I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues...

Blue is my favorite color, The Blues are my favorite tunes...and this past weekend we heard remarkable Blues under amazing blue skies... with temperatures cooler than the Bay Area. What can I say? Perfection cannot be improved upon.

Joined by Jim and Sara, their visiting grandson Zach and our visiting friend Melanie, we put up our tent about 10:30 AM and just let 'er rip! The Festival was held at Warren Ball Park - the oldest operating baseball stadium in the U.S. We sat just below the scoreboard, which still held the scores of the last Copper Kings game of summer. Local bands The Hounds and Train Wreck both did memorable sets - it's astounding how much talent there is in this little town. We even went up to the stage to shake our tail feathers, though there are few more feathers back there than we remembered from back in the day. Zach has to be the coolest 16-year-old on earth, too, because he wasn't even embarrassed by our antics, er, dancing. Plus he's a Beatles scholar, so how cool is that?

The serious visiting Blues stars came on after lunch, and lunch was a highlight for us. Nathan's hot dogs, Navajo fry bread, grilled corn, chiles rellenos, Kick Ass BBQ, and buffalo burgers were among the fare offered - but best of all, they were serving Stella Artois and some very nice wine... not that we noticed. Next thing I knew we were visiting my friend Vanessa's clothing booth and trying not to purchase that little off-the-shoulder number - escaped just in the nick.

The first post-prandial delight was The Rhythm Room All-Stars, playing Chicago Blues, which really got the crowd on their feet. And speaking of crowds, there were 3,000 people in attendance - this in a town of fewer than 5,000 people. I'm thinking we had lots of tourists in from Tucson, Phoenix, New Mexico, and parts unknown, which is definitely good for the local economy. And judging by the contents of the motorcycle parking area, every Harley club in the greater Southwest made an appearance. Even I, a committed motorcycle-phobic, was impressed by that shining horde of macho wheels... and the fact that the riders were all well-behaved once they got inside. A couple of them stumbled on our tent-pegs and fell over, but they picked themselves up and apologized as nice as can be, never using the F word - impressive.

The grand finale came with the two big name, world class acts - Shemekia Copeland (Shemekia: "How you ladies feel about me bein' the only girl singin' up here today???" Crowd: "Booooo")and Tab Benoit (Tab: "This is the first time I've been here, but I'll be back - I love you, Bisbee!" Crowd: "Yaaaaay"). More dancing, more drinking... then on to Cafe Roka, Bisbee's only fine dining restaurant, for a very excellent meal - the proverbial perfect ending to a perfect day.

The sounds of The Blues have stayed with me all week. That insistent, sexy, rolling rhythm, those mellow black voices... my writing teacher even apologized for stopping me at the Festival and telling me I was dancing slutty. He claimed he was just teasing, but for me it was no problem at all - at 62, I consider that a compliment!

Birthday Travels

As noted in the previous post, I was a little unsure about our birthday travels, but all hard feelings dissipated as we pulled into the parking lot of Si Senor restaurant in Deming, New Mexico, where we always stop to stuff ourselves with fresh home-cooked Mexican food. Tender fresh-roasted chicken, light as a feather flour tortillas just off the grill, locally grown chiles and homemade salsa... it bears no resemblance to the greasy corporate hack food served in the widely known Mexican chains(which shall remain nameless - they know who they are).

Arrived at Jerri's charming 1840's adobe in Santa Fe's East Side neighborhood, just a block from Canyon Road, at about 5:00, and that's when they party really began! Good food, good wine and good talk, and excellent companionship from Margie, as usual - and then a night of dancing at El Farol, Santa Fe's oldest restaurant, which is now a tapas restaurant with a lively bar scene and live music. Tuesday night is "open mike" night, so it's essentially free to dance to some of the best old time rock'n roll ever. Lots of retired rockers in Santa Fe, who come to El Farol for a little Tuesday jam - lucky us! On this particular night, Ron Ellison, formerly of the Delfonics, was there, and we danced the night away to "Just My 'Magination" and "Papa Was a Rollin' Stone" packed tight against artists, native Americans, gold diggers and other Santa Feans.

The next morning, a drive on Highway 84 to Durango, through what must surely be the world's most beautiful scenery. I've driven the Amalfi Coast, the roads around Capetown, seen meadows of lupine stretching on forever in the mountains of New Zealand's South Island... but this road equals it all. First Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch, with the otherworldly pink and green Georgia O'Keefe rock formations ("Haven't I seen this before?" you ask yourself, and then realize that you own an O'Keefe print of this very spot). Then you climb upward toward the bright blue sky, with the flat-bottom New Mexico clouds puffing along, aspens turning gold but wildflowers still blooming pink, purple and yellow in the fields.

Before you know it, you're in Pagosa Springs, one of America's great small towns, and a few miles on to Ben and Birgitta's ranch, where they live with five horses, three dogs, two cats and a fascinating 15-year-old genius son named Sam. Chess games, conversation on endlessly diverse topics, a brisket to die for, mind-blowingly beautiful hikes, and child-like sleep through the chilly mountain nights, tucked snugly under the downy comforter.

But the greatest thing about staying at Rancho Kater is the communion with animals. My fantasy as a child was to live on a ranch with horses and dogs, and I get to live this fantasy whenever we visit. Birgitta has endless patience and calm, which is helpful with animals and even moreso with greenhorns like me, and the two of us took an exciting ride over the steep ups and downs of the nearby mountains. My friend Bilbo took excellent care of me, as he promised he would - did everything I asked and more. We gave the horses a nice hose-down and curry after the ride because they had worked so hard and were so sweaty, so of course they immediately flopped down on their backs and rolled around in the dirt - apparently that's much better than a bath!

Back to Santa Fe on Saturday, the countryside even more spectacular after two days of fall-like weather. Did some gallery-hopping and spent a wonderful birthday dinner with Jerri, who was having her big 6-0 last week. I learned that Santa Fe is the second-largest art market in the U.S. (after NYC) and could see why - although my favorite gallery was the Community Gallery where local folk showed art made from recycled materials - so creative and surprising.

On the way home to BZB, we went through Hatch, New Mexico, and had a World Famous Green Chile Cheeseburger at Sparky's - if you're ever in Hatch, don't miss it! The local green chile harvest was just in, and a lovely man roasted ten pounds of the spicy little devils for us to take back with us - my car smelled amazing, and still does, a little. We cleaned and bagged them when we got home, and Dick, who had looked askance at me when I told the gentleman that we wanted "medium", ate a whole roasted chile, seeds and all, then had to race to the kitchen for water, milk, sour cream, etc. to put out the fire. He has accused me (joking, I hope) of using this blog just to humiliate him, which I wouldn't do, did he not give me so many opportunities...

Now we're busy making chiles rellenos, green chile omelettes, green chile salsa, green chile soup, even a jalapeno apple pie, so must get cookin'!

Busy in Bisbee!

I was very cranky last week because we had made plans to go away and I was going to miss two writing classes, two USTA league matches, a lunch in Naco with friends and the Pie Baking Contest at the Farmer's Market. As it turned out, the week's birthday trip was absolutely wonderful and the best thing we could have done, but the fact remains... we are busy here! When my far away friends ask, "But what do you DO there?" - I hardly know where to begin...

So I'll begin on the weekend before vacation, which was the weekend of the Bisbee Bloomers Garden Tour. Sara and I had volunteered to be Suzi's slaves for the Bisbee Bloomers party at her house on Friday night, the evening soiree before the weekend's garden tours. All the ladies in the Bloomers, as well as people whose gardens were on the tour were invited. Since I was the bartender, I had the primo spot in the carport, next to the new desert mural Suzi had just painted on her carport wall... between the lovely wine I was pouring and the high level of interest in the mural, I got to meet just about everybody!

On Saturday's tour, the gardens we saw were astonishing... most of them tucked back behind unassuming walls and fences, so that walking into these hidden edens literally could make you gasp in surprise - so much beauty, so much care lavished on these lush islands of color, sound and aroma... I wanted to live in every one of them! Several of the garden owners offered refreshments, and some even employed musicians, including our friend Jack, who played his guitar in his very own shady bower.

This weekend was also the Plein Aire Painting weekend, so many of the painters went to the gardens for inspiration... I suspect their work will show up in local galleries shortly.

The best thing about the Garden Tour is that the money raised goes to supply Doggie Poop Bags at stations all around town, which probably explains why, although everyone in Bisbee seems to own at least two dogs, you very seldom see the unlovely evidence of their well-fed existence on the local streets and sidewalks. Thanks, ladies!

As for last week's vacation... that's worth a whole 'nother story... stay tuned!

Labor Day Labors

Labor Day has always been one of my favorite holidays, because I never, ever, ever labor on that day. It's a lazy, end-of-summer, don't-do-anything-unless-you-want-to kind of holiday - with my apologies to the American workforce, who definitely deserve some recognition, especially in light of the great reduction in their number. However, there are cool drinks, warm friends and the US Open to consider - makes LD second only to Thanksgiving in the pantheon of excellent holidays.

This year's Labor Day weekend started with a vintage car show on the Vista. Hundreds of (well, at least a hundred) vintage cars in cherry condition, proud owners sitting in folding chairs in the shade, accepting accolades from passers-by. Our favorites, of course, were the 1964 Mini Cooper woody station wagon, made in Italy (who knew?) and lovingly restored by our friend Bill, pictured here with his wife Shari and their pug, Maude - as well as Jim's awesome Triumph motorcycle, on which Dick has spent some happy hours.

Sunday's Brewery Gulch Daze celebration was, as expected, weird, Bisbee-esque and great fun. Brewery Gulch is named for - how clever of you to guess it - the old Brewery, which still stands proudly as the site of the Stock Exchange bar. There was a pet parade, which we shouldn't have missed but did (it was at the hour appointed for tennis at the park), an art car parade (which we didn't miss - check out the photos), lots of great grub, from BBQ to chiles rellenos, henna-painting booths, a kids' art show, and much much more. Dick narrowly escaped being run down by a hot-dog shaped car - what a way to go...

The final event was a meeting of The Breakfast Club - a breakfast potluck with a group of friends who were our first introduction to Bisbee, when we joined them at Jim and Sara's back in January. Little did we know how our lives would become entwined, all because we're suckers for a homemade breakfast buffet. Yes, the universe is random, as we always suspected.

Shootout at the OK Corral

In order to get to Bisbee on Highway 80, you drive directly through Tombstone, Arizona, which bills itself as "the town too tough to die" and features some pretty weird stuff, like the Comedy Gunfights that happen every day at the historic OK Corral. I always think, "What would that be like? Making your living as a pretend Wyatt Earp or Doc Holliday in a comedy gunfight? What the hell is funny about a gunfight?" Only in America, right? Between the comedy gunfights and the Mad Miner's Mini-Golf, I've pretty much avoided spending much time in Tombstone.

However, guns are part of the culture here. At the tennis club in Sierra Vista where I play my league matches, the sign on the door to the clubhouse bar reads "Absolutely No Weapons Allowed". I always thought my forehand was my weapon, but I think they mean the cold, hard, metal kind with bullets. And, every Sunday morning when we play on our local Bisbee courts, we can hear the guys at the shooting range blasting away up on the mountain, which causes our friend Steve to mutter "fuckin' Mexicans.."

Last Friday night about 10:30, Dick and I were reading in bed (oh, the wild life of the semi-retired...)when we heard gunshots, five or six in rapid succession, coming from the direction of the road to Douglas. After an interval of about five minutes, we heard police sirens and car horns honking and what seemed to be a high speed chase around the town, sirens and horns blaring. This went on for at least 15 horrifying minutes before it faded off into the distance. "Man, somebody must have done something really bad," we said, and had a little trouble getting to sleep.

The next morning our friend Jim, the Bisbee High tennis coach, came out to watch us play. Since he's lived here most of his life, and coached at Bisbee High for 28 years, I figured he might have a clue as to what went on the night before with the guns, sirens, car horns, etc. "Oh, yeah," he said. "That was so cool - our football team beat Douglas last night for the first time in 20 years - we have a 140-year rivalry, the second-longest in American high school football history! What a celebration we had!"

I didn't ask him which rivalry was the first-longest... still a city girl.