"Rooted" may be a better choice of words. What you see above is the top of an actual fence post that used to sit on my property.

The photograph above represents what I eventually came to see whenever I paid it a visit. So I brought it to life with my camera and some computer software simply as an exercise in creativity.

I can only attest for the 23 years I have lived here but local historians believe it's a good bet this post was probably placed in the ground over a hundred years ago. The general consensus is that it was set where it shouldn't of been; just outside my property line.

So last spring when the city of Alpine was reassessing it's property the location of my errant post was duly noted.

When I took down the fence [by demand] this post was so stubborn I had to pull it out with a tow chain hitched to the chassis of my truck. Apparently it was placed in the ground when it was still alive and as a result of an apparent "last gasp" effort, it sprouted roots. Seriously, a fence post with actual roots.

My wife has labeled me as a know-it-all (and as she is one herself she must certainly be correct). Know it or not it's her rhetoric reference to the the fact that my opinions are rooted in 62 years of experience. The fence post story illustrates the fact that right or wrong, in the end, even the most established and rooted of "whatever" can be dislodged with proper persuasion. So please feel free to attempt to dislodge any of my opinions that follow if deemed necessary.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Hurricane Katrina, New Mexico and the love of my life.

Shortly after Cathy and I discovered we were in love we took a two week break and went on an exploratory trip through Utah, Nevada, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico. We wanted to relocate, get away from our current surroundings and start a new life together.

We were both bold explorers; double Leos to boot. The only navigation tool we had was a $1.50 fold up paper map that laid out interstate highways and paved state roads. We didn’t have a credit card between us or a cell phone (they hadn’t been invented yet) and we were traveling in a 10 year old van on questionable tires.

Using only the sun and the stars and our common sense we fearlessly ventured down roads less traveled, many of them unpaved and unmarked. Sometimes we even made our own roads. We were in love, nothing else mattered. There was no targeted destination.

There was a small lake at the end of a dirt road, as high as you can get in the mountains of New Mexico. It was hours off of our map. It was a mirror, reflecting its own frame; shimmering aspens and tall pines bathed in the light of a dramatic and blazing sunset. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen in my life; an engram on my mind.

We couldn’t figure out why there was no one else there. In Utah there would have been so many people wanting to camp there the Forest Service or the National Park System would have long before claimed the property in the interest of the public and be charging a fee just to look at it.

About an hour later our question was answered. Misquotes, the size of Volkswagens descended upon us in unrelenting swarms and began sucking our dreams away. One of them even got away with a lawn chair.

It wasn’t funny. They left swollen, quarter sized lumps on our skin that itched insanely and eventually scabbed over and bled.

We successfully neutralized the calamity in Durango, Colorado with copious amounts of tequila and victoriously made it home.

A few months later we moved to Colorado Springs, got married and gave birth to two beautiful daughters, Amy & Lindsey.

Such memories, so long ago.

Twenty-three years later I was watching reports and conclusive opinions about the devastating effects of hurricane Katrina on a TV in a motel room in Big Spring, Texas and realized that what happened to Cathy and I in New Mexico so long ago was not only the fault of my government but could have been entirely preventable.

For God’s sake, the forest service or the NPS, the state the county or the closest city government should have posted warnings about the dangers of hanging around a lake infested with mutant mosquitoes. Better yet, someone, the mayor, the town crier, the governor or Ronald Reagan should have fumigated the entire area to prevent such an event. And then I had to ask myself, why was the lake there in the first place?

Freakin’ stupid, incompetent Army Corps of Engineers would be my best guess.

And why wasn’t there someone at the bottom of the hill with a suave to sooth our pain? What’s this country coming to?

It gets worse than you can even imagine. Later on I realized the mosquitoes were intentionally planted in the lake by our government to help the world rid itself of ignorant men and women, unnecessarily destroying our environment by driving on dirt roads created by mindless men and women unnecessarily creating their own roads.

I'm guilty as can be.

- Larry

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