New Mexican or old Mexican?
by Gary Torres
Jun 15, 2011 | 1956 views | 0 0 comments | 11 11 recommendations | email to a friend | print
MY CAVE, MY VIEW

Howdy folks.  I bet you are surprised to see this newspaper article.  Well, like an old long lost relative that shows up when you win the lottery, I just keep on coming back. 

I have been busy. I am working down in Farmington, New Mexico.  In the last four years, I have worked in Colorado, California, Idaho and now New Mexico. 

Not many small newspapers can match the San Juan Record for having a western states correspondent traveling the world to bring you the news.  Oh, that’s right I don’t report the news, I make it up as I go.

This last weekend, I ran in a triathalon from hell.  I have done a few dumb things in my life. Okay, I have done lots of dumb things in my life.  But this time, I paid $50 to run a five mile race through the desert; one mile in a sandy wash bottom, one mile straight up a hill, one mile on cobble stone, one mile straight down a steep hill, and one mile around a lake on a trail where one misplaced foot and you would drop 50 feet into the water and drown or be eaten. 

The only thing that makes me feel a little better is that I was able to convince two friends (now maybe former friends) to do the race with me.

Now that I live in New Mexico, several people call me a “New Mexican” which is better than being called an “old Mexican”; which is all I got when I was in Monticello. 

Kind of interesting the state question of New Mexico is “Red or Green?”, which of course, being from Utah, I thought referred to which color of Jello you wanted. 

But alas, it refers to which kind of chili you want.  And I mean you can get chili or Tabasco Sauce on just about everything down here. 

The local McBurger even has an option to add chili.  I do have to admit, it makes being away from my mom a little easier because they have pretty darn good chili down here.

In spite of being a “New Mexican”, I feel like I am getting older.  I have two grandkids and three more on the way.  Apparently, they are producing like rabbits.  I am a grandpa and my too kind and loving wife hasn’t even trained me to put the toilet lid down when finished. 

I am a pretty good grandpa though, as I can spoil and sugar those kids up with the best of them and we are both pretty happy to take a nap in the afternoon.  I have not taught them to swear; although, that may come if I take them golfing.

I am looking forward to seeing people on the Pioneer Day celebration.  It is time for the annual pre-class reunion “dump your plump” yo-yo diet. 

We all have to try and lose a few pounds in time for the annual pilgrimage to the mother-land and the strut your stuff stroll in the Park on the 24th. 

Listen, if you show up to the celebration with a good tan and a new girlfriend (named Eye-Candy Mandy), we are all going to know it’s a big mid-life crisis. 

So just be yourself and show up fat, dumb and happy listening to your 8-track tapes of the Doobie Brothers. However, you should definitely think about losing the mullet or lamb-chop side burns; neither is in any more.
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