A STRANGE PLACE

GREETINGS and salutations, race fans!

The week before last I was in Boston. But, once again, due to time constraints and some business out Sudbury way, I had no time to snap, crackle or pop any photos of consequence. (Albeit one that I sent to my good friend the Leap Star of the Green Monster from the freeway -"Go Sox," he says. "Go Seattle," I say.)

At any rate, I had the opportunity to travel to Albuquerque as a part of a larger contingency. Call it a "Traveling Road Show" Or TRSH or TRASH for short. We went, we saw, we power pointed, we went home. Getting to New Mexico was a study in the events beyond one's control. Getting home was an even stranger tale.

The first thing I noticed on the plane from Phoenix to Albuquerque (ABQ) was that there were outdated screens in front of my seat. These, I was told, were from an era that thought first class passengers would like to play Pong on their way to high powered businees meetings. (What the...) The screens were still intact, but the phones and the video games were gone. (A way too early version of Jet Blue.) My screen had this strange, almost druggie looking, hodge podge of strange swirls and, in the lower left corner, either a deadly fish from somewhere South of the border or, as I liked to think of it, the bastard love child of a hash smoking hippie and an out of this world alien that crashed in Roswell, New Mexico.

Shortly after flipping the whole UFO gig over in the melon, the pilot came on and said, "We are going to go to El Paso due to Microbursts happening at the Alburquerque airport. We will wait there until these storms pass and then return to Alburquerque." Microbursts, my lower extremities! These are part of the whole UFO coverup thing. Probably some gray or blue creature buzzing the tower and the gov boys were trying to squash the amount of eyewitnesses. To prove this to myself, I looked out the window and, sure enough, I saw ominous dark clouds on the horizon and then a zip of bright light. AH HA! You can call it lightening, but I know the truth.

At any rate, we finally made the Phoenix, El Paso, ABQ love circuit and arrived in ABQ three hours late. I was tired and frustrated and finally got my car and rolled into downtown ABQ. I stayed at a hotel, I can't tell you the name (HAMPTON INN MIDTOWN) and was not pleased to discover a wardrobe for the closet that must have been designed by the pygmies of central Africa. This thing couldn't even hold the ironing board in the fully locked and upright position. Wow! This is great for hanging up pants! (Picture above.)

The next morning I awoke to a much better mood and absolutely no illusions about UFOs or any of that nonsense. I went and did the gig with the others and then stayed around to talk to some architects. After that, I was told, it behooved me to check out a cool little zinc cone that is part of a project on the U of NM campus. I did. It was cool. I then rolled back towards Antoine Predock's studio. If the address I received was correct, then the photo of the white building with the black van is Predock's studio. No sign. Nothing. This seemed a little odd to me that the AIA GOLD winner would be so nondescript in his building. But then again, maybe not... (http://www.predock.com/) You absolutely must like a dude who likes Vincent Black Shadows. I am more of a British guy -though Antoine does have a Norton on his site. I prefer the late 60's and the early 70's. Anything BSA, Norton, Triumph. I also dig the old military bikes. Like the Dnepr (http://www.dneprworld.com/)... though I hear so-so things about the newer Dneprs with the retro look. But I digress.

After swinging by Antoine's place I took a side street (I think it was Carlisle or something like that) up to Bart Prince's original home and studio. On the way I watched a lady get arrested outside of a laundromat while stopped at a light. Then I rounded a couple of corners and... HOLY UFO! Just kidding. Bart's studio and neighboring cantilevered project are really cool. Bart is buddies with a guy I worked for briefly in Oregon. Bart now lives at the base of the Sandia mountains. The distant shot is as close as I could get to his new house. Think windy roads, watercolor skies, and pissed off locals. "Who the heck is that guy with the phone driving slowly back and forth from one cul-de-sac to the next, Marge?" Bart Prince is one of those architects a lot of people either hate or love. But love him or hate him, the guy knows how to build. (I think this is very cool... anyone can draw... can you build?) A very good friend of mine worships the ground Bart builds on. Now, to give you an idea of how cool Mr. Prince is... I asked my friend in Oregon if he thought that Bart would be open to a request for an autograph. My friend told me, "Yes." So I wrote Mr. Prince on behalf of my other friend in Minnesota and low and behold Mr. Prince emailed me back AND sent a nice package of material to my buddy in Minnesota. Compare this to some other famous architects and the difference is night and day, or sun and moon, or UFO and Microburst. (http://www.bartprince.com/) If you like Bart, check out Bob Oshatz at http://www.oshatz.com/.

The next morning, I pulled off of the freeway to get gas and drove by a graveyard in the shadow of the interstate. Freaky. I stopped and bought gas and watched some rough looking dudes sell a CD player replete with dangling wires to a girl in a low rider Honda. I left ABQ impressed by the beauty but uneasy about the strange things that seem to take place on the way there, while there and on the way back. I arrived in Phoenix just in time to see a cop on a bike in the airport take into custody a drunk at the Martini Bar. He left his bike and marched the guy down the hall. Photo above. I think, but can not prove, that the drunk was, perhaps, another life form.

Until next time, Mork and Mindy, have a great ride on the spaceship earth.

Disclaimer: Aliens are going to take over the world and turn us all into mindless robots. Aliens are going to take over the world and turn...