Red Rocks and Rockets headline the drive today. Before hitting the road, we finished our walk through Albuquerque.
“So, Charly, do you have something in your wardrobe that’s kind of outer space looking?” I asked, not letting her know I had something up my sleeve.
“Yeah, I think so,” she said.
“Go change,” I said looking for a chance to make my break.
Earlier, when Charly was off doing something, I found this cool Rocketeer Suit. (Halloween is just around the corner.) I changed in to it and stood waiting for her return.
“WHAT THE… THE… HECK?” she was at a loss for words.
“Jenny, prepare yourself for a shock: I’m the Rocketeer,” I said quoting the movie.
“Why are you calling me Jenny?” she was perplexed.
“Haven’t you seen the movie?” I asked.
“What movie?” asking more confused.
“The Rocketeer,” I said sticking my chest out and pointing to the sky. “Come on. It came out in the early 1990s.”
“Oh, before my time,” she said.
” Oh, for crying out loud, haven’t you read the papers?” I quoted the next line.
After the Fun
We left Albuquerque and headed west on Route 66. Charly was driving while I navigated and looked for things to shoot.
Just outside Albuquerque are some old Native American Pueblos. It’s like a little ghost town. I had to tell her to pull over so I could get some pictures of this.
Westward and Onward Red Rocks and Rockets
There are some red rock formations in this part of New Mexico. These buttes conjure images of cowboys and Indians in my mind. Growing up near Fort Hall, Idaho, playing cowboys and Indians was the thing to do. Today’s kids have their video games, we had our cap guns or bows and arrows.
We stopped and Charly got out for a stretch.
“You look nice against this background. It goes with your hair,” I said to Charly.
“Thanks. I feel like dancing,” she replied.
“Hey, there’s no cars for as far as I can see. Go for it,” I responded.
“Put on some music!” she demanded.
Digging through my folder of CDs (yes, I brought CDs) I pulled out some Eagles. Popping the CD in it started off with Hotel California.
“That’s not dancing music,” Charly responded, “I want something… something graceful. This place reminds me of soaring eagles.”
“That’s why I put on the Eagles,” I said smugly.
“Huh?” was all she said.
“The Eagles. They were THE band back in the late 70s. That’s who’s playing.” I explained.
She rolled her eyes, only as Charly can do, and said, “No, something with a smooth, ballet like theme.”
I dug around and found some Bill Withers, and put on, “Ain’t no Sunshine When She’s Gone.”
It must have been okay, because as a result Charly started to dance. The rhythm of the music fit in with her moves and I sat back in the car and enjoyed watching the show.
It’s dinner time, and the big question, “Red or Green?”