Friday, March 23, 2018

albuquerque was a turquey

When my 19 year old man/child was in 1st grade, he performed in a Thanksgiving pageant kind of thing, something about Squanto and fry bread, it was confusing. But the finale was a rousing rendition of a song about a turkey named Albuquerque who did not get eaten for Thanksgiving dinner. Naturally,  I heard that song in my head ad nauseum during all preparations to visit that fair city last week for a conference. 

Word hard, play hard!
I found Albuquerque to be a pretty city, but a bit odd. It might have been the area where we stayed, which was Old Town.


a bit odd
I'd been to Sante Fe before, I distinctly remember taking shelter in a campground bathroom with Ellie during a freezing winter storm in November of 1988. But Albuquerque, while endlessly fun to spell, had not been on our itinerary. Had it, Ellie? CRS

Pretty, yet odd. In this case the oddness was in the smell. We nicknamed these pretty things 'crotch trees'


 The city's most profitable claim to fame seems to be that it's where Breaking Bad was based


Pretty odd

It was St. Patrick's Day eve!
So, a bunch of random photos from a random city. I never really found the soul of the place. We didn't find great food, and everything closed at 10pm. Big fun was had, though, and you'll never hear me complain about a hotel room all to myself on the 11th floor. I rocked the stairs multiple times daily, and am still sore.

I'm glad that Albuquerque the Turkey survived his song, and that I now have newer associations to put with the city. I missed a chance to go to the aerial tramway, which looked spectacular, because I was 3 seconds late for the bus. They are a prompt people, those Albequirkies.

Next year it's back to Hilton Head :)

1 comment:

Me, You, or Ellie said...

What a quirky -- nay, an Albuquerquirky place. I remember that freezing night and that warm campground bathroom, too, although I don't remember Albuquerque much, either, even with my lotta-loops around this country of ours with the Schleckah. What I *do* know is that I do *not* know the Albuquerque Turquey song. But every time *I* hear the word Albuquerque -- which *is* endlessly fun to spell, as I am illustrating -- I hear . . .

Point me ... eee ... in the direction of Albuquerque ... eee ...eee ... I wanna go home-ome ... please help me get ho-ho-home.

Welcome home!!