I barely caught this old car restored as a lowrider as it drove past on Route 66 in downtown Albuquerque this afternoon. One of the nice things about living in the desert is that we see a lot of classic cars on the road.
Today is my 666th consecutive post since I moved to Word Press. The number 666 is dear to me because I woman once called me the Antichrist in a public meeting (I really, really made her mad). Later I used the same formula that Boris used in Tolstoy’s “War and Peace” to add up the numbers that corresponded to the letters in his name to see what they added up to, which turned out to be 666, making him think he was the Antichrist. Guess what? The numeric values of my full name also added up to 666. But it’s all for fun, as Nero was thought to be the Antichrist referred to in the Book of Revelations, and apparently, the Mark of the Beast could be 606 or 616, so all the superstition about 666 may all be for naught. The State of NM changed NM Highway 666 between Gallup and Shiprock to US Highway 491 a few years ago so they wouldn’t be mixing church and state.
So when Bruce and I were discussing what I should do for photos for this special post, he gave me the idea to google 666 Route 66. There are were actually four choices between SW, NW, SE and NE depending on which side on Central Avenue your on, east or west of the railroad tracks. East of the tracks was a hotel or the building the Baptist Convention used to be in. West of the tracks is El Rey Theater and a parking lot. If the Baptist Convention was still at 666 Route 66, that building would have been the photo of the day, but it’s a boring building and I have no history with it. So the El Rey got it. I go way back with the El Rey. When I was a kid I went to movies there, and about 20 years ago we went to see a band friend liked — the band sucked but our friend was entertaining. Around the same time, we went to a couple of salsa dances, performed flamenco, and we went to concert by Bela Fleck and the Flecktones at the El Rey. Bela Fleck was fantastic and he changed my opinion of the banjo forever. I still get mail from the Flecktones every now and then.
At lunchtime Bruce and I walked over to the El Rey Theater and he posed for me on the spot that would be 666 Route 66 SW. I used a super-wide angle lens, which made Bruce look a little like the Terminator, which was perfect. The we went around behind the building to find the back wall colorfully painted with an outline of the Virgin de Guadalupe on a back door — super! Then we photographed our way back to the office through the well painted and graffitied alleys.
I was studying for the French test tomorrow while listening to the choir rehearse Messiah pieces with the Symphony Orchestra of Albuquerque at Heights Cumberland Presbyterian Church. On the way home I started thinking about what kind of effect studying while under the influence of Handel might have. Let’s say there’s a question like “Why did the south lose the Albigensian Crusade?” I could answer “They were like sheep!” and that answer would be correct.
The Choir and SOA are performing selected pieces from Handel’s Messiah this Saturday, March 9 at 7:00 pm at Keller Hall at UNM and Sunday, March 10 at 2:00 pm at Eastern Hills Baptist, 3100 Morris St NE.
When I got to the bottom of the laundry basket tonight, I announced “I have a missing sock!” Linguist Laur told me “It’s funny how we say ‘I have a missing sock!’ If you had it the sock wouldn’t be missing!” “How about I don’t have a sock, because I’m missing it!” I replied. Then we went off on a discussion of the philosophy and linguistics behind how best to announce that you have or don’t have a missing sock. By the time we got the laundry put away, Diné was glaring at us and Mama Manx found a box to pout in for turning those piles of comfy socks into piles of missing socks! Wait, that’s not right! How about missing socks formerly known as piles of comfy sock under cats?
The UNM Brazil Club had their first annual “Fatter Tuesday” A Carnival Extravaganza tonight. I was expecting more costumes, but, there were few. Two organizers were the best dressed for the event, and also the young woman in the last photo who painted her face. They had a band and percussion ensemble so the party was loud, festive, and the dance floor was crowded. The moon was stunning this evening. We had the pleasure of watching it rise on the way home.
This was really a Garfield Monday — between dealing with dead computers, staff panics, kernel panics, intermittent mice and funky variables, I think Bruce and I managed to get a little bit of work done. I drive by the window in the last photo almost daily, and never really paid much attention to it, until tonight when I noticed it looked like an aquarium.