Flagstaff to Santa Fe: In the morning we woke up without any hurry and Tim took first shower.
The shower was a marvel of utilitarian design. The head came down from the middle of the ceiling and pointed towards one corner of the closet-sized bathroom. A curtain bisected the bathroom so that the
shower itself was a triangular cell and the water came down from over the curtain. I didn’t find it too uncomfortable despite its size. Certainly appreciated the thrifty use of space. While I was showering Tim started watching the American Filmic Achievement 42 about Jackie
Robinson’s very, very, very courageous actions in the face of abject (Southern)
racism. The dialogue sounded like Spike
Lee had written it in the midst of an Ambien-fueled cyclone. It was like an hours-long movie trailer. Everything was very Dramatic and stunk of
self-seriousness. A bevy of white
rednecks threatening Jackie Robinson to “skedaddle.” “The Brooklyn Dodgers ain’t gon’ change our
way of living.” Yikes. A wise-beyond-his-years boy (JR’s son?)
and an all-supportive, all-committed Mrs. Robinson. Aristotle said that tragedy should represent
nobler-than-average men so as to make their inevitable reversal
of fortune more affecting. Surely he’d
have had to revise his thesis had he lived to see 42.
Tim and I skedaddled out
of Flagstaff about 11am. The drive through
Arizona was uneventful but things were becoming greener all the time.
Saw quite a few coppers on the road.
Arizona was the only Western state where we’d encountered any sort of
serious highway patrol presence. Big
Government. If only we hadn’t
given up our guns! Listened to a
never-ending Terry Gross interview about fish imports and exports and it was...trying. There was apparently SO much to
say about fish. Turns out that freezing
fish makes its cell membranes erupt, which is why certain imported cuts strike
us as being “flaccid.” This was the most
interesting thing the program had to tell us. Mind-numbing.
Passed through a Navajo reservation.
A few road signs advertising “Clean Bathrooms!” Drove through to New Mexico and saw a few
more dust devils. Strong winds pushed us
around the road. Dust blown up
around us. Stopped in Gallup at a place
called "Earl’s Restaurant" (not a chain!).
Outside there was a flea market setting up. When we got in we were seated at a table set
for four. The place was very pink and
cheap looking and charming. There were tons of people.
We sat looking at the menu and every now and then peddlers would come by
offering flea market wares (yes, inside the restaurant), mostly homemade
jewelry. We’d kind of wave them off and
they’d thank us anyway. Tim asked for an iced tea and I for a coffee and soon our waitress returned with a full pitcher of iced tea and a full pot of coffee and left these with us. Then we ordered: Tim had a BLT with turkey (light on the turkey) and I had calf liver with onions,
which also came with mashed potatoes and green chili and a dinner roll and
pinto beans and would have come with dessert if I’d wanted it. All this for $10. The whole thing was swimming in gravy and it
was incredibly rich and at the end I felt satisfied but also as if
I’d been put in my place. Hubris to
think I could casually put down this meal, this feast. Tim confirmed that no one seemed to be talking
at Earl’s, but the atmosphere was somehow far jollier than the Luxor’s. People were there with their families. The place seemed to be a staple of the
community and on the wall next to us there were old pictures of patrons and their families and
former proprietors and plaques commemorating the restaurant’s having given back
to the community in this way or that.
Tim took over
driving. On NPR Kai Ryssdal seemed
exasperated. “Soooo…[three second
pause]…you thought the housing market was getting better. So did I.
I’ll fill you in on today’s ‘Marketplace.’” Kai, go take a nap or something. KR also interviewed a chef who was deriving
unusual recipes from IBM’s “Watson.”
Apparently the supercomputer had been programmed to combine like flavors
from different geographical regions and this had some potential business
applications and was therefore being featured on Marketplace. The chef’s major achievement so far had been a Butternut Squash BBQ Sauce and KR, over the course of the interview, noted at
least three times that he’d tried the sauce and hated it. “I didn’t care for it, but I have a
thirteen-year-old son who did.”
Devastating.
We were supposed to meet
Maya Nathan, our hostess for the night and one of my Bread Loaf School of English
friends, at 6pm and she texted me the restaurant’s location at 5. Wait – wasn’t it 5? The car clock said it was, but my phone was
reading 6. Oh no! We’d forgotten about the timezone shift and
were supposed to be at the restaurant RIGHT NOW. Tim booked it to Santa Fe and we showed up only
45 minutes late. Perfect gentlemen. Ate Mexican food with Maya and caught up with
her. She was ebullient as usual. Tim and I bought some wine and headed to the
St. John’s campus in Santa Fe where we’d be staying. Got there and drank the wine and then headed
to a little clearing behind a dorm and watched a dramatic sunset over the
mountains and the city (SF by the way is from what we saw very little and cute and I could
totally imagine living there). Saw many
faces from last year. Everyone was very
friendly and talkative.
Went up on the balcony
of the St. John's dorm where we’d be staying and watched a lighting storm off in
the distance. Headed back to Maya’s
common room where Maya's friend Tosh (sp?), who had proclaimed just minutes earlier that she HAD to
go to bed, showed up with a handle of Bacardi.
No one drank any of it and we just stayed up for a while talking and joking. Tim slept on a couch and I
slept on a blow-up pad of the type we used when camping. Overall a pretty good sleep.
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