Impossible Christmas Dreams

By S. Derrickson Moore
I noticed while scanning Facebook postings this week that my niece, Brandy, wants a hovercraft for Christmas.
Her mom, my sister Sally, gave Brandy a copy of the Hammacher-Schlemmer holiday catalog, and I have to admit the catalog description’s pretty alluring: “This is the hovercraft that glides over land and water, yet also soars in the air up to 70 mph with the aid of integrated wings.”
It can be yours for a mere $190,000. That might sound like a lot, but then this is not just ANY hovercraft. This one has “a 130-hp twin-cylinder, liquid-cooled gasoline engine, turbocharged and fuel-injected, that drives its 60-inch wood/carbon composite thrust propeller while a 1,100-rpm 34-inch lift fan inflates its durable vinyl-coated nylon skirt for hovering above the ground. Operating in fresh- or saltwater and up to 30 percent inclines over sand, mud, grass, swamp, desert, ice and snow, its wings and horizontal elevator enable pilots to simply hop over water- or land-based obstacles up to 20 feet high.”
Hmm. I think I’ll hold out for a solar-powered version.
It’s not the only unique and excessive holiday giving opportunity that crossed my desk this morning.
Have a film buff on your list? How about the infamous horse head from “The Godfather” or the wheels from the iconic flying bicycle in “E.T.?” Full disclosure: the auction house wants you to “please note that the actual scene in the film used a real horse’s head,” but that this is the official, genuine “rehearsal prop that Don Corleone (Marlon Brando) uses to force studio head Jack Woltz (John Marley) to put his friend, singer Johnny Fontane (Al Martino) in his next major movie.” So, you can be assured that it’s probably been ogled, or even touched, by some pretty famous dudes.
The bike wheels are the real deal from “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,” according to the Premier Props media release. It’s described as “miniature bike wheels, from the most iconic image in sci-fi history, the flying of the boys on their BMX Dirt Bikes across the moon over the forest at the end of the film.”
How much? Who knows? But you still have time to place your bid at the Premiere Props Hollywood Auction Extravaganza XII Nov. 23 and 24 in California. There will be more than 1,000 movie props and costumes on the block, from such movies as “Transformers,” “Citizen Kane,” “Fantasia,” “Planet of the Apes” and “Star Wars.”
For the downlow and bidding procedures, contact premiereprops.com or call 888-761-PROP.
Let’s head back to the upscale impossible dreams from the original and still over-the-top champion fantasy gift purveyors, Neiman Marcus.
For the got-rocks Bickersons who have everything, how about the His & Hers Ultimate Outdoor Entertainment System?
“You click a button and your television emerges from its discreet, underground cache, telescoping upward and unfolding to reveal its mega 201″ C SEED screen. The accompanying speakers ... use the most advanced marine-grade components specifically developed for super yachts,” according to the 2013 Neiman Marcus catalog.
You’ll also get a satellite and DVD management system, lots of state-of-the-art, high-tech goodies, a built-in movie package featuring up to 300 movies and concerts and two Apple mini iPad remotes. All yours for just $1,500,000.
On a budget? How about their Bespoke Global Falconry Companion adventure. It’s your chance “to take part in an ancient sport once reserved for nobles of Medieval Europe, the Middle East, and the Mongolian Empire.” There are lots of unbelievable details, but let’s bottom-line it: It’s $150,000 and includes a 20-karat gold-plated perch and other opulent accessories for the bird.
Maybe you’ve had a good year and want more than the flights of fantasy. You’d like something solid for everyday use. How about the Neiman Marcus 2014 Aston Martin Vanquish Volante, one of just 10 such vehicles on the planet? You can enjoy “its elegant profile and confident, sexy stance” in your own driveway for only $344,500.
That hovercraft is beginning to look like a bargain stocking stuffer. Let’s get one for everyone on our list. We can economize by watching our old TV, indoors, for another year.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at  dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @DerricksonMoore on Twitter or Tout, or call 575-541-5450.

Are we ourown multimedia conglomerates?

 By  S. Derrickson Moore

LAS CRUCES >> We all know the line: a wry remark that ended up being the mantra for a couple of generations.

“In the future, everybody will be world famous for 15 minutes,” Andy Warhol opined in the late 1960s.

The quote has become a cliché, but I think even the Pop Art prophet would be astounded at what has happened over the decades, as self-obsessed Baby Boomers, members of the Me Generation and Millennials have marinated their creative impulses in the fecund stew of social media and ever more ubiquitous technology.

To say we have created a monster would be a gross understatement. In fact, the monsters are not legions of people happy with their 15 minutes of fame. What we have are millions of individual multi-media conglomerates, many of whom seem determined to share their lives 24-7.

But what happens if we have a billion performers and no audience? Will we end up leading parallel, insular lives? Is U.S. Congressional deadlock an ominous harbinger of our logical societal end: multimedia sound and fury, signifying nothing and, in fact, preventing any significant communication and action?

I think about this. A lot. I’ve spent a lifetime helping people tell their stories and sharing some of my own via newspapers, magazines, books (fiction and non-fiction), TV shows, phone calls, conference calls, speeches, documentaries, plays, letters, brochures, public service announcements, movies, videos, songs, e-mails, photographs, paintings, sculptures, multimedia works, poems, libraries and cooperative networking, print and broadcast ads, multi-media blitzes, advertising and public relations campaigns.

I’ve done it all. Time constraints and deadlines are more involved in some of these forms of communication than others, but everything on that list has some things in common: thought, planning and preparation are required.

And now, social media has been added to the mandatory repertoire: Facebook, YouTube, blogs, (personal and professional, if anyone really knows the difference anymore), Skype, Twitter, Tout, Instagram and half a dozen other networks, apps and more. If the medium was once the message, immediacy seems to be the message, the raison d’etre, of contemporary social media.

I’m amazed that some social media addicts have time to live any sort of life between obsessive-compulsive updates on daily minutia and relaying cyber flotsam.

Can sharing chain mail or an image of a cute puppy compare with sharing a picnic in the park with your significant other, a ball game with your child, a walk with your actual puppy? Especially if screen time prevents you from any real face time and human interactions?

Can an online Poke, a Like or a Share ever have the same meaning as a heart-to-heart talk, a hug, a kiss? Can a text or a tweet ever replace the ability to have a real conversation?

In an era of what seems to be increasingly limited time and resources, and ever expanding technological options, is cyber outreach better than nothing?

Maybe. There are times when a quick Facebook check, a tweet or a Tout produce uplifting moments of connection with a long-lost friend. But mostly, it makes me wistful for time for a more satisfying connection: a visit, a long phone or Skype conversation.

I still cling to what might be a retro notion, that pondering, planning, research, creativity, editing and otherwise putting in some careful thought can make just about any form of communication more effective.

And I sense change in the wind. With a billion people starring in their own reality shows, if we want to have any real-time social interactions, we’ll have to become not just our own superstars, but also our own supereditors. We’ll have to decide how much time we want to spend expanding our own multimedia conglomerates, and how much time we want to devote to living and sharing — really living, really sharing — actual lives with others.

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore @lcsun-news.com,at DerricksonMoore on Twitter, or call 575-541-5450.

BRAIN FREEZE WITHOUT ICE CREAM BENEFITS

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450

I’ve been wondering if there’s an age, or some other irrevocable, measurable point, when we run out of easy access to gray matter storage capabilities in what my M.D. soulmate calls “the old squash.”

If so, I may have officially hit the squash wall recently when I returned from vacation and tried to cope with more than 2,000 emails and our recently installed, challenging news processing system on my new newsroom PC, the same day I was presented with my brand new iPhone and attempted to simultaneously Tout and Tweet. And blog and update Facebook and assorted other social media.

I’ve experienced some significant brain freeze moments that had nothing to do with ice cream.

There are times when I could get overwhelmed just contemplating the number of passwords I need to access the basic resources and technology that have somehow become necessary to conduct my daily life on this planet.

These days, it seems you hardly have time to crack open a manual or access a tutorial or webinar, or retrieve your messages before the device or software has been replaced by a newer version.

I’m still debating whether it’s me or my cyberuniverse, but sometime recently, the trend seems to have gone from ever-more user-friendly to passive-aggressive-frustrating or even downright HAL-hostile. (For you whippersnappers, HAL was the name of the homicidal computer in Arthur C. Clarke’s classic tale and movie, “2001: A Space Odyssey.”)

When I look back, it may be that 2013 will go down in my personal history as the year I faced the fact that my photographic memory has finally run out of film ... and that even that analogy is antiquated.

Aging and its impact on eidetic memory (commonly called “photographic memory”) is something I somehow never considered. My mentor on that front was my dad. He memorized the contents of an entire encyclopedia set one summer in his boyhood when he was bedridden with a bad case of poison ivy. He frequently regaled us with esoteric and sometimes seriously outdated facts. He also seemed to be able to retain epic poems and ballads after one hearing.

I never attained his skill level, but I found I could conjure passages from large quantities of textbooks by visualizing their position on a page, a trick that came in handy during exam weeks in college, when my eidetic skills seemed to peak. Why doesn’t it work with computer screens?

But performance was always erratic in my case. I’ve never been good with names, but I still have an almost uncanny ability to remember birthdays or conversations with people I met just once, decades ago. Great quotes can stay with me for a lifetime, a good thing since I sometimes have trouble deciphering my own handwriting.

Will technology enhance and preserve our mental facilities or hasten their disintegration?

I think about that a lot as I continue my quest to convert on the fly ... a nice phrase I learned years ago, when I was helping a group of previously mild-mannered librarians develop the first automated system of its kind to link corporate, public and academic libraries, while maintaining full library services and opening new branches. There was stress. There was confusion.

Occasionally, I still amuse my whippersnapper colleagues with references to Twitting and Tooting instead of Tweeting and Touting.

Some days, everything is peachy. I have come to think of Tweeting as a kind of poetry. And I’m downright excited by the creative potentials of telling a little audio-visual Tout story in 45 seconds. On a recent Saturday, I conjured up a lovely vision of jazz, blue skies, curly fries and colorful arts and crafts as I circled a fiesta with a director’s eye and a poetic spirit. I was ready to whip out my iPhone and Tout my heart out.

I searched my purse, car and camera bag. The good news is that I’ve conscientiously established my new daily charging habit (my old phone could go weeks on a single charge). The bad news was that my fully charged phone was still plugged in back at the office, 35 miles away.

Communicating has always been natural and easy for me. And fun. Will technology ultimately continue to facilitate or terminally complicate my lifelong mission?

Stay tuned. I’ll keep you posted. If I can figure out this dang app ...

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @DerricksonMoore on Twitter or Tout, or call 575-541-5450.

What's you favorite fiesta?

Your Favorite Fiesta

By S. Derrickson Moore

What’s your favorite fiesta?

There’s a lot of competition and it’s a hard call.

Over a long and festive lifetime, I’ve enjoyed St. Lawrence Seaway festivals in Michigan and Rose Festivals in Portland, Ore., along with decades of salutes to assorted produce, princesses, queens and even fish, from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest.

I’ve hoisted steins and danced polkas at Oktoberfests (the real thing, in Germany, and imitations throughout the world).

I’ve been front and center (and sometimes even on the planning committee) for sophisticated soirees in Palm Beach and South Florida and attended polished urban celebrations in New York. I was even in residence nearby when the iconic original Woodstock changed the world, or at least the way we think of rock festivals. I had a newborn baby at the time, and after seeing the movies of infants in the mud, I’m still not sorry we skipped it. But to this day, my son still expresses regrets that we missed a chance to be part of rock history. Even if he wouldn’t have remembered it, he figures it would have looked good on album covers.

That’s the thing about fiestas. They can be very personal, and the best fiesta is in the eye of the beholder. Your favorites can depend on where you are, who you’re with and what’s important in your life, long term or at the moment.

I can still be surprised at your motivations and fiesta animals, even after decades of asking people what brought them to celebrations of various cultures, and cultural groups and causes, art, beer, wine, saints, religious holidays, jazz, drama, classical music, rock, pop, enchiladas, fast ducks and hot chiles.

Pilgrimages make sense for deeply spiritual occasions and reasons, like the annual Our Lady of Guadalupe Festival trek up Tortugas Mountain, for instance.

But I admit I’ve been amazed at the number of people who seem to communicate an almost religious fervor about finally making it to events like the Hatch Chile Festival. Red and green pilgrims have told me they’ve planned honeymoons and bucket list vacations around the annual pepper fiesta.

There are people who would genuinely rather be there for the running of the ducks in Deming, than, say, more famous events like the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain.

I know multi-generational families that plan their reunions around the Las Cruces International Mariachi Festival, the Whole Enchilada Festival or other favorite events.

In my Santa Fe days, I talked to collectors who had waited a lifetime to attend Indian Market, though those of us who lived there thought it was a madhouse to be avoided at all costs. We found it much more meaningful to visit Pueblos and studios and smaller events where we had a better chance to get to know artists and the art and culture that inspired them.

Whatever your preferences, it’s great to be in what might very well be the festival capital of the world during FTFS (Full-Tilt Fiesta Season).

It’s hard to imagine a bad fiesta in a place where the mood is mellow, fiesta prices are usually pretty reasonable and the weather is almost always good to great.

But if I had to name my favorite fiesta weekend (here, or anywhere else I can think of), it would probably be the first weekend in November. Most years, including this one, it’s the time for both the Doña Ana Arts Council Renaissance ArtsFaire in Young Park, and Día de los Muertos celebrations in Mesilla. Both festivals beautifully showcase the friendly blend of cultures and remarkable artistic talents of our citizens.

In prime time fiesta mode, we can transcend the barriers of time and space and realms of the dead and the living. And we can munch on sugar skulls and dragon toes while we celebrate lives well-lived and days very worth living and celebrating, here in the fiesta capital of the world.

¡Viva FTFS!

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @DerricksonMoore on Twitter or call 575-541-5450.

Humunga enchilada's back, dragon will return in 2014

By S. Derrickson Moore

Magellan the dragon and the World’s Largest Enchilada are back!

Nope, it’s not the plot of the latest sci-fi flick (though you could do worse; aspiring filmmakers, take note). It’s evidence, at a time we really need it, that community spirit will get you through times of limited money better than money could get you through times of no fiesta spirit.

Just a year ago, it seemed that Las Cruces’ crumbling fiesta infrastructure would mean a sad “adios” to some of our most beloved festival institutions.

Robert Estrada’s humongous concoction, which once won the Guinness Book of Records title of World’s Largest Enchilada, was absent from the 2012 Whole Enchilada Festival. But community leaders rallied, purchased some new equipment, and the legendary founder of Roberto’s Restaurant — and the Whole Enchilada Festival, itself, newcomers should know — was back leading the TWEF parade and on site with his crew the next morning, cooking up the giant treat once again.

We’d hardly wiped the spicy red chile enchilada sauce off our chins when the good news came this week that Magellan the dragon will be back, too, and stationed in the pond at Young Park during the Doña Ana Arts Council’s Renaissance ArtsFaire Nov. 2 and 3.

Last year, it seemed the brave creature had sacrificed himself in a last blaze of glory during the New Mexico Centennial Parade, where the dragon literally fell apart valiantly promenading down Las Cruces streets.

Only the dragon’s head put in an appearance at last year’s RenFaire. Not in the lake, but convalescing in a “hospital tent,” where kids and faire-goers were asked to contribute to his repair and recovery.

ObamaCare doesn’t cover dragons, but collaborative community spirit does.

“We raised about $1,000 at the faire. And then Pat Hynes stepped in and got the New Mexico State University engineering department’s Capstone program involved,” said Kathleen Albers, DAAC’s executive director.

They worked with artist Bob Diven, New Mexico Renaissance man and designer of the beloved beast.

“The dragon shed his skin,” Albers reports, and thanks to the collaboration, has been renewed, reborn — reincarnated, even. A phoenix has risen from the ruins in the kind of artistic milagro that could only happen in Las Cruces.

“The Renaissance meets the Space Age!” Albers said.

The new incarnation will be a lean, mean, smoke-breathing, head-turning, solar-powered dragon machine, with photovoltaic scales. “Magellan will be a little bit shorter and lighter, so he’ll fit inside his storage shed. And he’ll be back in the lake and he’ll be able to turn his head when canoes come by or something catches his attention. And he’ll be able to breathe smoke,” Albers said.

That will be a first.

“He never did breathe fire. Some people said he did, but that was just a rumor,” she said. There are also murmurs about a sex-change operation. Diven has said he always thought of his creation as a “she,” through the public seems to regard the beast as boyish. But what’s important is that Magellan is back, like the big enchilada, as a result of dauntless fiesta spirit.

In 2013, our querencia is, like our peppers, on a hot streak — spicy, working together, healing, filled with Full-Tilt Fiesta Season spirit and, well, smokin’. That’s pretty nice, and refreshing, in a month that started with a governmental shutdown, a national manifestation of can’t-do deadlock, just the opposite of our local down-home cooperative spirit.

Maybe it’s time we take Robert and the dragon on tour with a first stop at the U.S. House of Representatives, to demonstrate how we can transform hot air into sublimely roasted chile enchilada components.

I can’t wait for the movie version. We could call it “Mr. Estrada and Magellan Go To Washington.”

DEAD DAY CELEBRATES LIVES WELL LIVED

DEAD Day 101  By S. Derrickson Moore

dmoore@lcsun-news.com
@DerricksonMoore on Twitter

LAS CRUCES >> Día de los Muertos has been called “a day when heaven and earth meet” and “a celebration of lives well-lived.” In Las Cruces, it has become a beloved tradition, a time when Borderland cultures blend, showcasing and sometimes creatively combining Spanish, Mexican, American Indian and Anglo customs and beliefs.

Día De Los Muertos “is not a morbid holiday but a festive remembrance of Los Angelitos (children) and all souls (Los Difuntos),” according to a statement from the Calavera Coalition of Mesilla. “This celebration originated with the indigenous people of the American continent, the Aztec, Mayan, Toltec and the Inca. Now, many of the festivities have been transformed from their original pre-Hispanic origins. It is still celebrated throughout North America among Native American tribes. The Spanish arrived and they altered the celebration to coincide with the Catholic celebrations of All Saints Day (Nov. 1) and All Souls Day (Nov. 2).”

Continuing an annual Las Cruces Style tradition, here is a guide to some important terms and concepts relating to Day of the Dead celebrations, collected during 20 years of commemorations here.

 +alfeñique: Molded sugar figures used in altars for the dead.

+ancianos: Grandparents or elderly friends or relatives who have died; ancestors honored during the first (north) part of processions for Day of the Dead.

+angelitos: Literally “little angels,” refers to departed children and babies, traditionally honored during the first day of celebrations, Nov. 1, and the third (south) part of processions honoring the dead.

+anima sola: A lonely soul or spirit who died far from home or who is without amigos or relatives to take responsibility for its care.

+calascas: Handmade skeleton figurines which display an active and joyful afterlife, such as musicians or skeleton brides and grooms in wedding finery.

+calaveras: Skeletons, used in many ways for celebrations: bread and candies in the shape of skeletons are traditional, along with everything from small and large figures and decorations, skeleton head rattles, candles, masks, jewelry and T-shirts. It’s also the term for skull masks, often painted with bright colors and flowers and used in displays and worn in Day of the Dead processions.

+literary calaveras: Poetic tributes written for departed loved ones or things mourned and/or as mock epitaphs.

+Catrin and Catrina: Formally dressed couple, or bride and groom skeletons, popularized by renowned Mexican graphic artist and political cartoonist José Guadalupe Posada (1851-1913). In modern celebrations, Catrina is particularly popular and appears in many stylish outfits.

+copal: A fragrant resin from a Mexican tree used as incense, burned alone or mixed with sage in processions in honor of the dead.+•Días de los Muertos: Days of the Dead, usually celebrated Oct. 31 through Nov. 2 (the official date for Day of the Dead) in conjunction with All Souls Days or Todos Santos, the Catholic Feast of All Saints. Various Borderland communities, including Las Cruces, have their own celebration schedules in October and November. Look for altars and art exhibits around the Mesilla Valley, and our largest area celebration Nov. 1, 2 and 3 a on the Mesilla Plaza, also the site of a procession beginning at dusk Nov. 2.

+Difunto: Deceased soul, corpse, cadaver.

+La Flaca: Nickname for the female death figure, also known as La Muerte.

+Frida Kahlo: Mexican artist who collected objects related to the Day of the Dead. Her photo often appears in Día de los Muertos shrines or retablos.

+Los Guerreros: Literally, “the warriors,” are dead fathers, husbands, brothers and sons honored in the final (east) stop in Día De Los Muertos processions.

+marigolds: In Mexico, marigolds or “cempasuchil” are officially known as the “flower of the dead.” The flowers are added to processional wreaths at each stop, with one blossom representing each departed soul being honored. Sometimes, marigold pedals are strewn from the cemetery to a house. Their pungent fragrance is said to help the spirits find their way back home. Mums and paper flowers are also used.

+ mariposas: Butterflies, and sometimes hummingbirds, appear with skeletons to symbolize the flight of the soul from the body to heaven.

+ masks: Carried or worn during processions and other activities, masks can range from white face paint to simple molded plaster or papier-maché creations or elaborate painted or carved versions that become family heirlooms.

+ Las Mujeres: The women who have died are honored during the second (west) stop of Day of the Dead processions. After names of dead mothers, daughters, sisters and friends are called and honored, it is traditional for the crowd to sing a song for the Virgin of Guadalupe.

+ Náhuatl poetry: Traditional odes dedicated to the subject of death, dating back to the pre-Columbian era.

+ ofrenda: Traditional altar where offerings such as flowers, clothing, food, photographs and objects loved by the departed are placed. The ofrenda may be constructed in the home – usually in the dining room – at a cemetery, or may be carried in a procession. The ofrenda base is often an arch made of bent reeds. It is ornamented with special decorations, sometimes with heirlooms collected by families, much like Christmas ornaments. Decorations may include skeleton figures, toys and musical instruments in addition to offerings for a specific loved one.

+ pan de muertos: Literally, “bread of the dead.” It is traditionally baked in the shape of a skull, or calavera, and dusted with pink sugar. Here, local bakeries sometimes include red and green chile decorations.

+ papel picado: Decorations made of colored paper cut in intricate patterns.

+ Posada: José Guadalupe Posada, (1852-1913), the self-taught “printmaker to the people” and caricaturist was known for his whimsical calaveras, or skeletons, depicted wearing dapper clothes, playing instruments and otherwise nonchalantly conducting their everyday activities, sometimes riding on horse skeletons.

+ veladores: Professional mourners who help in the grief process in several ways, including candlelight vigils, prayers and with dramatic weeping and wailing.

+ Xolotlitzcuintle: Monster dog, sometimes depicted as a canine skeleton, sometimes as a Mexican hairless breed. Since pre-Columbian times, this Día de los Muertos doggy has, according to legend, been the departed’s friend, helping with the tests of the perilous crossing of the River Chiconauapan to Mictlan, the land of the dead.

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @derricksonmoore on Twitter or call 575-541-5450.

 101

Your Favorite Fiesta

By S. Derrickson Moore

What’s your favorite fiesta?

There’s a lot of competition and it’s a hard call.

Over a long and festive lifetime, I’ve enjoyed St. Lawrence Seaway festivals in Michigan and Rose Festivals in Portland, Ore., along with decades of salutes to assorted produce, princesses, queens and even fish, from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest.

I’ve hoisted steins and danced polkas at Oktoberfests (the real thing, in Germany, and imitations throughout the world).

I’ve been front and center (and sometimes even on the planning committee) for sophisticated soirees in Palm Beach and South Florida and attended polished urban celebrations in New York. I was even in residence nearby when the iconic original Woodstock changed the world, or at least the way we think of rock festivals. I had a newborn baby at the time, and after seeing the movies of infants in the mud, I’m still not sorry we skipped it. But to this day, my son still expresses regrets that we missed a chance to be part of rock history. Even if he wouldn’t have remembered it, he figures it would have looked good on album covers.

That’s the thing about fiestas. They can be very personal, and the best fiesta is in the eye of the beholder. Your favorites can depend on where you are, who you’re with and what’s important in your life, long term or at the moment.

I can still be surprised at your motivations and fiesta animals, even after decades of asking people what brought them to celebrations of various cultures, and cultural groups and causes, art, beer, wine, saints, religious holidays, jazz, drama, classical music, rock, pop, enchiladas, fast ducks and hot chiles.

Pilgrimages make sense for deeply spiritual occasions and reasons, like the annual Our Lady of Guadalupe Festival trek up Tortugas Mountain, for instance.

But I admit I’ve been amazed at the number of people who seem to communicate an almost religious fervor about finally making it to events like the Hatch Chile Festival. Red and green pilgrims have told me they’ve planned honeymoons and bucket list vacations around the annual pepper fiesta.

There are people who would genuinely rather be there for the running of the ducks in Deming, than, say, more famous events like the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain.

I know multi-generational families that plan their reunions around the Las Cruces International Mariachi Festival, the Whole Enchilada Festival or other favorite events.

In my Santa Fe days, I talked to collectors who had waited a lifetime to attend Indian Market, though those of us who lived there thought it was a madhouse to be avoided at all costs. We found it much more meaningful to visit Pueblos and studios and smaller events where we had a better chance to get to know artists and the art and culture that inspired them.

Whatever your preferences, it’s great to be in what might very well be the festival capital of the world during FTFS (Full-Tilt Fiesta Season).

It’s hard to imagine a bad fiesta in a place where the mood is mellow, fiesta prices are usually pretty reasonable and the weather is almost always good to great.

But if I had to name my favorite fiesta weekend (here, or anywhere else I can think of), it would probably be the first weekend in November. Most years, including this one, it’s the time for both the Doña Ana Arts Council Renaissance ArtsFaire in Young Park, and Día de los Muertos celebrations in Mesilla. Both festivals beautifully showcase the friendly blend of cultures and remarkable artistic talents of our citizens.

In prime time fiesta mode, we can transcend the barriers of time and space and realms of the dead and the living. And we can munch on sugar skulls and dragon toes while we celebrate lives well-lived and days very worth living and celebrating, here in the fiesta capital of the world.

¡Viva FTFS!

S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @DerricksonMoore on Twitter or call 575-541-5450.

Prime time in New Mexico

It’s the best time of the year — at least in New Mexico.
It’s the golden Goldilocks season: usually, not too cold, not too hot.
Just right.
If we’ve had a monsoon season, it’s likely to be over.
Most years, though, let’s not place any serious bets in the climate change era, the blustery, season-changing winds (we’ve named them the Doña Anas) won’t be along for awhile.
Hot-air balloonists rely on this ideal little perfect weather oasis in high desert country, which is why the Duke City hosts the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta, the world’s largest such festival, in mid-October.
Balloonists have told me about a New Mexico phenomenon called “the box,” pockets of perfection in which you can reasonably expect to launch and come down in predictable areas and conditions.
I think there’s a nice space for living now that’s like that, too.
Let’s add Mary Poppins to the Goldilocks equation. Around this time of year, life can be practically perfect in every way.
Especially in the Land of Enchantment.
By the time you read this, if all goes well, I’ll be finishing a getaway to some of my favorite spots at my favorite time of the year.
If I hit it just right, I’ll get to see the first golden waves of Aspens start their annual gentle but dramatic tsunami cascade over the Northern New Mexico landscape. If you’ve never experienced it, make your plans. I’m a veteran of some spectacular fall color shows in Michigan and New England, but this is my favorite stage for turning a new leaf.
There are vibrant hues and color combinations that seem other-worldly, or visible no place else on the planet. And they include ethereal shades of Aspen gold and warm adobe, against the fall and winter lapis blue skies of New Mexico.
If spring represents new life, autumn in New Mexico reminds us that there is something to be said for maturation, too. Growing old gracefully — and beautifully. Our state’s falls evoke the patina of fine art, the glory of vintage wines, the wisdom of experience and the lovely, life- and soul-affirming possibilities of inevitable change and transitions.
Even when I’m convinced that the best days of the City Different are in the past, this time of year, I’m drawn to my first homeland in New Mexico. I miss my amigos y amigas there and understand why they put up with the rest of the year to be able to enjoy leisurely fall strolls down Canyon Road, around the plaza, the winding little former burro trails, through the hills and mountains, up to the vistas of the ski basin and Museum Hill.
When I can’t make it up north to Santa Fe, the Pueblos and the canyons of Taos, I’m also happy to stick closer to home and walk the shores at Elephant Butte State Park, or explore the quirky corners of Truth or Consequences.
I never tire of my favorite hike around Mesilla Plaza, down the little side streets and farmland acequias. I like the fall gatherings there, too. Mesilla Jazz Happening, this year on Oct. 5 and 6, is an especially nice time to bring and lawn chair and spend as much time as you can, kicking back and enjoying mellow sounds.
And it’s fun to walk around the New Mexico State University campus, see what’s new, enjoy what’s old and appreciate the art and landscaping.
Pick your own favorites, and see if you can find time for a little trip. Or budget time for a walk with friends, kids, grandkids and/or the dog. Plan to do your workouts outside, if you’re overscheduled.
There’s a reason this is FTFS (Full-Tilt Fiesta Season). Enjoy the fiestas by all means, but along with the music, art and activities, reserve some time for human being as well as well as human doing. Stop and smell the green chiles. Have an al fresco picnic. Open a lawn chair or spread a blanket and lean back to savor the moment.
That old cliché — It doesn’t get any better than this — could have been coined for here and now.
This is the (prime) time and New Mexico is the place.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @Derrickson Moore on Twitter or call 575-541-5450.

Are you too old for Halloween?

 By S. Derrickson Moore
What are you going to be this year?
Like most Baby Boomers, I once thought that I’d heard that Halloween query for the last time sometime back in the Jurassic Age — or the 1960s, which is roughly the same time period to some of the whippersnappers whose conversations I caught while visiting local costume shops for today’s SunLife story.
“There are all these old people in here. Why are they doing anything with Halloween costumes?” muttered a shopper who appeared to be in her late teens.
Though I’m not of the fan of ageism that may have motivated her protests, my natural inclination is to agree with her.
In fact, back in the day, she and her companion would also have been considered way too old to get involved in Halloween activities.
Maybe we were in too much of a hurry to grow up, but we Protest Generation kids were ready, maybe even eager, to abandon all the Halloween accoutrements — costumes, parties and trick-or-treating — long before high school. In fact, if we hit the streets beyond grades 6 or 7, it was probably because our parents ordered us to babysit our younger siblings on their candy quests.
I can’t recall any major Halloween festivities in high school or college. And the few adult costume occasions my contemporaries got involved in had nothing to do with Halloween. I remember concocting outfits for spring croquet tournaments, Octoberfests, medieval feasts and summer Renaissance festivals. Every now and again, there would be some ambitious adults who would transform a front yard into a Halloween attraction and maybe dress up in matching costumes to delight trick-or-treating kids.
But when did the big kids and adults take over Halloween itself?
Tour any costume emporium and it will be pretty obvious that at least half, and sometimes a lot more, of the Halloween acreage is not devoted to kids’ attire.
Some of it is very adult — you’ll find everything you need for sexy, or even stripper-caliber, incarnations of school girls, policewomen, bombshell Wizard of Oz characters and more. What isn’t aimed at titillation often has scatological or double entendre appeal that even today’s savvy tots would not likely understand.
Then there’s the gore. In the olden days, a few decades ago, most of it would have been seen as too frightening for tots or grade-schoolers. After a generation or two of hard-core horror and video games, the fear factor seems to have evolved into something else.
Various gory special effects at a local store that delighted a little girl elicited jump-caliber shock for her mom, and me, as I passed by.
It’s probably too late to put the living dead and vampires back in their crypts. But I still have wistful moments when I wish crowds at my door on Oct. 31 would be composed of pretty little princesses, teensy superheroes and cuddly animal costumes.
There will still be some of those, I’d guess, but we’ll also be seeing a lot of teens and parents, all in costume.
Carolyn Dye, who owns La Vieja in Mesilla, which stocks Borderland and historic costumes, thinks the Halloween celebrants may be trending downward in age again. The economy and crackdowns on drunk driving, she opined, have curtailed some of the wilder adult Halloween celebrations.
Maybe so. I don’t want to discourage anyone from creative self-expression. And it may be healthy to live out some, if not all, of our fantasies and experiment with new personalities.
Still, it would be nice to let the kids have their day and be its focus.
And luckily, since we live in Las Cruces, there will be many other opportunities to dress up and celebrate cultures living and dead. Días de los Muertos and the Renaissance ArtsFaire are right around the corner, the first weekend in November.
Choose your outfits. And bring the kids for an encore.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at dmoore@lcsun-news.com, @DerricksonMoore on Twitter or 575-541-5450.

Everybody in the pool

LAS CRUCES >> Before the rains finally came this month, when the West was parched and many parts of the country were flooding, Edie had a great idea.
Instead of oil pipelines, we should be building transcontinental water pipelines, she suggested.
It struck me as a brilliant concept, with far more long-term benefits and fewer eco-disaster potentials than the oil pipelines, and a much better place to invest our billions. Yes, there will be challenges, but we'll be able to work them out.
And we can start the process at my favorite local think tank, the Las Cruces pool where I've been swimming laps for almost two decades.
Prophet-psychic-philosophers Tenny Hale and Edgar Cayce have noted that it's easier to find great truths and come up with profound ideas around bodies of water, and I thing they're right, whether the watery body is an ocean, a great lake, a mighty river, or even a modest little swimming pool in Las Cruces, N,M,
In recent decades, I've written several of my best columns while doing the crawl or backstroke, and gotten some of my best ideas for news stories and features from a serendipitous group of poolmates who have become my friends.
There's something about chilling out in the pool, or burning off some of our aches and pains in the nearby whirlpool, that encourages instant intimacy. There's a tendency to share life stories, secrets of the universe and solutions to the problems of the world with people whose last names you've never gotten around to learning.
That we know first names, in fact, is mostly due to Becky, our de facto pool social director and CEO. From the onset, she established a tradition that always reminds me of the friendly "NORM!" shout-outs in the "CHEERS" sitcom. When Becky is in the house - or the pool - no soul goes ungreeted or leaves without an enthusiastic good-bye.
Professionally, she's a long-time mental health guru who has counseled everyone from high school kids to adults in crisis. As a volunteer she founded a rape victim therapy group and numerous community service outreach programs. She's one of a couple of counselors and mental health practitioners who seem to often turn up in the deep end when I'm doing my post-swim cool-downs or stretches, and these compassionate and very smart people offer some amazing insights on the state of our health. They're more tuned in to societal trends than any online site I've been able to find.
With their guidance, the pool think tank amigos are often able to sense problems and make sense of daunting issues long before they make headlines. And when disasters hit - locally, nationally or globally - it seems one of us has been there first, and has some ideas about solutions and best ways to cope.
The think tank regulars are a motley group.
Leslie and Aurora. Delores and Mark... There are a few mom and daughter teams who come regularly, at least one dad and son and one mom and son show up several times a week to float, swim, or do a few stretches and water aerobics while we solve the problems of the world, share tips about the best doctors in town, lend an occasional book, discuss favorite TV shows, and even organize the occasional field trip to the finest regional green chile sources.
Some regulars are famous for their derring-do acts and aquatic achievements,There's Tsunami Rudy, the Butterfly champ of the pool, and Cannon Ball Ray (I knew him before our think tank days as a Sun-News pressman, now retired). Some connections are even more remarkable, even in New Mexico, land of synchronicity. I discovered that our think tank's other Mark, for instance, used to work at Continental Motors in Muskegon, Mich., around the time my dad was an aircraft engineer there. We haven't established that they ever met, but Mark mentioned a few names I recognized from dad's nightly post-work recap monologues.
I swam laps for years beside Stan before I learned about his occupation, the death of his wife after a long illness, and his happy remarriage.
But eventually, we all seem to manage to catch up on everybody's lives and share experiences and wisdom about our duties on the front lines of the caretaker generation. We keep up on the trials and triumphs of kids, grandkids, parents and one another. We miss members when, like Michael L,, they defect to other pools, or leave this earthly plane to float in the great hereafter.
In our little pool, opinions, hypotheses, questions and sometimes, amazingly creative answers and solutions float freely over the chorinated waters.
We may not always agree on everything or some days, anything, except, in recent years, that congress is dysfunctional. Maybe they should consult us, a diverse, compassionate, funny, multigenrational group with some original ideas. What's your problem? We just might have the answer.
Everybody in the pool.
S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450.


Derrickson Moore
Features Reporter
Las Cruces Sun-News
256 W Las Cruces Ave
Las Cruces, NM 88005

Phone: (575) 541-5450
Web: http://www.lcsun-news.com  


Are you ready for a road trip?

Road trip! Road trip! 

That was a rallying cry for adventure long before seductive advertising slogans like "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" permeated our culture. Many Baby Boomers will fondly remember "road trip" as the cue for one of the funniest episodes in the 1978 movie "Animal House," but those excursions, by any other name, were a crucial part of the formative years of just about anyone who was a small child in the 1950s or 1960s. 

Our dads were back from World War II or the Korean conflict. The nation agreed (unanimously, it seemed) to spend mega bucks creating an infrastructure of superhighways and cloverleaf interchanges. Detroit was turning out roomy station wagons (precursors of RVs and minivans, for you whippersnappers), luxury family sedans with lots of impressive, futuristic fins and chrome and sports cars so sexy that they are still hot and collectible more than half a century later. 

You could buy three gallons of gas for a buck. 

Dinah Shore sang to us every week, urging us to see the U.S.A. in our Chevrolets. 

What choice did we have? 

America was asking us to call. 

And come summertime (or spring break, or Thanksgiving, Christmas, the turning of autumn leaves or any other excuse we could conjure), we were ready to answer the call. 

Road trips are an American institution, from the first land bridge migrations to tribal hunting groups following the buffalo to westward wagon trains and the first transcontinental railroad excursions. I don't have the statistics, but I suspect contemporary Americans may travel more and greater distances for fun than residents of most civilizations. Road trips may not be specified in the U.S. Constitution, but many of us feel it is clearly implied, under life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. 

I've seen enough of the world and the nation to welcome the post-Oz period of my life. Dorothy was right. There's no place quite as comfy, friendly, interesting and convenient to me as my home querencia. 

And yet, breathes there a soul so dead that "road trip!" doesn't fire the imagination -- at least a little? 

I think not. 

Every year around this time, I feel an urge to visit souvenir shops and I start to get nostalgic for log cabins, canoes, rivers, lakes or any large bodies of water. It's hard-wired, primordial memory from Midwestern camping trips in my youth. 

I get on the freeway en route to local assignments and spot enticing signs: Albuquerque, Santa Fe, San Diego, San Antonio. Or even Alamogordo, Lordsburg, Silver City and Truth or Consequences. Deadlines are looming and I have miles of copy to write before I sleep. 

But for just one wistful summertime moment, I think, "Why not?" 

It's a good question. 

Why not put pedal to the metal, crank up your fave summertime tunes and hit the road, right now? Decide where to spend the night when you find an interesting side road to explore. Wait till you have a few hundred miles between you and home base and call in to take a personal day or two. 

Being old and responsible, I don't abscond without notice. But in recent years, I have talked my type A soulmate into fitting some unscheduled, impromptu adventures into our vacation each year. 

Sometimes, we've ended up missing stellar attractions because we didn't reserve in advance. 

But mostly, we've made some amazing discoveries. An island in the middle of a pond at a monastery retreat. Riverfront statues hidden among glowing aspen groves. Beautiful little mountain villages and farm stand picnics. 

Summer's not quite over. There's still time for an adventure of your own. 

Road trip! Road trip!S. Derrickson Moore may be reached at 575-541-5450.