More on New Mexico

Our recent trip to New Mexico was excellent for two reasons: it was a distinct kind of trip from what we’ve typically had over the last few years, and the landscape was unique and gorgeous. You can look back at the pictures to understand that second part—mountainous terrain scarred by terrible fires that continues to fight back paired with high-altitude meadows, all of which abut scrubby desert; amazing cultural artifacts dating back centuries that speak to both a proud indigenous history and an impactful, conflict-ridden European influence; plus a smattering of my hobbies like baseball and disc golf to round it out.

These wonderful elements established how we would spend our days, but we didn’t solely plan this trip to see a place we’d never visited. That will come in the future. This was a trip to spend time with two people.

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New Mexico

Erin and I returned late last night/early this morning from visiting her brother and his wife in New Mexico. It was our first trip there. We spent most of our time near Los Alamos, and had a day trip to Santa Fe. It was glorious.

While I intend to write a bit more when I’m not running on fumes after a long travel day with several delays, here are the highlights through pictures.

How Bold of You, California

I received a surprise letter in the mail this week from my friendly, not-so-neighborhood California Department of Motor Vehicles, specifically the collections arm of that renowned institution. Since I didn’t do them the justice of notifying them I had moved to Connecticut, their system assumed I was illegally driving my car around California with expired registration for the last seven or eight months.

Now, let’s not worry too much about the double jeopardy implied by the fact that if I were doing that, I certainly would have received a ticket or two at this point to go with the fees I already allegedly owe.

Here’s the kicker: the letter they sent was not via USPS forwarding. They sent it directly to my Connecticut address, so there is some record, somewhere, that I live there now.

Luckily, this has been resolved relatively quickly. There was a phone number I could call to dispute the charges, and I quickly got on the line with a nice person who told me what to expect. They were going to send me an email where I needed to detail when I left California, when I arrived in Connecticut, when I first registered my car here, and a copy of the registration document.

That email never showed up, but they gave me the email address from which I should expect it. I emailed them directly and received a notice that the DMV’s records were updated—the only remaining step is to call again so they can forward me to the Collections folks and settle the record. Why I have to do that is beyond me, but hey, I’m just trying to follow the rules.

I’m frustrated by the “guilty until proven innocent” tinge to this situation. Thousands of people must be similarly caught unaware by their policy, and it falls into the vast bucket of laws and regulations, which makes it extremely easy to accidentally violate because you have to think to ask the right question to discover said regulation.

Two Interchangeable Mushy Veggie Lunches

As this post is going up, and ideally not while I’m writing it, I recently had three wisdom teeth removed. It’s mushtown for my meals, and that reminded me of two nearly identical lunches I started making in the last couple of months. They differ only in their spices.

My website isn’t a recipe blog, so let’s start with the important information.

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Inauguration

I’m fortunate to have been in seventh grade precisely when I was. Every four years in October, my middle school’s seventh-grade social studies classes held an election unit. Students were selected to be presidential, senate, and gubernatorial candidates; there were campaign managers, Secret Service agents, lobbyists, fundraisers, and speech writers.1I got to write my speeches on large cue cards like they use on SNL. It was good-natured, well-constructed, thoughtful, and impactful. Twelve years old was a good time for this, too: we were mature enough to engage with some of the policies but not cynical or set in our ways beyond whatever influence our parents had over us. I don’t recall any personal conflicts. Everyone focused on embodying their roles as best as possible, and I had a tremendous amount of fun.

I don’t remember who the seventh graders elected in 2008, but I know who America elected. It was the first election I felt conscious of, and I can still feel the palpable excitement, the Yes, We Can stickers in the hallways, the sense of progress and accomplishment that came with a relatively young African American man making it to the White House.

My biology teacher that year was a snarky man who was a bit tough on us—my older sister hated him, and my parents weren’t that pleased during conferences—but I got along with him fairly well because I was a know-it-all, especially during that year of my life. He was, in retrospect, definitely gay during a time when that would still be considered taboo in the affluent suburbs of Minneapolis. I can’t speak to his personal politics—Obama’s campaign opposed gay marriage in 2008—but this man felt strongly and optimistically about the result of the election. It so happened that Obama’s inauguration was during biology class, and he canceled the lesson so we could watch it.2To be clear, it’s possible that every teacher did this. I don’t remember. But my teacher made a point of declaring the importance of this event.

I remember being awestruck by the vast crowd gathered on the Mall, Yo-Yo Ma playing on stage, and a general sense of wonderment, pomp, and import surrounding the proceedings.

Today—as this post is published—will mark the second inauguration of a gaudy man who is an affront to the office he holds. He lacks the care, professionalism, solemnity, strength, tact, or humanity one should maintain to be a respected president. Backed by the money of ass-kissing CEOs and surrounded by incompetent and ill-experienced hangers-on, he’ll once again ascend to a reality show version of the presidency that suits his impressions from television. For every thoughtful moment from the Obama and Biden inaugurations that celebrated the beauty, diversity, and progress of America, we’ll see a funhouse mirror version worthy of a man who has no resolution to problems beyond grandstanding and ill-begotten money.

I have no clue whether the last three elections resulted in units for seventh graders in my old middle school. I’d like to believe that the teachers there managed to run something valuable despite the troubling and divisive rhetoric, laying a foundation for a future generation to have some hope of pushing past whatever comes after the next four years. But it’s a shame that they’ll be subjected to this flashy and distasteful inauguration that relies on a foundation of hate and disgust rather than well-earned pride and hope for the future.

  • 1
    I got to write my speeches on large cue cards like they use on SNL.
  • 2
    To be clear, it’s possible that every teacher did this. I don’t remember. But my teacher made a point of declaring the importance of this event.

Year of Opportunity 2024 Review

At the start of this year I wrote this about the Year of Opportunity:

Characterized by a desire to explore and treat new experiences with more positivity and excitement, I hope to make the most of what could be our final year living in California while also increasing my appreciation for the life I’ve built.

It certainly was our final year in California, and that shifted my mindset to focus not only on the opportunities in San Francisco but also any that would be available once we moved.

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