renovation blues

After the primer dried, I applied two coats of “bistro white” American Tradition Signature paint to the ceiling. At the very least, the ceiling will be a millimeter closer to the floor in the event that I ever have to paint it again.



After the ceiling was good and dry, I taped off the margins and started on the walls. The color for the walls is “coventry blue.” Again, I went with the eggshell finish as it is supposed to help hide mistakes. I would say that the paint was very forgiving, and the screw-ups that it couldn’t cover can probably be hidden via some creative picture hanging.




For those of you concerned that both our living room and my office are also shades of blue, fear not- the plan is that they won’t remain anything close to blue (at some point in the future).

I also installed a new sconce on the wall above the invisible sink and vanity and hung a new chandelier. The trick to hanging a chandelier if you haven’t had the pleasure, is to dangle it nearby using a wire hanger while you connect the wires, disconnect them, reconnect them, then disconnect them and run the wires correctly and reconnect them… well, you get the idea. Using the hanger makes a two-person job into a single person task that allows one to curse as much as they please.




Comparing the new walls to the crappy weathered window resulted in the determination that I also needed to scrape, sand and repaint it as well. I’m definitely not interested in getting into the stripping of the window and this point, so it will remain one of the few painted windows in the original part of the house. I've got a good start on that. At least it will look nice when I'm done.

in a white room with no curtains

Now that I have the walls covered with primer, the bathroom makes me think of the Cream song “White Room” – a smash single off their 1968 album Wheels of Fire. I’ve heard a ton of ideas what that song was “about,” ranging from drug use to the Vietnam Police Action. I prefer to believe Pete Brown’s explanation that it was simply about his new apartment.



Regardless of its origin, the tune is a shining example of a missed opportunity. Let me explain…

I recently compiled a mix cd for a buddy who is/was wrestling with the notion of pursuing his boyhood dream of becoming a train engineer. The theme of the cd was simply TRAINS. “White Room” would have blended nicely into one of several places on the cd, but as I explained to one of my college roommates (whom I sent a copy of the disc for editorial review) after he busted me for not including Rickie Lee Jones’ “Ghost Train,” there simply wasn’t enough room to include everything I wanted. Incidentally, I also failed to include “Night Train” or “Woody and Dutch on the Slow Train to Peking” – excellent Jones offerings from 1979 and 1981 respectively.

First, a word about the cover art, then I will include a list of the songs that made the cut. The main image is an iconic photo by O. Winston Link entitled “Hot Shot Eastbound.” In the original Link photo, the drive-in screen has a jet plane on it that serves as the exclamation point for an overall fun image. I replaced that portion of the image with a scene from the classic film Runaway Train to make it even more fun, if not completely obscure. If you’ve never seen Runaway Train, the film is capable of making you shiver on the hottest summer night, making it the perfect rental the next time your air conditioner (or evaporative cooler) isn’t doing the trick.



Okay, That’s Not My Harmonica includes the following:

Train Train – Blackfoot
Forever Changed – Lou Reed & John Cale
Mystery Train – Bob Welch
Orange Blossom Special – Lester Flatt & Earl Scruggs
Driver 8 – REM
It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry – Bob Dylan
Train in the Distance – Paul Simon
Waiting for a Train – Boz Scaggs
Peace Train – 10,000 Maniacs
King of the Road – Roger Miller
Midnight Flyer – The Eagles
Riding on a Railroad – James Taylor
Train of Love – Johnny Ca$h
Silverton Train – C.W. McCall
(Waiting for the) Ghost Train – Madness
Homeward Bound (live) – Paul Simon & George Harrison
Crazy Train (live) – Ozzy Osbourne
Electric Trains – Squeeze
Casey Jones – Warren Zevon & David Lindley
Foggy Mountain Breakdown - Lester Flatt & Earl Scruggs
Downtown Train – Tom Waits
Another Song About a Train – Terrapin Isle
Last Train to Clarksville – The Monkees

As far as I know, I am the first person to attempt a mix cd that contains both Boz Scaggs AND Earl Scruggs. I think it works.

joy in mudville

I finally finished applying joint compound to the drywall. I actually had completed the third coat the day before, but it had some severe cosmetic issues. I didn’t care for the way it looked at all, until I got busy with a sanding screen. Even though using the screen to knock down all the bumps and ridges made all the difference in the world, I also gave the walls a once over with a wet sponge. The sponge allowed me to really smooth out most areas. After stepping back and inspecting my work, I decided to go back and add more mud to the joints where my drywall met the existing wall at 8 feet above the floor. Although it added a full day to the project (mostly drying time), I decided it was the best approach. Otherwise, every time I sat on the throne in the future, I would have to look at the lousy job I had done.

A quick word to any reader who happens to write or edit “do it yourself” books or websites- the rest of you can skip down to the next paragraph. Please stop suggesting that using a wet sponge will prevent the creation of dust. Sure, it creates less dust than sandpaper or a sanding screen or a sand storm, and perhaps that dust is somewhat damp, but it still creates a mess that will have to be cleaned up pretty much immediately.

While waiting for the final sections of wet joint compound to dry so I could sand them, I decided to begin priming the ceiling. I used the remainder of the stain blocking primer I had left over from the bedroom painting as a first coat. I intend to use the same “new construction” primer that I apply to the drywall as a second coat for consistency. I’m not sure if I will have to add a third coat of primer to the ceiling since I am going from a mottled navy blue and smoker’s white to a plain, “bistro” white. I’m also going from a disgusting semi-gloss ceiling to an eggshell finish so I am prepared for some coverage issues.

Switching gears… tonight I killed the largest black widow I have ever seen. It was outside “hiding” under the faucet that controls the garden hose. I guess she was hunting for gardeners. Over all, I saw significantly fewer black widows this year (a couple dozen) than the previous year (when I was killing up to 15-20 per night). I attribute the lower density to the fact that the house and two garages next door hadn’t just been gutted, and also because I had filled in all the crevasses and voids in the adobe brick garden beds with wet adobe- thereby removing a vast majority of their potential habitat. On the other hand, perhaps they have simply improved their ability to remain undetected.

I’ve also been noticing a higher population of praying mantids. This time of year appears to be their mating season, and they tend to congregate near the floodlights on the side of the house and garage where they can eat moths as long as they want. So far, only one male mantid has ventured into the house- via the open bathroom window. When I asked if he had been reading my blog he quietly cocked his head to one side and stared at me as if I was crazy.

down in the dumps

So I’m sitting here in my group W office chair waiting for the second coat of joint compound to dry. I figure I have time to compose a progress report before I apply the third (and hopefully final) coat.



Obviously I got all the drywall up. I used regular ½-inch panels across the majority of the room, but installed special water-resistant (not to be confused with “water-proof”) “aquablocker” board in the areas adjacent to the where the tub and sink will live.



I recently made a quick trip to Home Depot for one last sheet of drywall I required to finish up. I needed to have it cut in half, so I rounded up a likely candidate– i.e., the nearest “orange vest” who had a utility knife dangling from his belt. Let me tell you, this clown seemed determined on putting the “Ass” back in Associate.

“We don’t cut drywall,” he proclaimed while standing on a low mound of drywall remnants.

“You don’t cut drywall?” I replied, “Okay, I’ll go to Lowe’s.”

And with those magic words, the kid sprung into action and scored the drywall panel so we could snap it more or less in half. I’m not sure if he was just a slacker, or if it is Home Depot’s policy to try to get customers to buy utility knives that they don’t really need. Nevertheless, I keep saying that I won’t go back there, yet I do because they are about 2.3 miles closer than Lowe’s.

Over the weekend, I hauled a truckload of bathroom debris to the local solid waste plant. That is a very interesting place, but I wouldn’t want to work there. The dump has large signs posted at the entry indicating that they don’t accept construction materials, but I don’t think my old drywall and tiles counted given that they technically were destruction materials. It is really fun to back the truck up to the edge of this concrete pit and toss things into a heap while a backhoe operator waits to shove it into different piles. I also took advantage of the opportunity to unload a number of large cardboard boxes that I had filled with nasty weeds from the garden and alley. To be sure, utilization of the dump is a bargain at only $3.60 per load.

As for the renovation, lighting has been selected and purchased. I have examined both the ceiling light and wall sconce, and am about 97 percent certain they will work fine.

I’ve also been refurbishing an old wooden medicine cabinet, converting it into a simple shelf unit that will be set into the north wall of the room. I believe I have a photo that illustrates where that will go.




If progress continues without setbacks, I should have the walls sanded and primed by the end of the Major League Baseball regular season.

news from the front

Day um… aw heck, I’ve lost track already. At any rate, I don’t think I’m going to set any records for my bathroom renovation project. I have about half of the drywall up now, and have roughed in some support for a shelf that I will be installing into the north wall.

My befuddlement as to why the porch light stops working when I flip the circuit breaker that controls the majority of the bathroom had me once again rooting around in the crawlspace under the western portion of the house. I imagine the web of cables would make sense to the spider that ran them, or perhaps even to a professional electrician- but not so much to me.

I found another interesting artifact in the dirt worth mentioning. It is nearly a page and a half of the Albuquerque Tribune dated September 22, 1944 (that makes it 62 years old tomorrow). It is pretty kool- especially the funny ads for everyday items. It contains part of an article about allied troops taking an important bridge, an obituary for a local boy killed in action in France, a 50th wedding anniversary announcement, and part of the Major League Baseball standings (which I found particularly interesting).



The paper fragment contains all kinds of intriguing information, but I decided that I would have to save it to read at a later date, as I needed to get back to work on the bathroom. I did replace the regular old outlet with a brand new GFCI receptacle in order to check off the first item from the electrical “to do” list.



Then I took a deep breath and pulled out the double light switches on the north wall that control the ceiling light, sconce light, fan and wall heater. What a tangled mess! It didn’t look like what I was expecting, so I took some time and consulted my reference books and a few electrical websites. Half a bag of candy corn later I had formulated my plan of attack.



Everything went well, and I actually had one piece of wire left over. Great Bill Schmidt’s ghost! Someone had taken a strip of bare copper wire and run it between both live terminals on one of the switches. After I figured out that they had done so in order to use it in the manner of a brand new switch that hadn’t had that little copper plate broken off, I felt relieved. Surely that isn’t the best way to have done it.



On a roll, I ripped out the old rough in can for the crap wall heater and had the replacement one installed, wired and operating in just over two hours. Not bad at all!



Now I have more drywall to hang, and it is time to select the lighting.

electric SHOCK

No, this entry isn’t about the ongoing bathroom renovation, but rather the Lou Reed concert in Santa Fe on September 16th. The intimate, open-air John Crosby Theater at the Santa Fe Opera is a fantastic venue. A Lou Reed show can be a life-altering experience. You better believe it man, its true!

Several years ago, I made the mistake of listening to Lou’s "Magic & Loss" album while driving to my grandmother’s funeral. What seemed like a good idea at the time, actually backfired and resulted in me finding that cd practically unplayable. Hoping to change the personal attachment I have to the album, I decided to give it another try while driving from Albuquerque to the concert. Perhaps one of the best features of the Santa Fe Opera is that you are able to get to it via NM Route 599, the Santa Fe Relief Route, so you don’t have to deal with the tourist trap of a city itself.

Arriving at the theater some 40-45 minutes prior to the gates opening afforded the opportunity to listen to the sound check. Lou’s band started the tune What’s Good (interestingly, from the aforementioned “Magic & Loss” album) at least a dozen times as technicians worked on getting the sound just right. The sound check continued after the gates opened, and after obtaining a glass of wine, we wondered around the plaza area until discovering a small area where we could stand and see the stage simply by blocking the setting sun from our eyes with our hands.

While Lou recited some poetry between sips of Diet Coke, the band continued working on the beginning of What’s Good. Just prior to the band leaving the stage, Lou spoke into the microphone “How’s that sound Frank? Not too lifeless?” Soon after that, people were allowed access to their seats in the theater. We continued walking about on the plaza and looking at people. The majority of people wore black, and plenty of it. Still there was enough turquoise to remind you that you were no longer in the real world, and enough cowboy hats to suggest that you were either in the southwest, or at an extras casting call for a remake of Midnight Cowboy.

Once it was dark outside, the house lights were dimmed and the stage lights brightened. There would be no messing around with an opening act of any type. A roar from the crowd greeted Lou as he walked onto the stage with his band mates. Lou wore faded blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a light grey Unabomber-style hooded sweatshirt. He also was sporting a necklace with a red chile pepper pendant. (Um, did I mention that we were in the ninth row? And by the way, 50 bonus points to anyone who can explain why the opera doesn’t have a row “i.”)

Mike Rathke joined Lou on guitar. An energetic Fernando Saunders played bass and Rob Wasserman was on hand to play upright bass. Encased in a Plexiglas shell not unlike to the Popemobile, drummer Tony “Thunder” Smith served as the group’s beating heart, forcing the haunting sounds created by the four guitars to course through the veins of everyone in attendance. The combination helped prepare our brains to receive Reed’s lyrics which were dispensed as if by a pharmacist who suspects the recipients are being overmedicated, but also realizes that there is a 95 percent chance that they will survive the experience.

They opened with Dorita, the ghostly instrumental that is the first track on "Magic & Loss," transitioning seamlessly into What’s Good. Both were amazing! I guess I could say that about every song, so let’s just agree that you will assume that as you continue reading.

Lou’s delivery of my favorite line from the next song, The Proposition, “you won't see my parents honored on any stamp,” alone was worth the price of admission. As the band changed instruments following the third tune, Lou took a moment to chat with the audience. He said, “People ask me, “Have you ever played in an opera house before?” … Yeah, I’ve played in lots of bars. … (pause) … It’s good, but it’s not meant for electric.” They then proceeded to crack the adobe with an earth-shattering rendition of Egg Cream.

The lighting was minimal at best. The contrast between Lou’s metallic blue guitar and the red light that bathed the band during Ecstasy was sublime. It was incredible to watch how Lou directed the band and how well they responded. Fernando Saunders performed as if Ecstasy might very well be the last song he ever played.

Of course it wasn’t. Saunders was right there as the band shifted gears and turned onto the Dirty Boulevard. Leave it to Lou to make you feel great by forcing you to realize how lucky you are to not be a subject of one of his songs. Reed is forever tinkering with his tunes until he gets them just right. In this case, he delivered this modified portion of the third verse while shaking his head.

“You can believe it man its true
Somewhere a president’s laughing till he wets his pants
But this song is from 1989
And look at us today”

Not wanting to wet my own pants, I made a dash for the restroom instead of applauding at the end of Dirty Boulevard. I actually made it to an open urinal before I heard the muffled first notes of Waiting for My Man. While I relieved myself of a bladder full of grape juice, I realized that the restroom air-freshener was pot scented. As I washed my hands I observed that there were so many black leather jackets about that one could easily mistake the gathering for a Sweat Hogs reunion. I made it back to my seat well before Lou took the audience up three flights of stairs of a Brownstone for a taste.

Next, we were subjected to Lou’s interpretation of The Raven that I suspect would manage to scare the Poe out of old Edgar Allan himself. I regret that I am unable to string the right words together to describe the pure energy that cascaded over the edge of the stage and washed through the audience during that number. It made me realize that critics of Reed’s double album that includes The Raven are missing out on some of his best work by shunning the effort. Too bad for them!

Reed switched over to a candy apple red guitar for Coney Island Baby. The decision to play that song next was genius. It begins so mellow and builds to a point where you think something on stage is going to explode. It was near the end of Coney Island Baby when Lou had his first true one-on-one jam session with Rathke. Oh man, let me tell you this… Mike Rathke was playing his nuts off. It was so insane that I saw Lou smile. I swear!

I think it was a common feeling among the audience that each member of the band truly seemed to be excited to be performing with Reed. I don’t even think they were all that concerned about the audience. During several points in the evening, Lou would sort of well… get all caught up in the moment and begin screaming into the microphone. The veins in his neck appeared to be on the verge of bursting. Rathke, Saunders and Smith would exchange looks and laugh with each other, having more fun than the Harlem Globetrotters while running up the score against the hapless Washington Generals. Although considerably less animated, Wasserman also appeared to be having a great time.

After the standing ovation that followed Coney Island Baby, Lou returned to the microphone and said, “Thank you. We have to slow down now… Maybe for a month.” After another round of applause, he added, “But we won’t. Because we came here to play for YOU.” God I love Lou! Even though he said it in that classic tone that indicates that he knows that you know he is bullshitting you, you still want to believe that it is true. The joke is on everyone.

Next they performed Guardian Angel, another tune from "The Raven." It was great, but I had been hoping they would play Riptide, which they had performed in concert in New York 4 nights before.

Dreamin’ was next. Another selection from "Magic & Loss" that Lou dedicated to his friend Rita and his other friend Doc in which he mocks death by stating, “you were no saint, but you deserved better than that.” Seeing him perform such an amazingly personal and sad song definitely made me appreciate that album again to the point that it will be returned to the rotation.

The final song of the set was the ever-rockin’ Set the Twilight Reeling. This performance would get the audience up on their feet and dancing, and prevented them from sitting back down through the double encore that included Sweet Jane and Perfect Day. After playing for over two hours, Lou seemed nearly exhausted as he waved and exited the stage. Maybe that’s the price one pays when they invade.

electric avenue

Here are some snapshots of the electrical outlet I mentioned that needs replaced with a GFCI receptacle. Although the outlet is located in the bathroom, it appears to be an “end-of-the-run” receptacle for the circuit that powers the adjacent bedroom to the east.







Another oddity about the way the house is wired is that when I flip the breaker for the bathroom circuit, it also kills the power to my wife’s office (located in the 1920s addition).

I also read somewhere that you should never cover electrical boxes with walls in case they have to be accessed for one reason or another. That leaves me scratching my head trying to decide what I should do with the junction box I uncovered in the wall above the quad electrical switch next to the door on the north wall.



Moving clockwise from the upper left, these switches control the ceiling light, bathroom fan, wall heater and wall sconce respectively.

I guess my options are to either move it up to the wall and cover it with a solid plate cover, or just bury it behind drywall again.

the empty room

day five?

Not much new to report, and I’m busy designing a website for a client, so this entry is going to be short.

I got the claw foot tub out of the room today. It is currently located in the far reaches of the living room hidden under a sleeping bag. Kancun is utilizing the cover as a fort to rest up and launch surprise attacks on the unsuspecting shop.vac.

Now that the bathroom is finally empty, I was able to determine that the floor is indeed level. Sheets of ¼ inch Hardibacker cement backerboard have been purchased, although they won’t be installed until after I’ve completed the work on the walls.

While cleaning up the old electric space heater that was built into the lower portion of the west wall, I decided that it was junk, and probably not worth reinstalling. Will now look into alternatives for that while selecting lighting.

I also discovered that the single electrical outlet in the room was only “attached” to drywall. Since it is located next to the sink, I think it really should be replaced with one of those fancy GFCI dealies. I am fearful of messing with electricity, but I might as well start figuring it out now. I suppose I will also want to replace the light switches so they match the other changes.

Okay, I really need to get back to work on the website since the client wishes to launch it within the next couple of weeks.

the unbathroom

Since some of you crazies have been emailing for specifics about the flooring, here are a few detail photos.





The present “subfloor” is the original 1906 hardwood flooring. The house didn’t have true subflooring (nor did the house next door which was nearly identical in construction). There appears to be two layers of plywood/particle board over that. The lowest layer measures about ½” thick, and the upper layer is about 3/8” thick. Stuck to that is the sheet linoleum that gives the cats nightmares.

It is interesting how many different opinions have surfaced on how I should approach tiling the floor. They range from ripping it all up and starting from scratch, to tiling directly over it, and include various middle ground suggestions of securing backer board over the linoleum and going from there to leaving it as is and trying to enjoy the linoleum. Some have even suggested that this whole concept of blogging about my home improvement project is boring.

I did encounter an interesting surprise while removing the remainder of the drywall. Sorry, no mint condition historic circus posters to sell on eBay, but rather these two empty Like cola soda cans.



A little research on the internet suggests that Like cola was the diet version of 7Up, that appeared on the market in 1963. Although one would suspect it was no longer being manufactured once Sugar-Free 7Up began being distributed in 1970, these cans exhibit “stay-tabs” on the top, which weren’t introduced until 1975. Thus these relics appear to date back to the “Uncola” period of pre-9/11 Americana.

I suspect Michael Rock left the cans in the wall… perhaps as offerings to appease the wandering, thirtsy ghost of Isaac the Butcher. As I understand it, Rock was a sort of architectural historian who helped document the surrounding neighborhood in order to earn its well-deserved listing in the National Register of Historic Properties. According to archival records, Michael and his wife Dora purchased the property in 1975.




Photo of Michael Rock taken on the front stoop in January of 1980.



This photo illustrates the location of the missing door that used to connect the bathroom to the bedroom that now serves as my office.

another lathe in the wall

Amazing what you can do with a pipe wrench! The tub is finally unhooked and the tacky brass hardware has been removed and tossed into the yard. Funny how much larger the 6’ by 9’ room seems now even with the tub still in it. It is the only fixture still left in the bathroom. Now I have to figure out the best method of moving it to a good location for cleaning and painting.



After a considerable amount of effort, I was able to remove the remaining tiles and backing board from the lower wall behind the baseboard heating unit. What royal pain that was with the cramped work space and lack of leverage, but I couldn’t see any way of taking it apart (short of cutting the copper pipe which I wanted no part of). In fact, I now have all the walls stripped to 5 feet above the floor. I have removed the trim from the inside of the door and window, but likely will have to remove a bit more trim as I am planning on taking the walls off all the way to 8 feet tomorrow.



The replacement sink, vanity and toilet have all been purchased and transported home. While I take a break from the work to snap some documentary photographs, my assistant studies the area where the new sink eventually will be installed.



Also have picked up ceramic tile for the floor and a bunch of tools. Since no museums seem interested in my proposed donation of the linoleum due to the possible hazardous nature of the material, the plan now is to lay the tile directly onto the existing surface. I plan on doing that after I get the walls in place and painted. The new color scheme has been chosen, but no paint has been purchased.

I just realized that I’m probably going to have to shave the bottom off the door trim and quite probably, the door itself. So I’m either going to need a saw, or some very well trained termites. I suppose that as long as I'm creating a shopping list, I should also pick up a shop-vac.

I have yet to address any lighting issues. We better get back to work.

day two… what have I gotten myself into?

First surprise- the tiles didn’t pop neatly off the walls like I had hoped. Will have to remove the walls down to the studs and eventually hang new drywall. I wonder from the number of nails I’m finding as I remove the walls if the country didn’t experience a nail shortage in the early 80s when the plaster and lathe was removed from this portion of the house.

I’m planning on only removing the lowest 5 feet of wall, but can already see that I may have to change that approach and remove the lowest 8 feet to get a clean break between existing panels of drywall. Besides, I’m not sure how good I’m going to be at masking and plastering the gaps, so I may want any unseemly seams 8 feet high instead of near eye level.

I have turned off the water and located the circuit breaker to shut off power in the project room. Got the sink unhooked and the toilet removed completely. Can already tell that unhooking the claw foot bathtub is going to be a cast iron bastard. Another issue that I hadn’t thought about was the existing baseboard heat. The unit appears to have both dry wall and tile behind it, and I don’t see any obvious way to disassemble it. Maybe it will make more sense once I get the tub moved out of the way. Quite possibly it will make less.

I have removed all artwork from the project area with exception of a ceramic skeleton man who expressed an interest in being allowed to hang around as long as possible as the tunes are rather delightful. You may wonder what I consider a good choice of music to demolish walls to. I highly recommend the Cars.

Seriously! I recently reacquainted myself with their first album “The Cars” during a road trip to Arizona. I had forgotten just how good that record is from Good Times Roll right though to All Mixed Up- each song amazingly better than the one before. I dare you to listen to Moving in Stereo without thinking about the film Fast Times at Ridgemont High. So after letting that run through several times, I switched over to another classic- “Candy-O.” Wow! I can’t even pick a favorite…. Let’s Go, It’s All I Can Do, Double Life, Candy-O, Lust for Kicks, Dangerous Type. They all rock! Even the Cars 1981 offering, “Shake it Up,” belongs in any jukebox or home cd collection.

I need a friggin’ pipe wrench and a larger trash container, and the State Fair has opened which means the ponies are running. (Note: I will bet on any horse named “Corn Dog.”)

renovations

One of my chores now that baseball has ended (locally), is to remodel the bathroom in the original portion of our house. Not that it is in bad condition, but we just feel that it isn’t dated enough for a structure that was built in 1906.

The plan is to untile the walls, remove the linoleum from the floor and donate it to a museum, tile the floor, repaint the bathtub in keeping with the new color scheme, replace the “fixtures,” and deal with whatever surprises pop up.

And so it begins….

Day One – Got a good start on the project by taking all the “before” photographs. As illustrated in these photos, I’m going to have plenty of help on this project.

I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Or is that merely the reflection of my camera’s flash? Either way, it’s clearly time to grab a beer and plan the next phase.

new sensations

When it rains in New Mexico, it pours. No, I’m not talking about the weather, but rather the concert scene.

Following directly on the heels of the previously blogged DEVO concert, I find in my hands a pair of tickets to see Lou Reed perform at the Santa Fe Opera on the 16th. While there are very few things that could convince me to make the drive to Santa Fe, one of them is definitely Lou.



Although I wouldn’t presume to guess what Lou might decide to perform that evening, I am intrigued by recent mumblings that insist he is going to be performing his Berlin album live for the very first time in New York this December. Perhaps we’ll be treated to a preview of that! You never know what you’ll get with Lou though… perhaps a reading of the graphic version of Paul Auster’s City of Glass.

If I were given an opportunity to request one song, it would be Crazy Feeling, my favorite tune on Coney Island Baby. I would be tempted to request Street Hassle, but suspect the majority of the audience would want to beat me up afterwards. Of course, a request for Lou to perform Skynard’s Freebird would also be very funny (to me).

At any rate, you can bet your shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather that I will have plenty to write about following the concert.

practically joking

There’s really never a dull moment at the ballpark. For instance, here’s a photo I snapped of Albuquerque Isotopes outfielder Matt Cepicky ambushing catcher Nick Trzesniak with a jolt of ice water during batting practice Tuesday afternoon. Trzesniak would end up going 1 for 3 with a walk and an RBI during the game later that evening in which the Isotopes defeated the Nashville Sounds by a score of 7 to 2.

I enjoy the spirit Cepicky adds to the team chemistry. One of his game day routines is to bop around the Isotopes dugout immediately prior to the singing of the National Anthem placing smelling salts under the nose of anyone who fails to see him approaching… players, coaches, trainers, event staff, and yes, even camera operators. Matt always adds intriguing explanations for his actions- my favorite being, “This’ll help ya stay focused.”



I recently asked Matt what his plans for the off-season included. He replied that he would be undergoing knee surgery and rehab. No doubt Trzesniak will be spending his winter thinking of ways to get even with Cepicky for the water assault.

space junk 101

Did you feel the ground shaking along the Rio Grande Valley around 9:00 o’clock Thursday evening and wonder if the sky was falling, or perhaps that the region was experiencing an earthquake? If so, you weren’t alone. You needn’t waste time looking for answers at the U.S. Geological Survey’s Earthquake Hazards Program website as they offer no data or plausible explanation. Instead, continue reading right where you are to find out what happened.

Hundreds of people of all ages were present at the epicenter of the seismic event, standing, jumping and dancing in front of the stage in the Kiva Auditorium at the Albuquerque Convention Center as the 30-year-old punk-wave band DEVO performed live for the first time ever in the Duke City.

The memorable evening was opened with a short set by When in Rome, a band best know for their 1988 hit The Promise that was recently reborn when it was featured at the end of the film Napoleon Dynamite.

Following a brief intermission, the Psychedelic Furs marched onto the stage, opening with Love My Way. Richard Butler served as the grand marshal for the Furs hit parade that included Heartbreak Beat. Any student of 80s music would have assumed that the band would have performed Pretty in Pink before it was all said and done. Fear not… they closed their set with that number.

The remainder of the evening was pure DEVO from the lemon yellow drum set and the band’s tear-away chemical-protection suits to their cherry red plastic flower pot hats. Interestingly, when a band maintains a stage presence as gripping as DEVO’s, lighting technicians and smoke-machine operators can take a breather and enjoy the show along with everyone else. They simply aren’t needed.

A handful of obvious DEVOtees appeared to have been waiting a lifetime to see this particular concert. It seemed as if everyone lost control as the band unleashed a torrent of hit songs, including back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back performances of Girl U Want, Whip It, (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction, Uncontrollable Urge, Mongoloid, Blockhead and Jocko Homo. Undoubtedly, the regional power grid was strained as DEVO guitars, synthesizers and amplifiers greedily sucked electricity that was converted into waves of de-evolutionary messages that were sent crashing over the crowd with the force of a subliminal tsunami.

DEVO returned to the stage moments after attempting to close with a smashing rendition of Gates of Steel, and went on to rock the house with an energetic encore set that included Freedom of Choice, Wiggly World, Gut Feeling and Johnny B. Goode. For the finale, lead singer Mark Mothersbaugh donned a giant foam cowboy hat and a ridiculous Rollie Fingers mustache and bounced handfuls of nuclear green-colored super balls off the stage into the transfixed crowd. In short, it was an amazing show!

If you ever have an opportunity to see DEVO perform, even if it is another 30 years from now- jump on those tickets!

Later Spuds.

attack of the three-inch hornworms

one thousand swerves

don’t mess with the bull

Around the end of February, a friend gave me a Paul Gleason autograph after sharing a story of how he and his wife had run into him at a baseball card show a number of years before. Not only did I find Gleason’s fondness of baseball memorabilia interesting, I also was intrigued by him having told Marty that in spite of all the acting work he had done, practically everyone still recognized him for his role as Principal Richard Vernon in The Breakfast Club. Without a doubt, I would be part of that group.



I placed the autographed index card on my bulletin board where I keep material I think blog-worthy, figuring I’d get around to discussing it in the not too distant future. Then I got busy with spring training travels and the start of the regular season, as my general lack of postings indicates. Unfortunately it would take the actor’s recent death to make me find the time to share the autograph here.

I really don’t have anything to add about the man that can’t be found online. For example, here is a great photo of Gleason hamming it up with Fred Lynn.

Prior to becoming an actor, Gleason played some minor league baseball in the Cleveland Indians organization. Definitely worth reading about is Paul’s association with former Major Leaguer Mickey McDermott. (Trust me on this link.)

Of course Paul also played the role of Cushman in the classic Seinfeld episode when George Costanza decides to do and say the opposite of everything that he normally would. And who didn’t enjoy Gleason as Clarence Beeks in the film Trading Places.

One theory is that celebrity deaths often occur in threes. Certainly the news of Paul’s passing is enough to prevent me from surfing over to any news websites for the next several days as I dread reading the next obituary.

housekleaning

While leafing through a short stack of notes I had written to myself that were taking up space on my desk where I normally file my clutter, I found a list of silly phrases I overheard during Spring Training games in Arizona. I figure if I type them here, I will have a swell excuse to then visit my shredder.

Strangely enough, a question I overheard repeatedly during games was “What’s the score?” Even odder was that about half the time the person who replied also lacked a clue.

“Who’s playing?” was very popular. (shrug)

The battle cry among the faithful at Phoenix Municipal Stadium was, “Where’s Mark the Beer Guy?” (Seriously, even if you don’t click any of the other links, this one is a MUST!)

If I was given 50 cents for every time I heard “He’s only got MGD,” then “Forget THAT! I’ll wait for another vendor,” it would nearly have covered the price of a frosty beverage for myself.

My favorite overheard discussion was highlighted by the phrase, “No, YOU shut up!” That was during an exchange between a group of rowdy college-age kids and a woman sitting behind them in a wheelchair. When the ushers stepped in to investigate, one of the kids flashed a badge and indicated that everything was under control. Amazingly, that act bought them a full half-inning before the Tempe police were summoned to sort it all out.

Finally, the most commonly uttered word in the parking lots following any of the games, was “SHOTGUN!”

Speaking of baseball, if you are interested in seeing more of my work on websites that I don’t maintain, you should check out a photograph I took of Evan MacLane during the Arizona Fall League last November that has been published as part of an article on SheaBaseball.com. A starting pitcher for the Norfolk Tides, MacLane was recently named the International League’s pitcher of the week.

toy story - 2006

Of the many interesting items I observed in the garden this past week (dozens of newly hatched praying mantids, the first ripening strawberries of the season, my apparent conquering of three hills of vicious ants I’ve been battling for more than a year, loofa sponge seedlings poking up through the ground in the morning glory patch), none are as intriguing as this curious little find…



After brushing off enough dirt to realize that the tiny horseman was made from lead (and not stone), the first thing that popped into my brain was the late 1960s tune “One Tin Soldier.” Then I flipped the toy over to count the rider’s legs in order to determine if he was the resurrected nameless character from Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Steadfast Tin Soldier” (1838).

He isn’t.



I haven’t decided if this guy is really a soldier, some sort of knight or royalty, or just a dandy out for a Sunday ride. Perhaps it represents Paul Revere? Only the most brilliant scholars will scoff at my notion that the figurine is actually of the famously unknown Hessian trooper who would later become legendary by haunting Sleepy Hollow, rushing off to enlist in the Revolutionary War.

What I do know is that the figurine is hollow and was mass produced. It measures 35 mm from nose to tail by 27 mm hoof to head, and is approximately 8 mm thick. The bottom portion of the horse’s right rear leg is missing- possibly having broken off when separated from the base (assuming, of course, that it once had a base). No evidence of paint remains on the item.



A few Google searches revealed that there are TONS of websites dedicated to toy soldiering, lead miniatures, plastic army men, and scale modeling of famous and imaginary battle scenes. Although one or more of these sites potentially might lead to information about my historic artifact, truth be told, the shear number of them is practically overwhelming (at least during baseball season). Thus, I have emailed photos to a few historians I know, and forwarded my request to other archaeologists who hopefully will pass along the inquiry to historical specialists they work with. Perhaps this will result in a better starting point to determine the origin of this object.

Given that the toy lacks an obvious maker’s mark, I may never figure out who manufactured it, or when. Still, I wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that it is one countless toys produced by Louis Marx and Company, an American company that made millions of dollars selling toys, including inexpensive ones through dime stores (such as Woolworth’s for example) since opening for business in 1919.

Your comments are encouraged. As improbable as it seems, it would be very interesting to be able to associate this item with one of the previous homeowners.

On a side note, while researching this lead figurine I tripped over a line of long-unremembered toys from my youth that caused me to laugh like Syd Barrett. Do any of you still have one or more plastic Nutty Mads figurines in your toy box?

craft work orange

I thought I should add something here for a couple of reasons: A) I wouldn’t want the administrators tagging this account “inactive” and deleting all my hard work, and B) so readers will stop emailing me asking why I haven’t added anything to my blog lately.

I wish to announce that I’ve added another wacky product to the cyberworld.



If you happen to see one of these stickers on a car in front of you in traffic, I would think it safe to give them a slight tap with your car (or Hummer). Worst case… you slightly damage their rear bumper, and give them yet another excuse to draw their hot glue gun and impress you with their marksmanship.

If you must, you can purchase one or more of these stickers for yourself (or your co-workers) by following this link to my shop at CafePress. Perhaps I will get around to adding this item to my website in time for your Krismas shopping.

With my “I Gave at the Pumps” t-shirts selling like hotcakes, I can’t help but wonder just how well actual hotcakes might sell on CafePress.

By the way, I have added the Spring Training articles I wrote for XXL National Sports Daily to my website. You can download and read those articles for FREE. (Note: The articles are in the very popular .pdf format, so make sure you have the latest and greatest version of Adobe Acrobat installed on your computer before you read them.) I haven’t added any photos yet, so feel free to check back in the future if you are interested in seeing them.

Time to water the garden.

86 years

More from the “Did you know” department…

It became legal for Albuquerque women to vote on February 19, 1920 when New Mexico became the 32nd state to ratify the Suffrage Amendment.

Ethel doesn’t sleep here anymore

(My working title for this entry was “I Love Ethel,” but that was annoying even to me before the cyberink had begun to dry.)

Okay, so everyone knows that Vivian Vance (Ethel Mertz in the "I Love Lucy" television series) got her theatrical start in the Duke City. I was pleasantly surprised to learn that she lived in the Huning Highlands Neighborhood for the short time she was in the area. I wonder if you’ll discover anything surprising in the results of my archival research.

Born "Vivian Roberta Jones" in Cherryvale, Kansas on July 26, 1909, Vivian Vance was a founding member of the Albuquerque Little Theater after moving to the Rio Grande valley in 1928 and marrying Joseph Shearer Danneck on October 6th. According to historical documents, the Dannecks resided at 422 Coal Avenue East while Vivian performed at the KiMo Theater, portraying played a vamp in "This Thing Called Love" and a nun in "The Cradle Song."

Although the Dannecks weren’t divorced until April 20, 1931, it appears that Miss Jones was already living by herself at 409 South Arno as early as 1930. Having taken the name "Vance" as suggested by her dramatics teacher, Vivian was a fixture on the Albuquerque stage until she moved to New York in 1932. It seems that Vance also earned a little spending money by working as a saleslady at Rosenwald’s Department Store in 1931.


The Coal Street residence seems to have been demolished, yet the home at 409 Walter Street SE remains intact.

Obviously, Vivian Vance did very well for herself after leaving the region. Vance’s beloved “I Love Lucy” character “Ethel Mertz” did return to Albuquerque during season 4. “Ethel’s Home Town” (episode 113) originally aired on CBS on January 31, 1955. When the Mertzes and Ricardos visit the Duke City during that show, the locals are under the impression that Ethel is on HER way to Hollywood. Hilarity follows. One of the funniest lines is the episode is delivered by Fred Mertz (William Frawley) who declares “She’s big everywhere!”

Vivian died in Belvedere, California on August 17, 1979. As of this writing, there have been no confirmed reports of sightings of Vivian Vance’s ghost anywhere in Albuquerque.

Here’s a photo of an interesting item I discovered on the ground in front of Vance’s house on Arno. I’ll leave it up to you readers to decide if Vivian is trying to tell us anything.

duke city valentine dining

Just when you think I have a timely post, you discover that I don't.

Did you know that Albuquerque’s old Tic Toc Diner, originally located at 601 Osuna Road NW from about 1947 to 2000, is now located in Lake City, Colorado? Reports indicate that this classic Valentine Diner (serial number 538) is still appreciated by all who visit it.

xxl national sports daily

No doubt about it, getting a call up to the majors is a HUGE deal; even for a photojournalist.

I just found out that I have been selected by XXL National Sports Daily to cover the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim* as they prepare this March for the 2006 Major League Baseball season.

What better way to spend the final weeks before the Isotopes open the 2006 season than soaking up some rays and Cracker Jack in the Valley of the Sun while enjoying Cactus League Spring Training games? My duties will include scoring the contests, compiling game notes, conducting player interviews, writing feature articles and supplying interesting photographs for the recently launched website. You will be able to follow my take on the Angels’ progress all March via FREE downloadable .pdf files available on the XXL National Sports Daily website.

This wild assignment is a result of a connection I made during my trip to the 2005 Arizona Fall League.

town house crackers

Our gang caught a giant wave over to the Town House Lounge (3911 Central Avenue NE) this past Friday evening to check out some charbroiled longhorns and ice-cold longnecks. Initially we congregated in the patio section that fronts Central Avenue where we were informed that there would be no entertainment that evening. Luckily, the waitress only meant in that section of the lounge!

Eventually we moved into the dining room portion of the restaurant where we were greeted by warm lighting softly reflecting off fantastic red Naugahyde booths that make everyone feel like Frank Sinatra. That said, the room belonged to one of Albuquerque’s hardest working entertainers, the iconic Freddie (Kekaulike) Baker.



If you know in advance that you are going to see Freddie perform, it would serve you well to be prepared to join Mrs. Baker as her husband dives into Tiny Bubbles. If you fight her, she’ll only make your life difficult.



Service was first-rate, while the food was both delicious and plentiful. Customers also receive a complimentary shot of brandy at the conclusion of every meal. How kool is that?

As for the restrooms… well, they do have running water. A person more clever than I coined the term “genurinal” to describe the no-name thirsty urinals present in the men’s room.

Although the Town House Lounge offers abundant parking in rear, you may decide to park in front so you can snap photos of the giant cow before you go in. See you there!

fashionably historic

I like history. My wife likes fashion. Sometimes that results in a skirmish over the remote control that sends both cats scurrying for cover resembling the expulsion of the French Acadians from Nova Scotia after the British captured Fort Beauséjour.

Now and again, movies and television programs come along that appeal to us both. Most recently, I discovered a true gem entitled Fashion Horizons- a 20-minute film that documents a trip of four trendy Hollywood starlets as they tour 1940s Albuquerque, New Mexico and Phoenix, Arizona.

The movie includes some interesting footage shot at the original Albuquerque airport and the luxurious Alvarado Hotel where the jet-setting hipsters freshen up before bopping over to Isleta Casino only to be disappointed to discover that Indian gaming had yet to gain a foothold in the Rio Grande Valley. Viewers should be cautioned to not allow the political incorrectness of the early 1940s present in the film to take away from the tender moment shared between Margaret Hayes and child author Louise Albieta (I am a Pueblo Indian Girl).

Other (long-deceased) Paramont Pictures beauties in the film include Virginia Dale, Esther Fernandez, Mary Martin and Martha O’Driscoll. Also noteworthy is a flyover of Acoma Pueblo in a TWA Stratoliner as the gals make their way to the Valley of the Sun. I was impressed how the director managed to cram the feel of an entire lazy Phoenix afternoon into the second half of the short. Admittedly missing the significance of the fashion show at the Camelback Inn, all I learned from that portion of the movie is that “Smoking is cool.”

The trip concludes with a flyover of the Grand Canyon when it becomes obvious that narrator Wendell Niles has assumed full control over the plane’s liquor cart.

Not convinced? DOWNLOAD Fashion Horizons and see for yourself.

eye in the sky

Don’t worry; this entry isn’t about the Alan Parson’s Project (although that I Robot is a damned fine album).

Following up on a blog entry by my friend Chantal at the Duke City Fix, I entered my address in a beta version of the Windows Live Local website- mostly just to see how it compares to Google Earth. For one, the name is noticeably less catchy. Other than that, it is currently only useful if you live in one of a dozen large US cities. Both are fun to mess around with.



While checking out the various views of the property, I wondered when the images were gathered. Then I was dumbfounded when I realized that the views to the west and east had captured me in the process of loading two truckloads of weeds and garden waste into my pickup truck so I could haul it to a city dump in a single trip. Strangely enough, today marks the 10-month anniversary of the date (March 23, 2005) when I actually completed that chore. Luckily big brother managed to document me in the process of actually doing something constructive instead of hanging around in the garden searching for praying mantids or hanging out at the racetrack.

I have only a rough idea when the other two images were captured. The view to the south was obviously taken very early on a Thursday morning (based on the shadows being cast from the trash containers lining the street). All I can tell about the view from to the north is that it was taken not long after March 14th.

Also, in order to prevent any number of readers from emailing and inquiring about the image included here, it is a Photoshop-altered compilation of screen captures I made using a trial version of SnagIt software. (As always, don’t forget to “click” on the photo to see the full-size image!)

where have you gone miss nellie bly?

I find it difficult to believe that 116 years have passed since Nellie Bly (born Elizabeth Jane Cochran), a 23-year-old reporter for the New York World visited Albuquerque on January 22, 1890 during her record-breaking trip around the world. Given that she completed her trip a full seven days quicker than the fictional Phineas Fogg in Jules Verne's Around the World in 80 Days, one would think that Miss Bly could have spent more than TWO MINUTES in the Duke City. As it was, she didn't even have enough time to disembark from the Atlantic & Pacific train in order to purchase a burrito from a vendor outside the Alvarado Depot.



I uncovered this historical tidbit recently while conducting research for a special project that I look forward to sharing with you in the not-too-distant-future. I also discovered an intriguing Nellie Bly website that contains images of a handful of Victorian trade cards that used Nellie’s globe-trotting image to promote canned goods, clothing, and (my favorite) Dr. Morse’s Indian Root Pills. Mostly, I was astounded to learn that the New York World actually published a parlor game called "Around the World with Nellie Bly.” (Good luck finding that on eBay!)

Obviously, Albuquerque is a very different place today that it was when Miss Bly breezed through. I can’t think of a better way to illustrate the changes than to point you toward this very cool map of Albuquerque that was hand-drawn by artist Augustus Koch in 1886. The map has been reprinted a number of times, and was even reproduced as a 12” by 16” image for the 1973 calendar distributed by the Ackerman-Grant Realty Company.

If you wish, you may purchase a print from Photos to Go in various sizes and paper stock starting at $15.95. I’m definitely going to have to pick one up since the map includes the location where our house was constructed two decades later.

how lucky can one get?

When asked, “What’s a good way to spend a three-day weekend?” I’ll either ignore the person, or reply, “Hunting for decent dive bars.” Ever since I first noticed the wonderful sign advertising the Yucca Lounge at 114 Wyoming NE just north of Central Avenue, I thought it might be a tavern worthy of dropping a few bucks. Unfortunately, by the time I got around to checking the place out, it was too late.

The Yucca Lounge might still be a great place to hang out with friends and enjoy a few drinks and laughs, but you should know up front that the place is now decidedly BYOE(verything)… beers, stools, neon lights, jukebox, walls, roof, etc. I have no idea when this place was demolished, or even when/if anyone plans on returning to the location and hauling off the remaining debris.

I would definitely like to install the existing sign in my garden to inspire future agricultural projects, so I thought I’d better begin drafting a proposal to submit to Albuquerque's Landmarks and Urban Conservation Commission to find out what objections they might have to possible relocation.



One might be temped to ask, “Where’s a good place to write such a proposal?” Of course I would ignore such a question and head directly to the lounge at the Lucky 66 Bowl (6132 4th St NW), where I could clear my mind and begin scrawling a few words onto paper.



Dewars Pub offers a sort of crow’s nest lounge that overlooks some 40 lanes of humanity. You sort of feel like you are located in the pilothouse of a large boat- a paddlewheel riverboat in search of the mysterious island of video poker machines, if you must. One can look down over the starboard side and watch people playing ridiculous dancing-themed arcade games while their friends look on with amazed faces. There is no visible jukebox at Dewars Pub, but that isn’t a problem as long as you are in the mood for 80s rock ballads that are pumped out of the sound system. Dewars Pub does feature live music every so often, and karaoke even more frequently.



Service was friendly. Two bottles of beer will run you $4.50 (plus tip). Rum is available for pirates. Smoking is encouraged, and mullets are embraced.

A portion of the floor is covered with fantastic Route 66-themed carpet featuring a tribute to Old Town Albuquerque complete with an image of flamenco dancers. All expenses were spared when the restrooms were being furnished. The low-flow Mansfield urinals are pretty much what you would expect to find in a non-descript "customer's only" public restroom.

All said, Dewars Pub is a decent-enough place to drink a few beers. If you bowl, then you should add Lucky 66 Bowl to your “Must Visit” list.

lindy's diner

While walking to the main library downtown this afternoon, I noticed another movie in production. With winds gusting in 35 mile per hour range, I didn’t bother to nose around and try to figure out what was being filmed inside Lindy’s Diner. Considering the high volume of trucks, equipment and people milling about, I believe it is safe to assume that it was a movie and not a commercial.



I would be willing to wager that the scene will be “explosive,” if not completely gut-wrenching. The anticipation is killing me.

get lost and found

I recently undertook what I’m sure will prove to be a long and difficult project, but will ultimately make servicing our 98-year-old home a less challenging task. When we bought the house, a ton of construction debris was observed in the crawlspace including bricks, lumber, shingles, various types of pipe and lord only knows what else. It was recommended that someone should remove this stuff from under the house. As it turns out, I’ve already managed to put off this task for over a year.

So far I have removed ten 5-gallon buckets of sediment and three 5-gallon buckets of bricks and lumber fragments. Boy, is it ever a dirty job! Unlike an archaeological excavation conducted outdoors, it is proving nearly impossible to avoid getting dust everywhere in the house.

I have uncovered a couple of interesting artifacts already. The first is a plastic Hot Wheels “watch-style” game that features a picture of a school bus on the face. It has two BBs inside that you try to maneuver into two tiny holes. The game is mesmerizing. I briefly attempted to find out more information about the toy on the Internet, but my Google efforts came up empty.

Another interesting artifact is a weight/fortune ticket from one of those old penny scales at F.W. Woolworth that was in operation at 317-319 Central Avenue SW from 1915 to the 1980s (?). The ticket was produced by the International Ticket Scale Corporation in New York (Pat. No. 1610893). Unfortunately, there is no date on the ticket itself, but it is clear that it belonged to a small person as they weighed in at 112 pounds. I would hazard a guess that a penny for a fortune would be an expenditure too frivolous for Lettie Watson-Mize, so possibly the ticket represents the disposable income of her daughter, Henrietta.



I’m also left wondering how many Albuquerqueans weighed themselves following a meal at the Woolworth’s lunch counter, then tucked their fortune behind the infamous Hilda Schrader Whitcher sample Social Security card in their new E.H. Ferree wallet. (You can bet I will let you know if I locate one of those!)

Although the Internet has failed to yield much useful diagnostic information, my searches have unearthed a few clues. One interesting tidbit is an image of a 1927 model International Ticket Scale Corporation Scale Height and Weight Meter on exhibit at Dallas Museum of Art. Neat, huh?

I also discovered an interesting website for the International Arcade Museum. They don’t have much info on their International Ticket Scale page, so I think I will submit this image of my found ticket in hopes that it will result in future information sharing from some knowledgeable old-timer.

The fortune reads, “You are very shrewd in business and are thoroughly capable of managing any large enterprise.” Having pondered this discovery, I have decided to consider it an omen indicating that I will be successful in my quest to clean up the crawlspace, and excavate trenches that will allow better access to the plumbing and electrical elements. Best-case scenario, I discover an old tobacco tin containing a 1909 American Tobacco Company T-206 Honus Wagner baseball card.

only the shadow (of I-40) knows

Sometimes even the most organized people get so caught up in the blur of holiday parties, travels, card sending and gift wrapping that they lose track of time and space- only to discover themselves wondering how they are to know exactly when the Christmas season is truly over. I would have to say when you find yourself sitting at the bar in the Silver Fox Lounge on a Monday afternoon watching a waitress leisurely taking down stands of twinkle lights, tinsel, and assorted ornaments, it is probably time to admit that you have survived yet another holiday season.



You claim you’ve never been to the Silver Fox Lounge? Then you are missing out on one of the Duke City’s finest drinking establishments. Although “they” say that you should avoid judging books by their covers, this is one bar that should be judged by its wonderful signage at the corner of Haines and 4th St NW. Inside, patrons are treated to fast and friendly service, and new customers (or “irregulars”) receive hearty handshakes from the owner.

Located along the pre-1929 alignment of historic Route 66, the Silver Fox Lounge is in all likelihood the best place in Albuquerque to listen to “Love Hangover” spilling from a jukebox and reflecting off a small disco ball before being absorbed by a larger than life-sized painting of a nude woman (who reminds me of Elly Mae Clampett). Walls are sparsely decorated with framed photographs of Elvis, collages of saloon regulars and posters announcing unfathomable happy hour deals.

A small, low stage stands at the ready for live performances by local bands and the low-density of television sets elevates the Silver Fox Lounge above the numerous downtown sports bars. Restrooms are bright and clean by all standards, and the men’s room contains a state-of-the-art 3.8-liter Toto urinal. Large round booths afford great views of the tavern’s billiards tables. The floor is covered with a combination of new tile and festive “Stinko de Mayo” carpeting.

The Silver Fox Lounge also offers a full bar menu from 7:30 am to 9:00 pm for customers desiring more nutrition than just beer. What I’m saying is, the next time you find yourself driving by the Silver Fox Lounge, do not hesitate to dive in. Entrance is on the side. Don’t be surprised if you spot a bumper sticker in the parking lot around back that reads “What Would Scooby Do?”