would be nonexistent, but instead snaked its way from the cafeteria across the campus into the parking lot. As I looked at the people around me, it was easy to pick out which kid went with which parent; there was a sea of mini me's, all looking like their parents did 30 or so years prior. I wondered if the melancholy of my child's impending graduation milestone was going through the heads of the other parents like it was mine. Yes, I am projecting, but that's what I do.

I already know that I will be holding back the tears through every school event this year, knowing it will be my daughter's last "everything" in high school. And the first test I had was making it through the taking of her senior pictures. Talk about coming full circle. Since parents usually are not with their kids when their class pictures are taken, the last time I was witness to my daughter having her picture taken for school was in preschool when she was 4 years old. Here I was now watching her pose in a cap and gown for her high school graduation. I didn't make a scene; I didn't cry or walk out. But inside I was dying.

Where did the time go? All I did was blink and she grew up. My brother warned me this would happen but I didn't believe him. Now I am looking down the barrel of senior year and I have to keep my composure through it all.

I won't cry at the last football game when her marching band takes the field for the last time.

I won't cry when she picks out a dress and goes to her last Homecoming dance with her friends and then comes home to tell he how much fun they all had, dancing in the rain to ACDC's "You Shook Me All Night Long."

I won't cry when the marching band wins a trophy at Zia Marching Band Fiesta at the University of New Mexico and the drum majors do their special salute and the band and crowd go wild (yes I will).

My biggest hurdle will be having to sit through the video at the band awards banquet next spring when they show a baby, child and senior picture of each graduating senior. I've teared up at this sequence since the first time I saw it four years ago, and I didn't even know the kids who were in it.

I remember seeing my mother cry when I left for college and not understanding her tears. She spent my whole life teaching me independence, common sense and how to stand up straight. I thought for sure she would be happy to see me spread my wings and fly the nest. Now I understand her tears. Heaven help me. Thank goodness I have one more daughter.

Quote of the Week: "Graduation day is tough for adults. They go to the ceremony as parents. They come home as contemporaries. After 22 years of child-rearing, they are unemployed." — Erma Bombeck

On This Trip, Destination Is Well Worth the Journey

For those of us who aren't taking a big vacation this summer, I've discovered another day worth sharing. If you have taken the Turquoise Trail to Madrid, then you can sing along with me. If you haven't, you are in for a real treat.

There is a much easier and faster way to get to Madrid, but who's in a hurry on this recent bright and relaxing Sunday afternoon? Not me nor my faithful tour guide, so we head up Sandia Crest Byway, a national scenic byway heading east on Route 165 out of Placitas, and right into the Cibola National Forest. Las Huertas Canyon welcomes us as the trees begin to canopy over the car and the asphalt road turns to a narrow, winding dirt road. We rattle over washboard sections that remind us we're a far cry from Interstate 25.

Although it seems like the road is taking us deep into the dark and forgotten woods, I feel like I should be dropping bread crumbs behind us. But it seems we're not the only ones to know about this place. Yes, once again I am the last person in New Mexico to discover this popular destination for day campers and picnickers, given the pickup trucks, Jeeps and what-have-yous parked amongst the trees and packed with coolers, hibachis and folding lawn chairs.

I am enjoying the beautiful view as I begin to identify the junipers and piñons and the occasional wild flower. I get caught up in the moment and say to my tour guide, "I hope we spot a bear," which gets me a sideways glance because he knows I only say this from the safety and security of a locked and moving car.

This is the wild adventurous part of the trip, 8,000 feet now, and we are glad it is summertime. A sign reads "Road Closed in Winter — Proceed at Your Own Risk," reminding travelers that in January the snow can get as deep as 6 to 8 feet here. The beautiful aspens start to appear all around and the view is worthy of a few clicks of the camera.

We make it to the top and hit paved Route 536 and the Sandia Peak Ski Area. OK, now I know where I am. It's only a short drive up the Turquoise Trail (N.M. 14) to Madrid for lunch and shopping.

Once an historic coal mining and ghost town, Madrid is a small community with quaint and quirky shops that line the main drag, while tourists and an occasional golden retriever wander by. Shopping here is a treat, given the variety of Gypsy shops, antique stores, art and jewelry boutiques, restaurants and ice cream shops. I think I will have to make a return visit for some holiday shopping later in the year.

It's BLTs for lunch at the Mine Shaft Tavern, another biker bar complete with the quintessential outdoor porch for standing and strutting your bandana, tattoos and tank-topped biker chick. The place is packed, so we grab two seats at the end of the bar and place our order. The sign in the lobby sums up the town's cast of characters and feel-good ambience: We don't have a town drunk, we all take turns.

A cloudburst cooled off the afternoon as the locals prepared for a bluegrass music festival later that evening. We hit the road, taking a secret short cut back and shaving off half the time it took to get there. If you want to take this shortcut to Madrid rather than the Turquoise Trail, head north on I-25 and take the Santo Domingo Pueblo exit at the water tower, heading east until you reach Route 14. But remember, it's the journey, not the destination, so go slow. Enjoy.

Quote of the Week: "Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Want to Cool Off? How Old Are You?

As Appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section July 17, 2010

Dog days of summer? You say that like it's a bad thing. We may be smack dab in the middle of July, 90-plus degrees on the thermometer and barely a breeze at times, but heck, you waited all winter for this; now you finally got your wish.

It's a good thing we are living in the Southwest at this altitude, because I know many of you out there are transplants from the East Coast, Midwest and the South and are well aware of what 90 degrees Fahrenheit with 90 percent humidity feels like. Can you say pea soup?

Here in the Southwest and at an elevation of 5,469 feet, Rio Rancho sits high enough to stay dry, and cool enough to make Money magazine's list of the "100 Best Places to Live."

In 2005, we ranked 83rd on this list. In 2006, we moved up to 56th place. This year we bettered our score, ranking in at 51. While one might surmise it might be due to the new roundabouts the city is installing around town that earned us our best score yet, when actually, according to the survey it was criteria such as jobs, schools, public safety and features that make a place great for raising a family that got us our high marks.

So how do the citizens of the 51st-ranked Best Places to Live City cool off during a scorching summer? That depends on whom you ask.

If you ask the tween set, that would be kids between the ages of 9 and 13, what they do to cool off, their answer would be The Big Flush Water Coaster at Cliff's Amusement Park. And not just once, but as many times as their parents will allow them to go.

Ask a teenager what they do to cool off and you will get a variety of answers. The mall is always top of the mind for this age group. But a favorite and probably the coolest place to be is at Blades ice skating rink on Loma Colorado for brushing up on triple toe loops and flying sit spins. After, there is nothing better than hitting Sonic Drive-In and not ordering anything, but just hanging out and hoping some interesting boys pull up in the space next to yours.

Moving on to the age group that is most likely reading this column in the newspaper today, I offer up some options for you. For the homebodies, how about a delicious new recipe for gazpacho, that chilled summer soup that tastes best right about this time of year with a cold glass of mango iced tea.

For the wanderlust souls in the crowd, we are lucky Rio Rancho is so centrally located; the choices are many. Remember the temperature drops 5.4 degrees for every 1,000 feet you climb, so I say head for the hills. Possible day trips to cooler locales include Madrid (elev. 5,997) or Santa Fe (elev. 7,000). But for those really looking to cool off head on up to Taos (elev. 7,249) or even Angel Fire (elev. 8,379) to really get away from it all. Remember to take your sweater.

Stay cool, my friends. Before you know it we will be switching the furnaces on, putting the big comforters back on the beds and wishing it was summer.

Quote of the Week: "Hot town, summer in the city. Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty. Been down, isn't it a pity, doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city." — Lovin' Spoonful's "Summer in the City."

Jemez Loop Leaves Day Tripper in Awe

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section 7/3/10

In another installment of my day tripping columns, I have to admit, and to the surprise of my tour guide, that having lived here for five years, I had never ventured up US 550 to explore the natural beauty of this part of our state.

I recently took a day trip and did “the loop,” mainly Route 4, Jémez Mountain Trail National Scenic Byway that started out through the beautiful red rocks of the Jemez Valley.
We ventured off the beaten path to pay a visit to the Ponderosa Valley Vineyard and Winery, where on this particular Sunday afternoon every seat at the tasting counter was taken as the connoisseurs swilled their chardonnay and chatted it up with owners Henry and Mary Street. We grabbed a bottle of Summer Sage, put the dog back in the car and continued on our way.
Sitting on the tail gate of the parked car between the red mesas, I must say the colors are enough to leave you in awe. The mountainsides are a rich, dark reddish orange color that contrasts with the green of the brush and the blue of the sky. Where’s my camera? At home on the counter where I left it, of course.
Before continuing up Rt 4, another quick side trip on N.M. 485 lead us to the Gilman Tunnels; man made in the 1920s for a logging train passage. The tunnels frame out the waterfall and vertical rocks making for a beautiful picture, if only to be saved in my mind this time.

It was a beautiful cool, sunny day and although we were in a yellow Honda Element, a more open means of travel proved popular as seen by all of the motorcycles parked outside of the Los Ojos Restaurant & Saloon in Jemez Springs.

Nevertheless, I rolled my window down in the Honda and stuck my arm out the whole way; next stopping at Soda Dam, a natural phenomenon formed over time. My inner geologist was marveling at the mounds of calcium carbonate deposited over millions of years by the hot springs that made the rocks smooth in appearance, while my inner child likened it to melting scoops of ice cream.

The red rocks gave way to Aspens and pine trees as we continued north into the Santa Fe National Forest and passed Battleship Rock, a sheer cliff that rises suddenly above the river like a land locked lost ghost ship. Another picturesque moment.

We lunched on green chili Reuben sandwich and chicken fried steak in La Cueva at the Ridgeback Café where Animal Amigos was holding a yard sale in the parking lot to raise money for their dogs and cats.
Being the only New Mexican to not know about this, the 89,000 acre Valles Caldera National Preserve caught me off guard. We pulled off the road to take in the beauty of one of the largest volcanic calderas in the world, now a breathtaking expanse of mountain meadow and forest. Through the binoculars we saw herds of elk and cows grazing in the distance. This was definitely my favorite stop on the trip, as was it for Wayne, a full time RV’er who wandered over from his parked motor home to make friends with us and talk about the natural beauty of the area and how he surprisingly still had cell phone service.

Continuing the loop, we drove through Los Alamos. The damage can still be seen some ten years later from the 2000 Cerro Grande fire that burned 48,000 acres of lush forest and over 400 family homes. The blacked hillside is a sad reminder just how vulnerable life is.

Rounding Santa Fe, we continued down the home stretch on I-25 south and back to Rio Rancho in time for sunset. A day trip worth doing for visiting guests or your own family.

Quote of the Week: “It was a beautiful day, the sun beat down, I had the radio on, I was drivin’. Trees flew by, I was flyin’,” – Tom Petty, Runnin’ Down a Dream.

Time Sure Flies When Your Kids Are Growing Up

As appeared in the Albuquerque Journal Rio Rancho section 6/26/10

I have a friend who just had her second baby. She now has two little ones and she has stepped down from her high profile job in journalism ready to embark on what she calls a “slower paced” life at home.

I remember those early days when my two daughters were very small. I worked part time from my home office after they went to bed at night. I was never so tired in my life. Oh, sure at first I was bored to death; the laundry was always folded, the floors were always scrubbed and the meals were always on the table on time. And then they began to have birthdays.

First birthday parties are usually small with immediate family in attendance. I ironed my light blue smocked dress with the itchy crinoline petticoat that tied in the back that my mother had saved all those years. Here I was thirty-three year later putting it on my own daughter on her first birthday. Time sure flies.

By the second or third birthday kids are brave enough to walk into a Chuck E. Cheese and not jump out of their skin when the big stuffed animals walk up to them and try to give them a hug. By the time they are 5 and 6, the only goal is to win 25,000 game tickets so they can buy the red yo yo and a Chinese finger trap, eat a piece of pizza and go home slung over dad’s shoulder. Time sure flies.

As parents we work so hard to make the birthday parties perfect and something our kids will treasure in their hearts forever. Like the time when my mother made a special coconut elephant shaped cake for my brother’s fourth birthday because his favorite animal was elephants. She slaved over a hot oven all day making the masterpiece from scratch; mind you this was 1963, plus she had two younger children at her hip. She spread the white whipped frosting all over the elephant, carefully placing a maraschino cherry for the eye. Upon presenting the birthday boy his cake at the table, he took one look at it and proclaimed, “I don’t like coconut.” He didn’t eat one bite.

The moon bounces and water slides are a big hit for the summer birthdays. By the time the kids are old enough for these, parents are still young enough to partake of the recreation as well. “Do it again, Mom. Please? C’mon, one more time” Time sure flies.

But soon they outgrow the pony rides and jumpies and it’s on to bigger and better activities. My youngest turns twelve this week and I surprised her with a bowling party with four of her closest girlfriends. I thought this would be a new and exciting way to celebrate a birthday, besides girls this age love being together just about anywhere.

What do twelve year old girls do at a bowling birthday party? Well, they don’t bowl. After an hour they were still on frame number four. They don’t eat the pizza either. They don’t talk to their mothers. What they do is stand in a tight group as if they haven’t seen each other in years, giggle, look at each other’s cell phones and talk about boys. Time sure flies.

Quote of the Week: “May you live to be 100 and may the last voice you hear be mine.” -Frank Sinatra.