I’ve spent the last few days getting used to a new part-time job and learning my way around town. I’ve been in ABQ since Thursday, August 16. This is my 24th day in this beautiful city and I’m wondering if I will ever leave. Of course, if I do decide to move on West I can always return.
My plan is to stay here through at least the month of October. I’ve taken a part-time job to earn a few bucks and I want to be here for the Balloon Fiesta. After the weather turns colder I may move on to a warmer climate.
I’m thinking on my journey Westward I want to visit Santa Fe, then head west to the Chaco Canyon area, and Gallup. Once I’m through traveling around western New Mexico I’ll head toward Flagstaff, Arizona and then Las Vegas. The timing of these events are undecided, which is the point of this entire trip. All along my goal has been to take my time, work when necessary, stay in places I like for extended periods of time, play cards and check out the Indian casinos along the way, and write about it.
So hang with me.
I left Texas on Monday, August 13. While it seems like ages ago, I’ve spent barely one month on the road. I’ve learned that traveling distorts your sense of time and space. A few days may seem like a month. When settled in one place you develop points of reference to keep you grounded. Routines, schedules, familiar sites and sounds of the place you call “home.” On the road, these points of reference are missing. Time and space become blurry, inconsequential. Each day I’ve been on the road has been different, unique, unplanned, and downright fun.
And the people I’ve met along the way. There is the Starbucks manager who is overworked and unorganized and needs a vacation; Ed, a character at the Sandia Resort who has become a “pal” of mine (more on him later); Keith, my new boss who owns a number of businesses and likes to laugh (I like him a lot, although I’ve only talked with him twice); Bull, a poker dealer the size of Wisconsin; the lady I see each morning working at the concierge desk at the Sandia Resort when I pick up my daily newspaper (and who helped me find a local dry cleaner); the one-armed truck driver I played poker with in Norman; and the knuckle-headed service man at the Carmax who refused to give me a ride because “we just don’t do that."
I owe all of these characters, and many more, a big “thanks” for making my trip an interesting one.
Personal Observations and Commentary on Art, Life, Culture from Mitchell Ray Aiken
Sunday, September 9, 2007
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