Gus Pedrotty—Gus, as he likes to be known—stopped by Alibi Headquarters to discuss a bid for mayor that began as idealistic—and some would say unlikely—but has since been transformed into one of the more vital and remarkable candidacies that have passed through this high desert city in ages.
When it comes to water conservation, no one can deny that Albuquerque has come a long way in a short time. Since the U.S. Geological Survey's 1993 report shattered our illusions about having a never ending supply of fresh water in the aquifer, the city has rapidly implemented a number of ambitious—and absolutely necessary—reforms in water use.
Whatever your beat—drugs, arson or simple water violations—one unfortunate rule always seems to apply: Some people never learn. No matter how often they're slapped with fees, fines and penalties, these ne'er do wells continue to break the same law that landed them in trouble in the first place. By now, Carol Edwards, one of only three full-time "water cops" in the city, knows these repeat offenders all too well. Every day she confronts their reluctance to curb water waste. For her sake and the sake of our beleaguered aquifer, it's time to introduce them to their friends, neighbors and the city at large.
Welcome to the most read and most trusted column in Albuquerque. That's right, Thin Line is a no spin zone, where we report, you decide. Some people say Thin Line is the most fair and balanced journalism you will find anywhere in the United States. And that's a good thing, because other news outlets, unlike Thin Line, are so skewed and biased, you and me practically puke at the sight of it.
Dateline: England—In what sounds like a textbook example of “adding insult to injury,” a 28-year-old man, who shot himself in the groin after drinking 15 pints of beer and stuffing a sawed-off shotgun down his pants, was sentenced to five years in jail recently. David Walker underwent emergency surgery after the March 26 incident in Dinnington. Prosecuting lawyer Andrew Hatton told the court that Walker had gone home to get the shotgun after arguing in the pub with lifelong friend Stuart Simpson about whose turn it was to buy a beer. Walker retrieved the illegal shotgun and returned to the pub, only to find it closed. At that point, Walker apparently discharged the weapon on accident. “He had it shoved down his trousers,” Hatton said. “After the shotgun had discharged, he placed it in a rubbish bin and crawled home.” Walker told officers he was so drunk he had no idea how he managed to shoot himself or why he had gone home for the gun. Walker was sentenced to a mandatory five years thanks to recent legislation regarding banned weapons. Tests are continuing to determine if Walker would be left infertile.
Documentary Debut—The Santa Fe Film Festival will sponsor a special screening of Zana Briski and Ross Kaufman's award-winning documentary Born into Brothels this Thursday, July 22, at 7:30 p.m. The screening will take place at The Screen on the College of Santa Fe campus. Born into Brothels captures the life of an unforgettable group of children. Feisty, resilient and wickedly funny, these kids are the offspring of the prostitutes who occupy Calcutta's red light district. Determined to evade their doomed future, they embark on a transformational journey with New York-based photographer Zana Briski, who teaches them the explore their world through the art of photography. This exuberant, unsentimental film nabbed both the Documentary Award and the Audience Award at this year's Sundance Film Festival, and looks to be a sellout event; so get there early. Tickets are $9 and are available at the door (1600 St. Michael's Drive).
If you like your punk rock with a generous side of pretentiousness, then Austin's—by way of Paris according to the band's bio—Les Messieurs du Rock will more than please you on Friday night, July 16, at the Atomic Cantina. Other Austin bands like And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead and Those Peabodys are well-known for their asshole-ish swagger, but Les Messieurs make both of those bands seem as polite and down-to-Earth as Hootie and the Blowfish.
When I first began to play this disc of centuries-old Tibetan Buddhist chant by monks praying in the pine-forested foothills of northern India's Kangra Valley, I naively thought I could use it as background music. Forget it. These chants are too powerful. The reason this disc won the 2004 Grammy Award for Best Traditional World Music Album is simple: It's the real thing.
Like so few musicians today, San Francisco rockers Communiqué remember the nonpejorative meaning of pop: buoyant melodies, clear, repetitive structures and a musical sense of humor. Granted, this group's roots still cling to emo sensibilities, which emerge occasionally as a hint of over-earnestness in the lyrics, but their sharp musicianship forgives all. New wave synths tastefully enhance the band's solid sound without feeling contrived or extraneous—a real feat—while the songwriting can bring a smile to your face long after the record's stopped playing. This is the true essence of pop.
I'm a pig man myself. By that, I don't mean I'm half-pig, half-man—despite what a couple bitter ex-girlfriends might tell you. All I mean is that I'm partial to pigs. I like them. I feel an affinity for them, so to speak.
Why is it that the best fruits for making pies happen to ripen when only a complete idiot would be willing to turn on her oven? One particularly cruel Alibi staffer keeps bringing in peaches from his yard. This morning I noticed that he brought in just about enough for a nice, deep-dish peach pie. Mmm, peach pie. I like to toss my sliced peaches with just a touch of almond extract instead of vanilla. And in the summer I think pie tastes best the next day, especially if it's been refrigerated. There's nothing like a slice of cold pie for breakfast! If the oven is a no-go, you can always slice fresh peaches and top them with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Try making a peachy milkshake or a smoothie with yogurt and honey. Purée the peaches and freeze them in popsicle molds or little paper cups. Soak slices in bourbon and brown sugar; eat the peaches and sip the bourbon on the porch after a nice meal of fried chicken. Make it up as you go along! Just stay away from the stove.
Pat and Terry Keene will relinquish management of Bien Shur to Sandia Pueblo next month. The Keenes, who also own Artichoke Café, have run Sandia Casino's upscale Bien Shur restaurant for three and a half years. According to Sandia Pueblo Gov. Stuwart Paisano, the parting of ways was amicable. "Our relationships with the Keenes has been fabulous. We were skeptical at the beginning when we started the restaurant, so we solicited the experts [the Keenes] to come in and manage it for us. They were scared too but everyone did a tremendous job." So why spoil the fun? "Growth is putting a damper on it," he says. The pueblo will operate Bien Shur through the end of 2004 when it will be closed for 10 months of renovations that will transform the area into a dining room for the casino's expanded 500-seat buffet restaurant. Construction is already underway for an adjacent hotel that will provide a new home for Bien Shur as well as another proposed restaurant. Paisano said that while the pueblo was interested in attracting national chain restaurants, those restaurants may be located inside the casino or on pad sites nearby. When construction is completed next year, there will be five restaurants in or next to the casino. "We're very interested in diversifying away from gaming and offering a well-rounded type of dining experience," the governor said. (GD)