Entering the Desert

October 31, 2012

I cannot make the universe obey me. I cannot make other people conform to my own whims and fancies. Thomas Merton

Happy Halloween, I suppose.

I flew to Albuquerque today to begin my Southwestern adventure. A toddler in the row ahead squealed unceasingly, partly in response to her older brother’s taunting, which the parents ignored. The flight attendant (gender not immediately certain) was dressed head to toe as a Bee Gee and paced the aisle to the repetitious serenade of “Staying Alive” belting from an iPod on his shirt. The Marine Corp member next to me was engrossed in a Glenn Beck book.

I was annoyed at all of them for disturbing my peace, or more accurately, blocking me from reaching a peace that Hurricane Sandy had already delayed by a day.

Once I reached New Mexico it was the Hertz agent’s turn to annoy me with her contrived cheeriness and stalled computer. After 10 too many minutes at the Hertz counter I head to the Center for Action & Contemplation, a place I have long admired and imagined visiting. But the man who answered the door didn’t help redeem the frustrating encounters from earlier in the day, seemingly underwhelmed by my spontaneous visit all the way from D.C. and my fondness for Richard Rohr. No tour? No introductions? Must I grill you with questions to make this side-trip worthwhile?? Ugh! More annoyance. (Can you tell I need a retreat?) I’m not sure what I expected would happen once I arrived there, but that was not it!

I’m irritated because what was to be a leisurely visit to a new city has turned rushed and superficial. I drive, as quickly as my poor-excuse-for-a-car Ford Fiesta can muster up the mountain road to Santa Fe.

Things brighten a bit. I couldn’t make a decision about lodging before leaving DC but had tucked away the memory of a kitschy retro motel that earned top ratings on Trip Advisor. It was meant to be a back-up to a more sophisticated B & B, but by the time I reached Santa Fe, I was too hungry and tired (and cranky) to search for an alternative. So the Silver Saddle Motel it would be. 

Nestled along the now over-developed Route 66, its charm is worth much more than the $52 room rate, which includes breakfast. Sure, there was a Doubletree right next door, but why not choose local when possible? Friendly, unpretentious, clean & tastefully decorated (if you like Wild West décor), and equipped with flat screens & wireless, the Silver Saddle Motel has all you could want! (Please humor me and Google it, if you haven’t already.)

Thanks to Jen, who searched Yelp for good restaurants in Santa Fe in between trick-or-treating with her son, I enjoyed a classic New Mexican dinner at The Plaza Cafe.

 

A member of the local fire department ordered a piece of banana cream pie at the table in front of me. When the two female diners in costume commented on the pie, the man brought it to their table and insisted they try it. I can’t see that happening in D.C., can you?

The shops closed around 6, so not wanting to waste my only evening in Santa Fe, I walked a few cobblestone blocks to The Lensic, Santa Fe’s Performing Arts Center since 1931. I had seen “Phantom of the Opera” on its marquee before dinner and thought it might be a quaint, but enjoyable performance of familiar Broadway songs, and the ticket was just $10. 

Oh my. First, Halloween is apparently a big deal in Santa Fe, as evidenced by the costumed audience that filled the theatre and offered a round of applause as each new costume entered and took his/her seat. Second, this was to be no reproduction of Andrew Lloyd Weber’s Phantom. Oh no. The Lensic would be showing the original (1930ish?) Phantom of the Opera on screen… a silent film. But wait, there’s more. This showing would be accompanied by The Alloy Orchestra. Can you call a 3-man group whose instruments are old household appliances an orchestra? Hmm. Ok, I’m being critical. It was…unique. And in all honesty, the original film is pretty creepy- perfect for Halloween night.