Johnny_Mango's Sunday Wallpaper

THE PIT--There is a reason we have had cheerleaders in America for as long as we have had college sports. I am not sure I want to go into the reasons, but cheering is certainly a part of the college game that a lot of us give its due. In fact, it's the only time The Artist we sit near takes the dust caps off his binoculars. How's that for college spirit!

The Sunday Poem: Judith Slater

American Life in Poetry: Column 036

BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE

In this poem by western New Yorker Judith Slater, we're delivered to a location infamous for brewing American stories—a bar. Like the stories of John Henry, Paul Bunyan, or the crane operator in this poem, tales of work can be extraordinary, heroic and, if they are sad, sometimes leavened by a little light.


In The Black Rock Tavern

The large man in the Budweiser tee
with serpents twining on his arms
has leukemia. It doesn’t seem right
but they’ve told him he won’t die for years
if he sticks with the treatment.
He’s talking about his years in the foundry,

running a crane on an overhead track in the mill.
Eight hours a day moving ingots into rollers.
Sometimes without a break
because of the bother of getting down.
Never had an accident.
Never hurt anyone. He had that much control.

His problem is that electricity
raced through his body and accumulated.
When he got down at the end of a shift
he could squeeze a forty-watt light bulb
between thumb and finger and make it flare.
All the guys came around to see that.

Judith Slater is a clinical psychologist and her poem first appeared in “Prairie Schooner,” Vol 78, No. 3, Fall 2004 by permission of the University of Nebraska Press with the permission of the author. Poem copyright © 2004 by The University of Nebraska Press. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.

Shooting Sally A @ the Nob Hill Shop 'n' Stroll

NOB HILL--Sooner or later in every man's life comes that life changing event. It forces a guy to dig down deep and fundamentally change his "rules of living." It happened to me last night. I was at the Nob Hill Shop 'n' Stroll...doin' more strolling than shopping. As usual I had my little Nikon Coolpix 4800 hanging across my body like a dainty leatherette bandolier. I was not prepared for what happened next: BAD PICTURES!

I couldn't take a decent picture to save my soul! And this morning I did change my life. Before I even had a cup of coffee, I got out the Instruction Book! How's that for immense. And I have only had this camera for one year.

If there was one bad picture that sent me over the edge it had to be the eerie shot of the two ladies from the Salvation Army. Are those auras? Is my lens dirty? Do I need to read the book?

You see I love the Sally A. It goes back to the Mississippi River flood of 1965. I had been piling sandbags on a levee somewhere near Muscatine, Iowa. There were four of us. We were from Chicago...college students who had hitchhiked down to help for a few days before finals. It never quit raining. We were cold, hungry, tired, and slogging our way down the top of this levee out in the middle of nowhere.

And there it was ahead of us in the mud: a little trailer from the Salvation Army serving hot sandwiches and coffee. They were right in the middle of the action...right in the middle of that cold, muddy, wet, bone-chilling weekend...with a hot sandwich and coffee. God bless 'em. And to think that my camera couldn't get a decent shot of those two great women made me sick.

So here I am today, a changed man. I'm drinking coffee with the computer on, the camera next to it, and The Nikon Guide to Digital Photography with the Coolpix 4800 next to that. Check back soon. See if it did any good.

On another subject (but still recorded with the same bad photography) there was a guy and a boy riding around in a dog cart. Those dogs even looked happy! And they pulled the two passengers without any problem whatsoever. Now where is that dog o' mine?

Commenter Prompts Soccer Pix

NOB HILL--The soccer team won last weekend, but I was too wrapped up in the ever-pressing actualized scroll-down of corporeal existence to blog it. But Scoutj in a comment on last night's basketball game mentioned how important these soccer games are. After all, we won the Sweet-16 round and tomorrow play in the Elite-8. That is hard to beat!

I didn't care for the quality of these shots. They are dark action shot taken at a distance where no flash is possible. They do, however, seem to capture the flavor of the moment.

The first photo is the scene right after the winning goal, which came a mere 34 seconds into the overtime. No, I didn't get a shot of the goal...and I don't think anyone else did either. You can see the people in front of me cheering and waving their arms. It was wonderful: 90 minutes scoreless, and then 34 seconds - bingo!

People rushed out onto the field from all directions. The celebration lasted until everyone was back in their cars. Speaking of that, the Lobo women played right after the game, so MaryAnn and I didn't drive home...we just switched parking lots. What a treat. Two victories in one night.

Flanagan at the Line

NOB HILL--Women's basketball coach Don Flanagan has often been attacked for the poor free-throw shooting of various members of his teams. These shots taken at last nights game of Timi E-Nunu and Judy Vogt shooting from the charity stripe seem to show a marked similarity. I would say he does go over the mechanics of free-throw shooting and here is the proof!

Lobos Take a Bite Out of the Golden Gophers

THE PIT--There are people saying that tonight's game was the greatest women's game ever played in the Pit. I won't get into that argument, but tonight's game was AWESOME! The Lobos, ranked 21st in the nation going into the game, beat the 10th ranked Minnesotans 62 - 44. It wasn't even close.

The Artist Ken Saville was screaming, "You're in our house now!" That is how crazy this game was. He never says anything. I was shouting all the time. MaryAnn just laughed. This game was intense from the beginning right through to the end. You could feel the tension on every possession.

Player of the Game Katie Montgomery was every bit as tough as she needed to be. She played all 40 minutes. Other stand-outs:

• Timi E-Nunu...real quick on defense...3 steals...3 points...11 minutes
• Jana Francis...best game of her career...played tough against those big Gophers in the paint...3 blocks...2 / 5 from 3-point land...6 rebs...13 points
• Brandi Kimball...5 rebs...7 points...teamed with Timi, they are like lightning on defense
• Julie Briody...her heart always give a spark to the team when she comes off the bench...instant excitement...did have 3 turnovers

But the star of the game is definitely Katie Montgomery. Her line: 16 points...4 / 6 from beyond the circle...4 rebounds...4 assists...1 turnover...40 minutes

For complete coverage of the game go to GoLobos.

When Minnesota fell behind with about 10 minutes to go in the first half, they started calling time outs. That's always a good sign. Wholesale substitutions became part of their game plan as they looked for an answer to the Lobos. They were also a bit worried about the elevation I imagine. But they never could get off the blocks.

I was glad to see the sumo wrestlers were back again. Even the normally jaded cheerleaders seemed to enjoy it. Maybe it was just the nervous excitement of being ahead in the game.

Next up is Arizona State on Wednesday in Tempe. I hope someone finds a way to put this game on TV. If not, the game will be broadcast on radio as usual...KNML...610AM...THE Sports Animal.

The Kids at Thanksgiving.

NOB HILL--It is too quiet in the newly remodeled kitchen of the Mango_Mansion. MaryAnn's sons have left; Ethan took Paul and Ben to catch their plane back to New York City. Simone and grandson Robby are back in their everyday routine. But the memories of seeing them here for Thanksgiving remain and warm our hearts. We did miss Ivan and Melanie, but hope to see them soon.

The new kitchen worked great. Our convection oven helped MaryAnn turn out a spectacular bird. In fact, everything was spectacular. We hope your holiday was just as nice.

Johnny_Mango's Sunday Wallpaper

Nob Hill--This floret of a geranium was still alive in my front yard last week. After the cold snap of the last couple of days...well, I hope it has found a new home indoors.

The Sunday Poem: J. Lorraine Brown

American Life in Poetry: Column 035

BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE

Massachusetts poet J. Lorraine Brown has used an unusual image in “Tintype on the Pond, 1925.” This poem, like many others, offers us a unique experience, presented as a gift, for us to respond to as we will. We need not ferret out a hidden message. How many of us will recall this little scene the next time we see ice skates or a Sunday-dinner roast?


Tintype on the Pond, 1925

Believe it or not,
the old woman said,
and I tried to picture it:
a girl,
the polished white ribs of a roast
tied to her boots with twine,
the twine coated with candle wax
so she could glide
uninterrupted
across the ice—
my mother,
skating on bones.

Reprinted from “Eclipse” by permission of the author. Poem copyright © 2004 by J. Lorraine Brown. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.

Lingering Flowers in the Yard

NOB HILL--I don't know about your neighborhood, but here some flowers continue to bloom. Their beauty is startling, especially in this week of falling brown leaves.

Of course, there is the concern of climate change. I saw a program on TV the other night about the mini ice age in the 17th through the 19th centuries. How northern Europe lost their vinyards due to the cold. How ice changed the history of Spain and the Spanish Armada. I fear nothing can stop the changes that seem to be occurring.

Meanwhile, we are treated to the beautiful swansong of autumn slowly slipping away to the southern horizon. Gone are the long hours of sun. Gone is the search for shade.

This is the time of year I first came to New Mexico back in 1970. The warmth of that low sun healed my gray, cold, Chicago-battered soul.

This sun was so welcoming...like a bright smile on the face of someone you would like to meet.

I never left.

Johnny_Mango's Sunday Wallpaper

NOB HILL--Can you identify this? Yes, I thought you could.

The Sunday Poem: Jim Daniels

American Life in Poetry: Column 034

BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE

In this poem by Pittsburgh resident Jim Daniels, a father struggles to heal his son’s grief after an incident at school. The poem reminds us that when we’re young little things can hurt in a big way.


Dim

Today my son realized someone’s smarter
than him. Not me or his mom —
he still thinks we know everything —
one of the other kids, Nathan. Making fun
of him at the computer terminal
for screwing up at the math game.
Other kids laughing at him. Second grade.
I’m never gonna be as smart as him,
he says.
I’m never gonna be as smart
as half my students if we’re talking
IQs. He doesn’t want me to explain.
He wants me to acknowledge
that he’s dumb. He’s lying in bed
and taking his glasses off and on,
trying to get them perfectly clean
for the morning. I’m looking around
his dark room for a joke or some
decent words to lay on him. His eyes
are glassy with almost-tears. Second grade.
The world wants to call on him.
I take his hand in mine.

Reprinted from “The Paterson Literary Review,” No. 32, by permission of the author. Copyright � 2004 by Jim Daniels, whose most recent book is “Show and Tell: New and Selected Poems” University of Wisconsin Press, 2004. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.

Free Joy Harjo!

UNM--This just in from UNM's English Grad Student Assoc.:

This Friday, Joy Harjo will be giving her first reading in
Albuquerque since returning to UNM.

When: 7 PM, Friday November 18th
Where: SUB, Acoma A & B

Joy Harjo, the Joseph M. Russo Professor of Creative
Writing at the University of New Mexico, is a
multi-talented artist of the Mvskoke/Creek Nation. Harjo
is an internationally known poet, performer, writer and
musician.

Joy Harjo is a world-class poet and musician. The last poet I heard read at the SUB (Student Union Building) was Sarah Manguso who was fabulous...as well as an icon among younger poets. The poets this series brings in are certainly worth your time. And it is FREE!

As if you aren't already excited enough, Harjo has her own BLOG! Check it out.

The Super Goathead...More Pictures

OFF THE SOUTH VALLEY BIKE TRAIL--I wrote a post for this morning's Duke City Fix showing a terrible looking plant that could be called the "Super Goathead" because each sticker is more than an inch in diameter. Kelly commented,

Those supergoat head balls look like the seedpods of the sacred datura, also known as jimson weed. Check this site for info:
http://www.b-and-t-world-se...

Thanks, Kelly. Just to be sure I am posting a couple more pictures. Albloggerque gives full-screen enlargements, so click on the pix and check it out.


The top picture shows Bob Evans and the whole plant. Actually, the plant seems to grow low to the ground and is bigger than the frame of the photo.

The next picture shows dried seed pods...truly terrifying...even for Mr. Tuffy.

The last picture shows those boogers with my sunglasses in back of them for size comparison.

What do you all think? Is this jimson weed? Yikes.

Oh, Say Can You See...

THE PIT--Even from our seats near the ceiling it was obvious that the Wilson Sisters had talent. I hope they are invited back next year for another exciting national anthem. As I fumbled to get out my camera to take this shot, The Artist Ken Saville remarked, "It's about time!"

After the anthem, sports fans continued to file into the rows...including the 6'8" guy sitting two rows in front of us. He was SO large that the 6'5" giant that sits directly in front of us MOVED! Now that's large! As funny as that was, I couldn't seem to get my camera around either of those guys. So let me summarize: the Lobo women won.

We play Wednesday night right here in the semi-finals of the Pre-season WNIT against Oklahoma University. I got tickets today...and by the way...I didn't get our regular seats!

Johnny_Mango's Sunday Wallpaper

NOB HILL--I'm going to try putting up a picture every week for those of you who like to periodically change your desktop background. Enlarge...then right click...and set as wallpaper. As least that is how I would do it.Downtown on Central Ave. Looking East

The Sunday Poem: Katy Giebenhain

American Life in Poetry: Column 033

BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE

Katy Giebenhain, an American living in Berlin, Germany, depicts a ritual that many diabetics undergo several times per day: testing one’s blood sugar. The poet shows us new ways of looking at what can be an uncomfortable chore by comparing it to other things: tapping trees for syrup, checking oil levels in a car, milking a cow.


Glucose Self-Monitoring

A stabbing in miniature, it is,
a tiny crime,
my own blood parceled
drop by drop and set
on the flickering tongue
of this machine.
It is the spout-punching of trees
for syrup new and smooth
and sweeter
than nature ever intended.
It is Sleeping Beauty's curse
and fascination.
It is the dipstick measuring of oil
from the Buick's throat,
the necessary maintenance.
It is every vampire movie ever made.
Hand, my martyr without lips,
my quiet cow.
I'll milk your fingertips
for all they're worth.
For what they're worth.
Something like a harvest, it is,
a tiny crime.

Reprinted from “Best of Prairie Schooner: Fiction and Poetry,” University of Nebraska Press, 2001, by permission of the author, whose most recent book is "Good Morning and Good Night", University of Illinois Press, 2005. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.

Time Out! Lobos vs. Oral Roberts

THE PIT--Four of us have season tickets to women's basketball. The Artist Ken Saville and I went down by the floor, leaving Mary and MaryAnn to suffer in the thin air of row 2. (The numbers start at the top). Ken has a fine eye for the women's game...and an even better eye for spotting cheerleader talent. I better remind the reader that Ken looks upon these young women as a total professional. He is, after all, an artist.

Nevertheless, we encountered some of the same problems that beset us sitting up at the top: that is...big obstructions. We ended up sitting behind a big-eared wolf with fuzzy hair. We did manage to get the flavor of the game but not too many shots of the action.

For a complete recap of the game, browse the GOLOBOS website. It is very complete. But down on the floor, first half play fell into 4 acts:

• Act 1: Wholesale substitutions by Oral Roberts (5 out and 5 new players in). This went on every 2 or 3 minutes for most of the first half.
• Act 2: Lobos lead 12-0. ORU couldn't buy a basket and they kept turning the ball over.
• Act 3: ORU settles down and Lobos fall asleep. The score was now 17-15.
• Act 4: Julie Briody, who had lost her starting position to the hero of the Metro State game Brandi Kimble, entered stage left and in her usual herky-jerky style scored, defended, and bounced around the floor like a souped-up Ever-Ready rabbit. The score at the half: 29-20. The picture above is of Julie Briody (#40). You can't really see her, but neither could anybody else.

At halftime Ken and I abandoned camp near the floor for our paid seats atop Lobo Mesa. Tempers had soured at this point, both courtside and in the stands. The ORU coach picked up a technical. Then after a particularly jarring pick set by Dionne Marsh resulting in the ORU player being smacked into the varnish at the top of the key where she lay for a few moments before being helped to her feet by a teammate and staggering to midcourt, well...Lobo Coach Don Flanagan picked up a T for charging out on the floor to protest the called foul. He later said it was the first pick that Dionne had set in her Lobo career and he was afraid she might never set another one if he didn't stick up for her.

The crowd was going nutz. The referees were afraid they would need more than a mere police escort to leave the building safely. The players regrouped. With the score now 48-41 the game seemed to be slowly slipping away. Senior Abbie Letz later said,

"I think all of us kind of got together and said, 'You know what, coach has his deal, that's his thing.' '' Letz said. "We had to play through the refs, we had to play through their team. ... Our crowd got behind us and really picked us up."

Meanwhile Ken had picked out emerging talent in the cheerleader pool...the one in the sexy French style leg brace. I remind you, he IS a professional. At any rate, the Lobos won 69-52. It was a great tune-up for the crowd, which already sounded in mid-season form. Sunday we take on California in round 2 of the Pre-Season WNIT.

BBC Graph Outlines the Fall of GW Bush

NOB HILL--BBC News published this graph of Bush's approval rating since he took office annotated with major events. I generally stay away from national issues, but this is just too full of raw meat.

The Ghosts of 1000 Texans Still Whisper in the Bosque

OFF THE SOUTH VALLEY BIKE TRAIL--The call of the wild led Bob Evans and me to turn south at the end of the diversion channel instead of heading back north to Rio Bravo Blvd. We crossed the wash-out and pedaled into the bosque. This is the site of General Sibley's encampment of Confederate troops on their way back from defeat at the hands of Union General Canby in Glorieta Pass. There were about 1000 men bivouaced among the cottonwoods near the river on land belonging to southern sympathizer Judge Baird. They had lost their supplies: ammunition, food, water wagons. Most of their pack horses and mules lay dead 100 miles to the north, shot and still hitched to their burnt wagons.


These Confederate forces were part of the last Pike charge in American history. He didn't have enough guns for all his troops when he left Texas, so Sibley armed the unarmed with long, sharp poles called pikes. They were used at Valverde just south of Socorro. My god.


Now these, the defeated, were trying to make it back to Texas...living off the land, carrying what water they could. They had hoped to find many more sympathizers who would help them. They had miscalculated. And living off the land with a thousand men proved to be impossible.


The battle at Valverde Ford between the forces of Canby and Sibley would form the fictional background for the Civil War battle scene in Clint Eastwood's film, The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly.


Later, Sibley would be accused of cowardice and being drunk during both the battles of Valverde and Glorieta. He had missed both battles due to "illness." And here, in this cottonwood forest, one can almost hear the echoing complaints of the foot soldiers that had been so poorly served by their General.

Nothing marks this spot. By vehicle, it is at the far west end of Shirk Rd. SW. By bike, well...turn south and just keep going.