Bowie believed and accepted enough to write and sing about it.

“He told us not to blow it “cause he knows it’s all worthwhile.”

“Starman”

(pics of yesterdays rainout not available. no rain expected today so look for pics tomorrow)

From last years festival in Roswell, footage of Element 115’s show at the Wool Bowl.

Cool that it is just walking distance from the house. I will get to see the show again this week. They are a fun bunch of folks.

I have wanted to get abducted for years. I have still not seen a green or grey creature on a ship loaded with flashing lights. I am waiting for my alien probe and I don’t mean being raped by an illegal.

It seems the Byrds wanted the abduction experience way back in the ’60’s. Here they are on the Smothers Brothers show with “Mr. Spaceman”.

Now I am off to get pics and the inside story of the festival. I’ll have them up tonite and will continue covering the festival all weekend.

Have a pleasant Independence Day and don’t forget the kids serving in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Thats one of the top draws for tourism attractions in and around Roswell. There is much more to this city though. We have a small but nice arts community here as well as many parks and nearby mountain fun. I will show you around a bit as the International UFO Festival starts tomorrow and I wont have time for non festival posts for a few days. (hang in there I will get back to my rantings soon.)

A small eastern New Mexico town located on the Pecos River Roswell has been steeped in the cattle industry. Still known as the “Dairy Capitol Of The Southwest” it was on the Chisholm Trail.

This cool sculpture sits downtown across Main Street from the Chaves County Courthouse shown here Ten Commandments out front and all.

In front of that very courthouse I was told my sign memorializing fallen soldiers in Iraq would get me arrested and charged as an enemy combatant.

As you can see they won that one and I no longer carry my memorial sign even though just at the other end of the block there is a big granite or marble memorial standing.

I guess my sign wasn’t fancy enough.

Although this picture has nothing to do with our towns history or attractions I just wanted to remind you that McCain loves Bush and his policies.

I got kinda thirsty taking these snapshots so on the way to the art museum I stopped at our local Mc Donalds for a Coke. The alien theme extends to the business world here as you can see from the flying saucer shaped play area there.

Arbys is in on it too.

As well as the Christian coffee shop.

Even before the crash in 1947 Roswell was steeped in space travel research. Robert Goddard experimented with rockets here from the early 1920’s through the early ’40’s. There is a great exhibit of his workshop and some actual rockets at the Roswell Museum And Art Center.

The museum faces the Spring River.

Yeah, I know. Huh? The river side of that curb is about 18 inches. I have seen it almost to the top once. Kinda seem more like a ditch to me after living in Louisiana for so long.

During World War 2 there was a big POW camp just outside of town. The German inmates were put to work on projects around here and one of the things they did was lay rock walls along the river bed. One day while they were quite unsupervised they laid the rocks in an Iron Cross. The Roswaliens were pissed. A group of citizens poured congrete over the cross to hide it. The mixture was too thin however and soon washed away. It is now a National Monument and there is a small pocket park overlooking it.

The POW’s were treated well here. Nothing like the POW’s are treated in Gitmo today. The people of Germany remembered the treatment and when the Berlin Wall came down they sent our city a piece of the torn down wall. Both a thank you and a symbol of world unity. It sits in the park where the cross is.

The nearby mountains and villages scattered through them offer summer coolness and lots of winter sports. The Bottomless Lakes State Park is just 9 miles east of towm amd the Bitter Lakes Nature Preserve is just minutes from downtown as well. Lots of local wildlife abounds in the area and at the risk of sounding like a travel agent I want to invite y’all to visit.

I will be covering the Festival in the next few days so hang on and stay aboard my big rig to insanity. I may go interstellar on you.

The two videos posted here are from last year. The first one is the same one they are running in a nationwide campaign this year as well edited to this years dates. Couldn’t find one on youtube so… The dates for this years UFO Festival in Roswell, NM are July 3 thru 6.

Check out the official festival website.

Also check out the International UFO Museum And Research Center.

I will be posting pics and commentary all week with all of the local weirdness thats going on.

Sometimes I get bored with the stuff that the internets and teevee has to offer. I mean, just how much war and poverty can I stand? A good book is sometimes just what I need. After reading the book I did yesterday I think I still need a good book. This one was far from good but I did laugh. After I smoked a bowl or two of the weed. (thats the only way i could wrap my mind around the stuff he was trying so hard to explain to me)

My room mate Cat works at the International UFO Museum And Research Center here in Roswell. One of the perks is she can bring home books from their library. They have a massive library and document center that rivals most if not all of the UFO reasearch libraries in the world. The have it even if the book has no foundation or basis. Conspiracy theorists abound and the book I read is by one of these people. Ronnie McCullen will be here for the UFO Festival in July and although I want to see him I can’t promise I wont laugh in his face. The festival centers around the crash of July 4, 1947 and much of the event revolves around the museum.

The book I endured for a while yesterday is called “Sold Out Warning Has Our Government Sold It’s Soul For Technology?” Ronnie McMullen is an old fashioned King James Version bible thumper who believes in aliens, abductions and how the Illuminati and our government is involved with these same aliens.

Before I go any further I want to state that I am not so arrogant to believe earthlings are the only “intelligent” life forms in our universe. I have seen lights in the night sky doing strange things while driving across the open expanses of nothingness in the western states here. I don’t know what kind of aircraft would do the stuff these lights did but they were probably earth based. They are still unidentified flying objects to me but I had no encounters with them. Probably just planes and atmospheric stuff making illusion.

Or aliens. I really don’t care.

Ronnie, however, does care. The book went on about the serpent who tempted Eve in the Garden Of Eden. How he was one of the lizard people, who are actually demons, giving her the chance to be godlike with the knowledge she would acquire if she ate the fruit. A temptation she yielded to according to the story.

Using scriptures from his bible, old American Indian lore and the advancement of technology he has come up with a theory of how the leaders of the world are in cahoots with the aliens/demons who live in underground bunkers and tunnels that are honeycombed around the world. He believes the flying discs and aliens come from Hell under us and not from other planets or anywhere else in space. His theory is that these are the angels who were cast out of Heaven with the angel Lucifer. Their mission is to take over and keep this earth for themselves. Not allowing god in Heaven to have anymore say in our lives.

Using scripture he showed how the “purity” of Jesus’ blood was not messed with like the other tribes of the world were. The family of Christ never had sex with the lizards from Adam and Eve on. How that purity is important as well as our purity is. He implores us not to have sex with the lizard/serpent/aliens so we can be saved when the demons take over.

His main thesis was that the world leaders have traded their/our souls to these demons for technology. Technology gives them godlike power and the demons get us in the end. Being raised by a fundamentalist preacher and studying Christian theology for years I knew the scriptures he quoted. Living in Roswell I have heard a lot of theories about this subject. I guess its just natural for Christians to think that everything in our world has to revolve around their seperatist/hateful religion. Even aliens can’t catch a break from them. The old religious attitude of “If I don’t understand it it must be evil and ungodly” prevails.

I don’t recommend you rush to buy this inane piece of drivel. However, if your local library has a copy or you run across one in a thrift store for a buck or less then pick it up and get a few laughs. It is less than 200 pages long and is an easy read. Written on a grade school level so even our undereducated masses can understand he gets his message across well. I know it was easier for me to comprehend after I got stoned.

I think the underlying message is that if the government would spend less time making deals with the lizard people and more time worrying about our kids’ education we wouldn’t have to endure the crappy theories this mans book spews.

Folks would be smarter.

Maybe even the author of this funny book.

Howcome nothing like this happens in Roswell any more? Probably because they closed the Eat Cafe.

Brownsville Station, “Martian Boogie”.

As is my morning tradition when I can’t sleep I walked to the Dennys a couple of blocks away for a few cups of java and some conversation with the very early morning crowd of Roswaliens. The coffee is ok and the ambiance is plastic but I love the graveyard waitress and the mentally handicapped busboy. I am considered one of the regulars there and have become friendly with quite a few of the regular morning coffee drinkers over the past year and a half. Farm hands and construction workers. The folks who are changing shifts at the nearby hospital and truckdrivers getting ready for the days grind. Lots of salt of the earth regular folks. Needles to say diverse on their outlook on life and politics. Good folks all of them. Most are friendly and fun but there are some who are just cranky, no matter what the topic of the moment is. One of the cranky guys is Steve.

Steve is a devout Christian and Marine veteran, a lifer who was forced out after 25 years and a knee injury. He is my age, just turned 50 in January, and as such he never saw combat during his military career. Just a bit too young for Viet Nam and too old for any of the Afghanistan/Iraq wars. Even so he is a blind patriot to the Bush administrations definitions of what a patriot is. Supporting the administrations policies without question is how he supports our troops and country. One of the less than 30% who still give Bush a thumbs up. “America, Right or Wrong”, is his creedo.

The counter conversation turned to the mistreatment of returning war vets who are being ignored by the Veterans Administration and the government. Jay, a dairy farmer and Korea War veteran, and I were talking when Steve interrupted us with his crap about how those who don’t support the presidents policies are the ones who truly don’t support the troops. If we questioned the administration then we were wishing harm to the soldiers. That kind of bullshit….you know the rap. He told me, “You aren’t an American”.

Jay, who is quiet and non confrontational, got silent and turned away. Not saying anything we could tell that he was angry. Jessie, our waitress, laughed and teased him about how his ears were turning red. He tried to smile and fall into conversation with her. About the coffee and how it seemed different than when he first started going to Dennys. They both knew that Steve’s comment would not be taken well by this old longhaired “hippie’. They knew that a trucker who carried supplies to keep this country running wouldn’t have his patriotism attacked. They know the difference between how I feel about this war I despise and the soldiers whom I respect and love.  How I want to keep exposing the lies that got our troops into the war and how each soldier who is wounded or killed because of those lies hurts me personally. They fell quiet while I boiled inside.

The words accusing me of not being a patriot burned in my head. Telling me that my beliefs and opinions made me less of an American than he was burned in my heart…and stomach. Then I got mad. What Jessie and Jay were sure was coming actually did. I started in on Steve starting with how questioning the governments tyranny was the first American patrioticic act. Folks tired of the way they were being governed took up arms and fought, some dying, for their desire to be free.

Questioning the leaders has always been a way of life in The United States. Demanding the government, that we pay for, to be accountable is the noblest part of being a patriotic American, and our duty. Over the years the people have made great changes because of their speaking against policies and laws. 200 plus years ago the people achieved freedom from an outside government by fighting for the populations desires. 150 years ago slavery was made illegal because the people questioned. In the 20th century many voices got louder and made the government change laws that gave more “equal” rights to the people of our land. People marching in the streets, voicing their dissatisfaction with the leaders, got things done. Women got to vote because they voiced their questions. People of color became a strong voice, questioning.  When the American people finally had enough they screamed their dissent from the streets and ended the Viet Nam war. No 100 year occupation because the people wouldn’t allow it.

I continued my heated rant by telling him that the man he worships as God was a patriot as well. Jesus Christ was killed by the government in his land because he spoke out against the way they were treating his people. They gave him a trial and sentenced him to death. Because he was strong enough to question the government.

I was feeling conspicuous  because my indignancy was making my voice raise. I got quiet for a moment then reached for my jacket. Steve didn’t say anything as I put the tip next to my half finished cup of coffee. Everyone around was silent. I almost felt bad for scolding this man in front of so many folks. He looked at Jessie and told her to put my coffee on his tab. Thanking him I turned to leave. I realized this was his way of apologizing for accusing me of being un-American. Instead of walking away I felt I needed to make one thing sure. I turned back and looked him in the eye. Calmly I told him what I tell anyone who questions me and my vocal opinion of the way the VA and Pentagon are treating the troops.

“Never say I am not a patriot. Because I question I am a true American.”

I turned and walked out knowing that the next time I see him we will be friendly again.

All is well in my part Roswell.

I was writing a post Tuesday evening. Something about the Obama lead over Clinton and how the Paul/Huckabee campaigns were slowing the McCain…well you have read everyone else’s opinion of the old news so I’ll just piss and moan about why I have been off line.

While writing my post my hosts server crashed. It was down both Tuesday and Wednesday. When they got the whole thing back up there were errors of some kind messing up the links from server to web page….then when I was online chatting with my hosts techs my internet provider crashed.

I have been out of touch for days but I wasn’t raided or shut down as was suggested by one reader. I just had some bad luck. The upside is that I get a month of hosting at no charge. Thats cool.

It’s a good night and we are expecting snow tonight in Roswell. Probably wont last very long as it is supposed to get warm tomorrow afternoon. I will be back up to posting stuff tomorrow. (saturday)

I hope your weekend is great.

Daytona 500 Sunday for those who like to watch 43 drivers go fast and turn left.

Until last night I doubted that I would ever see an extra terrestrial craft. I never doubted they were there and when I was driving trucks I saw flying lights in the distance and imagined they were UFO’s but because of last night I know.
Not being able to sleep I bundled up and went to Dennys. After drinking about 3 cups of mud I decided to take a walk. The conversation was uninspiring and the wind had died down so I decided my own thoughts would be better than the oldsters at Denny’s counter.
Walking east on 23rd I quickly got into the neighborhood that has warehouses and is totally uninhabited by man at night. I figured my walk was about half over so I sat on a brick wall that used to hold a sign of some type. Lighting the joint I was carrying I looked around at my surroundings.
An abandoned building sat a ways back from the street across a gravel parking area overgrown with brush and leaves. Broken liquor bottles and used condoms were scattered in with the paper litter that had blown in on the wind. Everything was quiet but I could see the occasional car on Country Club Road. My view down 23rd ended at the dead end a couple hundred yards to the east. I could see clear to Main street looking west and knew I could eat the joint before anyone could reach me in a car. Smoking in public, even at 3:30 A.M. in a small town like Roswell, makes me cautious so I pre-plan. Nothing I had ever planned for prepared me for the rest of the night.
Suddenly the big doors on the warehouse behind me flew open and I was bathed in a weird greenish blue light. Despite the initial scare of the doors banging open I was instantly covered with a sense of peace. I felt no threat and slowly turned to see what was going on in the warehouse. Two men were approaching me.
As their outlines became filled with features I stood getting ready to explain what I was doing there. The biggest guy spoke with a heavy accent. Asking if he could get a hit of my weed they both smiled. It hadn’t occurred to me to ditch the roach when they arrived so I offered it to him. When I asked what they were working on in there They invited me to come take a look. Inside we all went.
In the center of the floor stood a weird looking van. Somewhat resembling an old 60’s style VW bus it was longer and rounded on both ends. I figured these freaks were building a float for some parade here. Thanksgiving and Christmas parades aren’t about UFO’s…but this IS Roswell.I didn’t see any wheels so I guessed it would be pulled on a trailer.
Then, to my great surprise I realized that nothing was holding it up. It was suspended in a pool of that same green/blue glow that had flooded the parking lot. This was cool. I hoped to learn more and said so.
They said they would show me how it worked because without a degree in astrophysics I’d never understand.
The door slid back and we got inside. Although cramped it was comfortable.We sat down and the short guy handed me back my roach. Its good schwag and we all had a little buzz.
“A friend of mine grows this shit back home” he said pulling a little cigarette case out of his coveralls.
I lit the proffered joint and immediately started choking.
“Lets ride to the club.”, he said to his buddy.
” K “, was the answer.
Suddenly, not in any way jolting or fast, just suddenly, we were above Roswell. I can tell it was Roswell because the “skyline” is easy to spot if you’ve ever come into town at night. Then the only light that we saw was the green/blue glow. Still that easy, calm feeling. No worries about abduction, where we were headed or anything. The weed he had offered was the best I’ve ever smoked and I quit after 3 or 4 puffs. Suddenly lights were below us and they formed a city quickly. A city I thought I recognized from the road patterns. A big city, not a town like we left only a few seconds ago.
Damn! That interstate system looks like Oklahoma City! How did we get here in seconds? Or was I so stoned I thought it was a short time? Would clubs be open in Okie City at this time?
We arrived at the “Club” where a covered parking area was filled with vehicles similar to the one we were in. When the door opened I couldn’t walk well and ambled stonededly (is that a word?) into the building with them.
.There were men of all races in the club but no women.
“Great”, I thought. No chicks. A gay bar for sure. A guy in a business suit asked me if I wanted a drink. Not really so I asked for a Coke. Fuckin’ Okie’s cant make decent coffee but Coke is the same all across the country.
I saw a door on the far side of the room. The sign said “PROBING ROOM”. many people stood in line waiting while others came out of the door with a satisfied look on their faces.
Then it hit me!! Aliens really did inhabit the earth. They even had their own social clubs. The rumors and actual accounts you hear so much about are true! The abductions and probes aren’t bullshit.
It really goes on.
I walked around and found the guys I had come with. I told them I understood everything.
The big guy asked me to look in his eyes and think the truth I had come to in my mind. If it were right I’d be returned immediately to Roswell. If I was wrong I’d have to become the probee in the Probe Room.
I looked into his eyes and sent a thought to him.
I was sitting on the brick wall on 23rd finishing the joint and getting ready to smoke that menthol before I walked home.
I realized I knew the secret of aliens. I had known and when I sent the telepathic message to my host he kept his promise.
Although they didn’t tell me not to say what I learned I still feel funny telling anyone.
Just don’t tell anybody it was me who told you.
Aliens can take the shape of humans or already look like us anyhow. All of them are male and reproduction is a man thing.
One more thing I saw at the club. Posters for upcoming alien events were all over the place. The Roswell event for the July 4 anniversary celebration will be attended by space men. They come for the party every year
No wonder the government silenced the knowledge about the 1947 crash outside of Roswell.
Don’t ask. Don’t tell.

Last weeks UFO sightings in and near Stevenville, TX made me think of a story I wrote last year about visitors from other worlds.

The people of Stevenville are just the next bunch of people all over the world who have been seeing things in the sky for thousands of years. It happened her in Roswell in 1947. The July 4th anniversary of the ‘47 crash is celebrated with a festival here each year. I wrote this short essay just before last years 60th anniversary party. Those “in the know” say an increase of sightings happen every 60 or so years so maybe the new Texas sightings are part of this phenomenon.

Every 60 years the sightings of strange craft in the sky are reported in an increased number. In 1947 a strange craft crashed near Roswell and much controversy surrounds it. The crash was one of thousands of sightings in the sky seen that year world wide. More than any other year in the 20th century. They say the sightings have increased this year and some say the visitors from far away will come to our town but I don’t believe them. The visitors don’t like crowds and the UFO Festival is expected to get crowded this year.
Don’t ask how I know their distaste of crowds. I promised I wouldn’t tell.
I can tell some of what I learned last night but I must be vague. I don’t want to mess anything up.
Early autumn of 1887 was cool at Peter Hewitt’s farm. With 1800 acres of healthy hemp growing in the fields he knew the next year would be good. The money the crop would bring would pay off the farm as well as give plenty for living for at least a year.
Peter sat in front of the fire turning one of Edison’s light bulb over and over in his hands. He wanted to figure out how a bulb could burn cooler so it wouldn’t go out so quickly. The incadescent bulbs had a filament for fuel and they quickly burned it up. There had to be a better way.
His wife was in the kitchen cooking dinner. The smells of carrots and potatoes blending with the squirrel and spices made his mouth water. Anna made the best squirrel stew. His friend Rudolf was napping in the chair across from him.His arrival from Germany this afternoon was an unexpected but pleasant surprise. The journey had left him exhausted so Peter let him sleep. Jake, Pete’s golden retriever, slept on the floor between the 2 men. His nose twitched and his paws moved as he chased a dream rabbit through the fields.
Peter was warm, the mood was calm and he soon dozed off. The sounds of the pots clanging in the kitchen was like a lullaby. Peace was in the house but it wouldn’t last long.
Suddenly Jake sat up growling. Hewitt woke from his nap A rumbling motor sound filled the air and a bright light burst through the windows. The roaring sound died suddenly and all that was left was a humming sound and the light. Jake ran to the door barking furiously. Pete got up and raced to the door curious of who would make such a racket at this hour.
Throwing the door open he felt Jake rush past him only to turn around in fear. He ran crying past Peter, up the stairs to hide behind the bed in the master bedroom. Keening and shuddering he acted as if he had seen his own ghost.
With Rudy following him Peter went out onto the porch. A huge sphere made of a shiny metal with lighted tubes crisscrossing the exterior was sitting in the pasture. It stood at least 50 foot tall and seemed to glow from the reflection of the lights on the shiny surface.
A door opened in the lower part of the ball and 6 men stepped out. Dressed in suits made of a weird shiny material with the collars pulled high. Low brimmed hats helped the collars hide the mens faces. The formed a wedge like formation . 1 in front, 2 behind him with the other three.following the leaders.
Sensing no danger Peter greeted them warmly. Inviting them to dinner was natural for this humble hemp farmer. The men politely refused and told them there really wasn’t time. They had noticed the hemp fields and since hemp fueled their craft would like to aquire some to make it home. Peter wondered aloud what his return would be.
The leader replied “Knowledge that will make you prosper.”
Without waiting for the OK the 5 men in the rear went to the hemp fields and began pulling plants. In no time they had harvested at least 2 acres, probably more. Stuffing the plants inside a hopper built into the bottom of the sphere they waved the two men towards the lighted craft.
Rudy looked into the hopper. Watching the oil being extracted from the stalks and seeds he noticed the pulp was being dissolved in a smelly liquid. Watching the simple process he somehow absorbed some kind of knowledge. His face was filled with wonder.
Meanwhile Peter was examining the lighted tubes. Some kind of glass surrounded gasses that were burning from an unseen spark. The tubes were connected by metal boxes that were producing the humming sound.The amazement on his face rivaled the look on Rudolf’s.
The man from the craft admonished the men not to ever tell of the visit. If spoken of to anyone the knowledge would disappear and the promised success would never come.
The craft suddenly roared and disappeared into the night sky. The men returned to the house where Anna was laying the good china on the table. With rumbling tummies the men sat to a wonderful meal. Neither uttered a word until after the apple pie with fresh whipped cream was finished. Rudolf praised Anna’s fine meal and excused himself to go to bed.
Thats all I will tell you of what was revealed to me. I hope my vagueness was sufficient.
In 1891 Rudolf Diesel patented the Diesel engine in Germany. The prototype ran on hemp fuel.
Shortly after that Peter Cooper Hewitt patented the flourescent light.
In 1947, some 60 years later there were many visitors in our atmosphere. Some obviously landed and interacted with humans.
The first computers were being patented in the very early 1950’s.

If you have read this before…gee…you really get around.
Sale days at the Roswell stockyards are held twice a week on Tuesday and Saturday. Ranchers from all around bring their cattle and sheep in on the night before. Lots of noise downtown on those nights. Trucks roaring, cowhands yelling and livestock bellowing in protest can be heard all around downtown. The cacaphony of money.

Walking at night is one of my favorite things. I’ll walk even when offered a ride most of the time. I would rather walk than drive and driving is my passion. Roswell is a fantastic place to live when it comes to walking.
The days are usually warm and while the nights get cool I just bundle up and go. I go to the store, pay my bills or just stroll for that elusive “alone time”.
The other night I went to slip my rent into the mail slot at my landlords office. It was late and the only traffic that was out were the marked cop cars. And very few of them.

I probably saw the same one over and over. A scruffy looking guy like me draws their attention so they keep a good eye on me both directions on Main St. Probably keeps me out of trouble as their presence keeps the wierdo’s from buggin’ me.
Monday nights aren’t too busy in Roswell and downtown is deserted except for the sleeping homeless folks and a rare car headed home from the bar or McDonalds. I usually take a small joint to smoke before I head home. The walk downtown sometimes makes the pain greater. Sitting on Main Street is safe because I could swallow what I have before they could stop their car. This night I walked to the plaza across from the courthouse. Looking at the statue of John Chisolm (of the infamous Chisolm Trail) and his horse I figgered that with his protection I could get by without being noticed. I fired the joint up and sat on the wall under the statue..
The sculpture is great. The detail is so fine I could almost feel the heat from the horses nostrils while the commanding look in John’s eyes burned through me. Since he died 50 plus years before our government made a plant illegal he wasn’t judging my actions, just watching me. Judging my character and strength. Seeing that my attitude was something he could work with.
Sitting, smoking and daydreaming I suddenly became aware of sound of cattle bawling. The sounds of many hooves pounding the ground came at me faster than I could expect. Cows weren’t supposed to be on Main Street. The sale barn is way over on Garden. But sure enough there they were coming from the south. Rumbling up the narrow dirt road.
Wait!! Main street is 5 lanes wide plus a parking lane on both sides.
The buildings and the courthouse were gone. I could see the small shops and modest houses all around me and nothing was familiar.
Ragged looking cowboys riding tired looking horses of all colors were leading the way. The herd of about 300 head of cattle were being driven up the trail by quite a few of these guys. Their yelps blended with all of the other sounds. I wondered why the drive would be happening so late. A voice answered my question.
“Lookin’ for a job?”
I looked around and saw Mr. Chisolm himself.
“The cook quit in Artesia.” he said. If you can cook my men are hungry. They wont stop til its suppertime and I need somebody to feed ‘em.”
“Where’s the chuck wagon?” I asked.
He pointed to a small wagon being drawn by a couple of mules.I headed over. He called out and the cowhands started getting the cattle settled down. The watering pond was a few hundred yards up the trail.
I climbed inside and in the dim light started cooking. A huge wood stove was blazing and the meat was already prepared for cooking. Bags of potatoes and onions were in one corner. Flour and other ingredients were in small barrells and beans were boiling on the stove. I started making a meal these guys would enjoy before their well needed nap.
I made tortillias. Spicing and simmering a huge pot of meat I wondered how I would serve this concoction without a decent salsa. There werent any tomatos or chili’s on board but the shopkeeper from the grocery store brought out a few jars he had in the back room.

Out side the cowboys were settling in around a fire. The food was ready to be served and Mr. Chisolm helped me carry it out. I looked at the salsa jars before I carried them out. It came from San Antonio. What a relief. We’ve all seen the Pace commercials.
Every one ate a bunch commenting on the FACT that I know how to put a good feed out.There was some wine in an old box and the bottles started going around.A deck of cards came out and soon I was in a game being played with unfamiliar coins. I had gotten some of the old money somehow.We played a few hands then a few girls came from the hotel and the party really started. I grabbed my old guitar and started singing ballads I’ve grown fond of. “El Paso by Marty Robbins, some Hank Snow and of course The Grateful Dead. All were appropriate to the situation.
I strummed a few notes of “Jack Straw” and started singing.
“We can share the women. We can share the wine. We can share what we got of yours ’cause we done shared all of mine…”
The sound of a slowing patrol car brought me forward 150 years and I was both happy and disappointed. The cop recognized me and waved.
John Chisolm stared at us blankly.
The cowboys were gone.
I’m sure they made it to Santa Fe.

Undressing for bed a couple of hours later I found some old coins spilling from my pockets. Lots of them. I had won, obviously.
I went home with everything.

Title and lyrics used are from “Jack Straw” , Robert Hunter and Bob Weir. 1971

Welcome to my newest nightmare. My name is Rocky and I live in Roswell, NM. I drove big trucks for years and I have a lot of tales to tell. I am very politically opinionated and my ideals are not what you would expect from an over the road driver. Although I sometimes come across as a redneck I don’t think I usually lean in that direction. I hope this blogging experience will help me learn some things as well as give me a chance to present my views on current affairs. I will, from time to time, go off on a strange rant or talk about what its like to live in a small town whose claim to fame is the UFO crash of 1947…Oh…and it is “the Dairy Capital Of The Southwest”. Mostly though I will be waxing ever so un-eloquently. I will talk about things I feel are important socially, politically and just everyday craziness.

I will be working on modifying and tweaking this new site over the next few days and hope to be posting daily by New Year Day.

Welcome aboard the big rig to insanity and please enjoy the ride.