We had a good time in Red River but I am so glad to be home. I don't think I want to go anywhere else for a while. I like staying at home more than most people. I think I'm like my Dad in that way.
Last night we went to another bar / steak house to hear two guys play and sing. I swear every business in Red River is also a bar. They do this really cool thing called torch light. After dark every evening, all the ski instructors come down the ski slope with a torch in each hand while fireworks go off. We stood out in the cold waiting for it to start and it was pretty impressive. However the sarcasm from all the drunks surrounding us sort of ruined it for me. Being the sober one among the drunks is hard. Is this how Jerry feels at our family reunions?
So anyway, the guys we heard last night were pretty good. This one guy, Mike, was an incredible guitar player and knew every song anyone threw at him. Two little boys walked up to him and asked if he knew any John Denver. He said, "What's your second choice?" Everyone laughed but he played a John Denver song for the kids. Later they came up to him again and asked him to play some Conway Twitty. He grimaced and asked them where they had heard such music but ,then played one for them anyway. I told him he had to redeem himself and play some Grateful Dead, so he played Friend of The Devil. He had a notebook 2 inches thick with lyrics of all the songs he knew.
On the way home today, we stopped in Santa Fe and I realized after all these years I still don't like Santa Fe. I don't think I'll ever go back voluntarily. It's just a tourist trap for the very wealthy. We stumbled into a row of store fronts belonging to a family from Afghanistan. They thought we were rich, stupid Americans. One wanted to give me a great deal on a 9,000.00 rug for only 3,900.00. He said it was handmade and hundreds of years old. That meant his great grandfather's grandfather couldn't unload that rug either.
Another one tried to sell me a shawl that was beautiful, but 900.00. He put it around my shoulders and said "You must have this" I started to say my husband would kill me, but stopped when I realized he might take the statement seriously and offer to help. "Achmed, bring me some stones. We have a wife to kill!"
I walked next door and bought a shawl for 18.00 and I think it came from World Market in Lubbock, Texas. But I like it.
I didn't buy anything from the Native Americans on the square either. They were all just a little too pricey.
Anyway we are home, and I am glad, even if I do have to go to work tomorrow.
Last night we went to another bar / steak house to hear two guys play and sing. I swear every business in Red River is also a bar. They do this really cool thing called torch light. After dark every evening, all the ski instructors come down the ski slope with a torch in each hand while fireworks go off. We stood out in the cold waiting for it to start and it was pretty impressive. However the sarcasm from all the drunks surrounding us sort of ruined it for me. Being the sober one among the drunks is hard. Is this how Jerry feels at our family reunions?
So anyway, the guys we heard last night were pretty good. This one guy, Mike, was an incredible guitar player and knew every song anyone threw at him. Two little boys walked up to him and asked if he knew any John Denver. He said, "What's your second choice?" Everyone laughed but he played a John Denver song for the kids. Later they came up to him again and asked him to play some Conway Twitty. He grimaced and asked them where they had heard such music but ,then played one for them anyway. I told him he had to redeem himself and play some Grateful Dead, so he played Friend of The Devil. He had a notebook 2 inches thick with lyrics of all the songs he knew.
On the way home today, we stopped in Santa Fe and I realized after all these years I still don't like Santa Fe. I don't think I'll ever go back voluntarily. It's just a tourist trap for the very wealthy. We stumbled into a row of store fronts belonging to a family from Afghanistan. They thought we were rich, stupid Americans. One wanted to give me a great deal on a 9,000.00 rug for only 3,900.00. He said it was handmade and hundreds of years old. That meant his great grandfather's grandfather couldn't unload that rug either.
Another one tried to sell me a shawl that was beautiful, but 900.00. He put it around my shoulders and said "You must have this" I started to say my husband would kill me, but stopped when I realized he might take the statement seriously and offer to help. "Achmed, bring me some stones. We have a wife to kill!"
I walked next door and bought a shawl for 18.00 and I think it came from World Market in Lubbock, Texas. But I like it.
I didn't buy anything from the Native Americans on the square either. They were all just a little too pricey.
Anyway we are home, and I am glad, even if I do have to go to work tomorrow.
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