the mother road

We took the last-of-the-summer trip to New Mexico to visit not-so-close family and chase lore through the ruins found on great grandfathers property. something fishy about how the family shoved off my father in-law when he was orphaned. or perhaps it was just my very active imagination spinning into a tale of land, inheritance, greed and how those three will completely trump familial love. ah, every family has a story, don't they?

we took the 40 which is in most part is route 66. lots of random roadtrip photo ops to be had indeed. i mean, this is what i would expect to remember from it....gitchy, 'chief yellowfeather loves you' kinda stuff for my boys to stand in front of a cheese for my camera. lots of crap food, trashy magazines, hotel rooms and road tunes....oh and lots of opportunities for roadside pit stops which has become a favorite. so much that wyatt actually asks as we were prepping for the trip if he would be able to "go pee pee in the sand, mommy?"

all good stuff but i'm left with residue. i had forgotten all about the reservations the roads heading east wind through. i had forgotten about the abject poverty that makes a knot in my stomach. where dogs and shirtless boys wander the streets with equal abandon. i had forgotten that while our hideous excuse for a governor proudly demanded they pay theya faya sheya, the unemployment rate runs around the 70 percentile and violence is beyond commonplace in the shitholes we've so generously given the native americans. [something about blankets laced with smallpox comes to mind]



yeah, so here's me [still] with a knot in my stomach trying hard to justify my high quality problems. dammit. i really want to ruminate about my shit but i can't because i'd feel like an arse.
Jimmy Carter was quoted once saying something about globalization being a really good thing for rich people like us...that it's great if you have a computer, a cell phone, electricity and running water; things that about 70 percent of the rest of the population don't have.

really, i have nothing to bitch about. except maybe i wanna punch that plastic woman, sarah palin in the face. seriously. i saw a clip of Mrs. Bush, Mrs. McCain and her touring a hurricane relief center all smug and condescending with their painted faces and perky middle aged boobs. and just had an image of lining them all up, Three Stooges like, and slapping right down the line. ugh. and her kid Juno or whatever her name is...please, make them go AWAY.

and i've just about had it with the religious right....but they do, as usual, make for some fine fine comedy relief....i give you, my favorite photo from the trip.