Try It Yourself
As the owners of Jinja Bar and Bistro, we were surprised and disappointed by Jennifer Wohletz' review of our new restaurant in Albuquerque [Restaurant Review, Jan. 11-17]. Her article had all the subtlety, care and concern of a drive-by shooting. In fact, the angry, self-absorbed tone of the article said more about her than it did about our restaurant.
We founded Jinja four years ago with the personal goal of making our food fresh, from scratch, with the best, most authentic ingredients we could find. Our menu was created from the dishes we have enjoyed most in our travels in this country, Europe and in Asia. We take pride in our food, our people and the close relationships we have created with our guests.
Ultimately, our success as a small business will be based on our attention and focus on our guests and we would invite the readers of the Alibi to try Jinja and to judge for themselves.
Tom and Lesley Allin
For the Rich
[Re: Newscity, “Red Alert!” Jan. 25-31] It doesn't surprise me that ordinary citizens face charges for having the audacity to demand an audience with Sen. Domenici. Do they think this is a government of the people, for the people and by the people? How naïve.
Why should we be surprised when the wrong T-shirt bars you from hearing the president speak, or when the mother of a casualty of war is left standing in a ditch because she wants to speak to the president? It's a sad fact of life that our representatives no longer feel the need to represent us.
This has become a government of the rich, for the rich and by the rich. So it seems that if you want to see your representative, have a check in hand.
If I am wrong (and I hope I am), where is Sen. Domenici? Has he come forward to speak to The Elevator Nine? Or will he leave them standing in the ditch?
Run a Red for Meth
I was appalled to discover in Marisa Demarco's “From Prying Eyes” [Feature, Jan. 25-31] that $250,000 of the money taken from red light runners and speeders was use to “fight” meth.
What are these new cameras really for—keeping Albuquerque safe from “careless” drivers or keeping Albuquerque “safe” from the freedoms it should never have been stripped of in the first place?
It's pretty sad that not until another prohibition of leisure and creative expression—or the complete eradication of leisure and creative expression—are people going to realize they have woken up into the worst nightmare imaginable and that we and our fellow citizens were the true enemies in the war against happiness—not meth.
Meth can be just as “good” as everything else when used in a healthfully balanced and responsible manner and just as “bad” when used irresponsibly or excessively ... so why should we “fight” and “kill” meth just because it requires the same eduction and understanding everything else requires to be used in a beneficial way?
All the propaganda and lies used by our government and media to “fight” meth and destroy the lives of it users make me sick and are just more proof that they use shameful, coercive and pathetic tactics to achieve their own selfish, soulless agendas.
Shame on the City of Albuquerque for helping to further fuel this “suck as much of the life and love out of everything so we can get others to produce as much as possible for ourselves” machine ... and thank you, Marisa and everyone at the Alibi, for your time and energy spent bringing us the facts!
Lost of Luster
[RE: Letters, “A Broken Woman Breaks the Law,” Jan. 25-31]
Child of the Universe
Who is anything but lack.
I can't take away the low of a particular day,
Or the shades of your life,
Or feeling like forever for now.
I read your letter
And it brought tears to my eyes
To read your self assigned descriptor
There is a grain,
No matter how small
Or how hidden under the work of life,
In each of us.
The Dawn of Suntran
Lillian and I are both in our 80s. Lillian is three years this side of 90! We've lived here on the Westside at the same address for more than 27 years. In that time we have watched the Suntran service go in the tank here on the Westside.
Many years ago we had an all-day bus line from Cottonwood Mall that came through Taylor Ranch, down Coors to Bridge street, then east into town, finally terminating at the Air Force Base and accessing Lovelace and the VA Hospital from Gibson. It was bus No. 9. It's long gone!
We had a neighborhood bus line on Old Coors Drive way back that took a left on Gonzales Road and would drop us off at the top of the hill for shopping at Albertsons or Smith's or Walgreens. It's long gone!
We even had a No. 26 Los Volcanos Circulator from Central Avenue that stopped at the only Senior Center west of the River. It's gone!
And the beat goes on. We get Rapid Ride, except it won't stop at Old Coors Drive.
Like so many seniors our age, we no longer drive or own a car. We can only walk, use Suntran, or make day-before reservations for a taxi.
I tried this morning to bring all of this to the attention of Greg Payne, the “Rah, Rah Kid” for Suntran, while he was on the KKOB 770 Radio. The program director put me on and Greg put me on the air. But before I could get started with the above list, he cut me off! He can't stand the truth! The guy hung up on me!
Look at the Suntran map in your phone book. The entire Eastside is criss-crossed with bus lines. Look at the same map and see what we on the Westside have. The map speaks for itself.
So, Greg, go dream your dreams, but admit reality. Westside bus service stinks! All this after 27 years here. We don't have 27 years left.
Charles and Lillian Chodl
President Bush finally admitted to global warming, to the need for cutting back on oil consumption, on using homegrown substitutes for energy production, and the need for better education and health care. But he could not admit the obvious. Why couldn't he have stated matter-of-factly that he had learned something from failure in Iraq—that military might is not the solution to quelling terrorists, much less saving us from dependence on foreign oil?
Legislators need to oppose his military agenda and quash any plans for military strikes as terror prevention.
Let's face it. Terrorism is a mindset based on warped ideas and attitudes that reacts with desperate means, including suicide bombing and indiscriminate carnage. Changing that mindset is the key to diminishing this insanity.
Joining with sane individuals in every country to identify those who are sunk in this despair, preventing their acquiring the means to terrorize and stopping the spread of their false ideology is the strategy needed.
If injustice or domination is the trigger which pushes them into their barbarous acts, the injustice must be righted. If it's false principles or hatred that drives them, physical coercion won't change things.
The policy change needed is diplomacy, recognizing the common good and needs of every country. It begins with preparing for peace, not war.
Pass the Lard
I'd like to [encourage] more discussion about lard [RE: Food for Thought, "A Big Fat Headache," Jan. 25-31]. I also groan—sometimes literally—over the trend for health-conscious bakers, such as the Flying Star and Whole Foods, turning to canola oil, which is often pure poison for those with fibromyalgia, environmental illness or multiple chemical sensitivity.
Lard, often highly prized for its purity by gourmet cooks, comes from around the kidneys of pigs. The counterpart from cows is tallow. Both are saturated fats, and while modern medicine blames saturated fats for obesity, heart disease, diabetes and a variety of other ills, evidence is that may be malarkey, since lard has long been a staple of New Mexican and Native American cooking.
One has only to look at early 20th-century photos at the Indian pueblos to see what a skinny, fit lot they were. While they may have been falling like flies of heart disease in their 80s and 90s, diabetes, according to early records from government health workers, was not a problem until the late 20th century.
Meanwhile, canola may save your heart, but what'll it do to your liver and intestines, since canola is a bioremediation plant known for its ability to scarf up impurities—including some nasty toxins—in the soil? That's why my animal-sciences major daughter is taught at her university to not feed canola to farm animals about to be slaughtered.
So, pass the butter, and hand me a yummy lard-soaked tortilla, as I cannot stand another canola oil-induced migraine.
Honest Tears with the Don
I am glad to shed tears freely from my heart for my loved ones living or dead. When a man feels ashamed and afraid to weep, his sadness can become depression. A man's depression often explodes as rage—cursing, yelling, hitting his family and friends.
Many parents stupidly tell their young sons, “Men do not cry.” That is a damn lie! A wise man is not ashamed to be seen crying—expressing his deep love and grief. A wise man enjoys both his orgasms in passionate, romantic sex and his orgasms of shedding tears. A wise man is not ashamed of his honest tears from the depths of his heart.
When a man conquers his emotional constipation and releases his sorrow and love in tears, he feels better, he lives better! A man who sheds tears freely with no shame when he is sober he is much less likely to curse, yell and hit his family and friends. He also is much less likely to get addicted to booze and other drugs.
• In last week’s performance review, “Go Bluefish,” the production’s director, Kathryn Wood, was mistakenly listed as the playwright in the event information blurb. Last Summer at Bluefish Cove is a play by Jane Chambers.
• In last week's feature, "Nobody Likes A Ticket," the number given to the Alibi of how many tickets had been issued from red-light cameras was a couple months out of date. Since the installation of the first cameras in May, 2005, 77,000 tickets have been issued.
Letters should be sent with the writer’s name, address and daytime phone number via e-mail to firstname.lastname@example.org. They can also be faxed to (505) 256-9651. Letters may be edited for length and clarity, and may be published in any medium; we regret that owing to the volume of correspondence we cannot reply to every letter.
WhyABQ: Phase II at National Hispanic Cultural Center
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