On Friday, March 4, State Historian Rick Hendricks talks about the books Spanish colonists were reading in the year that Shakespeare’s First Folio was printed. (Shakespeare may have read them, too!) A Free First Friday Evening event. Free admission 5–8 pm at New Mexico History Museum
Sustainable Local Agriculture at Casa San Ysidro
On Saturday, February 13 at 1:30pm the public is invited to a free program,
"Food, Farms, Friends," explaining the new partnership between three valued community organizations—NM Land Conservancy, the ARCA and Casa San Ysidro—designed to promote sustainable local agriculture.
This year, ARCA will commence farming the nearly two acre Heritage Field at Casa San Ysidro, fulfilling the Museum's intent to preserve New Mexican heritage by allowing the Museum to keep the Heritage Field agriculturally productive and expand Casa San Ysidro's educational programming and community involvement to include local agriculture.
The program is co-hosted by the Corrales Historical Society and will be held in the Old Church located across the street from Casa San Ysidro: The Gutierrez/Minge House (973 Old Church, Corrales) From 1pm-4pm. Free open house tours and blacksmithing demonstrations at the historic Casa San Ysidro. The public is invited to learn more about these three organizations and explore the history of agriculture in the Rio Abajo area of New Mexico.
For more information about this program and the historic Casa San Ysidro, visit cabq.gov/
There is something wrong with waiting for the Sun-Tran bus number eleven at seven in the morning thought Charlie Jones as he dragged upon a Camel straight and adjusted the band on his watch. A couple of pigeons wandered over and he threw them each ample quantities of the three-day-old Allsups burrito buried in his coat pocket.
Jones was wearing stuff from his father's closet. There was something about that woolen cowboy-style suit jacket and the bolo tie—a turquoise and coral affair that depicted the Zuni Sun God—that made Charlie itchy and paranoid.
—Someone else wore this stuff around Burque thirty years ago and now it's my turn, he mumbled to the small birds.
The Lomas bus followed a wide path made from concrete and dinosaur juice and ended up on the edge of the mountains, a place nearby to Charlie's destination. On board, Jones read through his notes for the day. Once in a while, he looked out the window. The bus drove through places that used to be open range, filled with sage and snakes and the ruins of cars that never made it to Califas.
—So Tony y la familia settled in Barelas, a passenger across the aisle gravely intoned.
Charlie got out of the bus after it crossed Juan Tabo and walked the rest of the way to the high school. The place was mostly painted purple. There were also about three hundred or so depictions of lions—some sculptural—
—The school mascot left its spoor everywhere, Jones whispered reverently.
As Charlie marched through the administrator’s area on the way to his classroom, he was mistaken for a student by the new community resource officer, a man who had just moved to Burque from New Jersey—looking for something he just knew was hidden somewhere in the sprawling western lands. His name was Dwight.
Jones produced his faculty ID. He gave the old man a solemn pat on the back, thanking him for his vigilance and incomparable public service. The two men wandered away from the other satisfied and confident about their ability to communicate with individuals from outside their respective subcultures.
It was still early; Charlie stopped by the teacher's lounge. He had a Sony Walkman in his bag. Jones was about to activate side two of the new Radiohead album when Bob Baca, the biology teacher appeared. Bob began chatting about invertebrates in a very excited tone and then with no small amount of verbal craft segued loquaciously and nearly seamlessly into a diatribe about the wonders of religion.
—A single dude like you ought to give church a try, said the biology teacher, inducing a sense of mock frenzy in Charlie’s fingers, which were unable to flip the cassette tape over at that precise moment due to an overwhelming sense of ennui in the rest of his body.
He reached his room, unlocked the door and activated the switch on the wall. Lights fluttered to life and computers booted. Students began to wander in. One of them asked Charlie if it was true that he was a communist and let his summer school students read Chairman Mao's little red book last year. Charlie waved off the question and made sure he stood with his hand over heart when they played the Star Spangled banner over the intercom that morning.
Jones gave a lesson about how technology was influencing rock music. One of his students, Zach, jumped out of his seat near the end of the talk, and began belting out "Destination Anywhere," by Bon Jovi while gesturing madly at the students in the back of the room. After a couple of verses, he retreated—funky, outrageous and parade-style through the classroom door, never seen again.
During the scheduled lunch break, Charlie sat behind his desk and played Oregon Trail on the Apple IIe. Afterward he spent the afternoon discussing a relatively new thing called the world wide web with a group of final-year students who he believed were probably going to end up designing nuclear weapons or implementing carnivorous global marketing strategies.
On the way out to the bus stop at the end of the day, he nearly tripped over Bob Baca. Jones was looking down, trying to find the rewind button on his music player. Just as he slid awkwardly past Baca, the tape inside the machine reset itself. A recording of Thom Yorke's voice began telling all about a dystopian world—filled with crash survivors and characters right out of Shakespeare—that was just around the corner.
—Fitter, happier, more productive, the voice on recording said with the informative precision of machines.
Charlie cranked up the volume, flashed Baca the peace sign and crossed the street. He walked to the bench where a bus was always waiting and listened.
From the Heights
One City, Many People
Saturday, Jan 9: People Create Cities: The Lebanese/Syrian Community
Podcast Recommendation: Lore
"Lore" aims for the heart of the world's creepiest folklore
The soft voice of Aaron Mahnke may strike the listeners of his podcast, Lore, as oddly disconcerting. Whether Mahnke is discussing axe-weilding murders in the deep south or the creeping monsters of New England's coastline, what is a mainstay of the broadcast is the question, "what is the implication of this story?"
Listen to a few episodes in anticipation of Halloween, but as Mahnke himself tweeted earlier this week, "Let’s remember: 'Lore' isn’t a 'scary story' podcast. It’s a narrative history podcast about the roots of common superstition & folklore." There's much more to these stories than a thrill; they offer a creative exploration of history lived by everyday people, whose lives were touched by traditions and beliefs with mysterious origins and powerful implications.
Listen to Lore here.
History's Overlooked Spaces
Saturday, Oct 10: Outhouses: Underrated Icons of New Mexico History
The Daily Word in George
The Daily Word: Off the Grid
The Daily Word: Operation Counterfeit, The Obama Scheme
The Daily Word: art schtuff
the past, now in glorious technicolor!
who needs a brush?
dissect your childhood
cut it out
damn girl, are you an ancient philosophical text? because I’m learning a lot about myself and the universe from looking at you
jesus, does anyone draw anything anymore?
I guess not.