Tropicana Havana—As the New Mexico air turns frigid, your imagination will soon start to wander to warmer, more tropical locales. No need to whip out the plastic to pay for a flight to the Caribbean. Just drive on up to Santa Fe for the annual benefit for the Museum of International Folk Art's education and outreach programs. This Sunday, Nov. 4, mojitos and other exotic drinks will be served along with grub from a host of Santa Fe's finest caterers. Live music will be provided by Nosotros. It's a hundred bucks per person, but $75 of that is tax deductible and it's for a very good cause. Doors open at 6:30 p.m. Tickets may be purchased by calling (505) 982-6366 ext. 112.

Throughout most of the history of Western art, it's generally been assumed that good art cannot and should not be grotesque. In the last century or so, however, that guiding principle has largely been thrown out the window. These days, the most interesting contemporary art often contains at least some element of aesthetic deformity. A couple years ago SITE Santa Fe even hosted a biennial called Disparities and Deformations: Our Grotesque specifically to celebrate art that is fantastically incongruous, even ugly.

France had Marie Antoinette, England Queen Elizabeth. But in the pantheon of great female leaders from history, Doña Inés Suárez of Chile might have been the most adventuresome of all. Born in Plascencia, Spain, in 1507, she came to the Americas at the age of 30 looking for a lost husband, who was lured to the New World in search of false gold. Inés never found him, but stumbled into the arms of Pedro de Valdivia, the Spanish conqueror of Chile.

The seed for Home Ground: Language for an American Landscape was planted when National Book Award winning author Barry Lopez went to the University of Oregon library to look up the definition of the geographical term “blind creek.” To Lopez’ surprise, “No one had ever published a dictionary of American landscape terms.” Though Lopez had neither the time nor the inclination to take on such a daunting project, the idea stayed with him. “It occurred to me … that I might invite a group of writers—as opposed to geographers—to define these words and give people a feeling for this language.”

It is I, a humble reporter and grudging "Star Trek" fan, who worked more than a month in advance to set up an interview with you. Yes, Sulu, your real name is George Takei, and you do not utter dramatic statements in your space jammies all day long while your captain gets it on with hot alien women. I understand all this—but only barely.