I was gonna title this one, “Tommy Gets Lost in the Woods” because I am thinking about changing my name, moving in and sending for Trixie.

My hosts, the Woods (Irby, Laura, Baxter, Cayden and The Q) are way too warm, loving, supportive,inviting and naive. They can’t seem to tell when some freeloader is taking advantage of those positive qualities.

Laura has been my guide this week. She has taken me in and around Albuquerque  (and, for you Bugs Bunny fans, we made plenty of left turns while doing it).

Yesterday she took me north, up along Historic Route 66 to an empty stretch of road. Nice, right? I had no idea what was going on and didn’t even notice these signs (pics related)

…on the first pass. She swung around and we went at it again.

Rumble strips in the roadway along Historic Route 66 cause your car to belt out “America the Beautiful” when you drive at the correct speed. (I shit you not)

We continued north to the state capital, Santa Fe.

We went to the the famous staircase in Loretto Chapel (gallery related)

Word around the diocese was that, Loretto Chapel was run by a bunch of nuns, who, being sissy girls, couldn’t really use a ladder to get to the loft and do whatever is was that needed to be done on the upper level.

Installing a traditional staircase wouldn’t be a good solution because it would cost money and take up too much floor space. So, they thought about it. Nothing.

Finally, when common sense prevailed they took action in the only form that would make for a good story – they prayed.

Now they were getting somewhere. Legend has it (and, seriously, would a nun lie?) a mysterious stranger just showed up. A carpenter. You know, just like St Joseph and his boy were (hint hint).

He brought with him a hammer, a saw, a carpenters square (whatever that is) and wood.

He toiled for 6 months, remaining a mysterious stranger the whole time. He used water to shape the wood.

Then he left without presenting a bill for either labor or materials.

The stairs (pictured above in the gallery) were built without a central support. It is held in place by the precision of its craftmanship and is visited by architects and engineers alike from all over the world who come to stand at the base and scratch their heads in disbelief.

When sightseeing, it is kind of tough to top “staircase built by God himself” so we headed back to Albuquerque.

It wasn’t enough that I was being housed and fed and chauffeured around the southwest, there was still something missing – education.

I know nothing about wine. Irby, though he won’t say it, is an actual expert.  He does wine for a living. I would say what he does exactly, but over the years has spent time mastering each stage of the business and only then chose his specialy – sales.

I said I wanted to drink as much free wine as I could hold, under the pretext of learning about it.

After dinner he broke out wine, glasses…charts, diagrams and other assorted documents including a map of the world.

I love it when someone who is extremely passionate and knowledgeable about their field tries to explain the complexities to a complete noob. It’s funny!

He was slinging info to Patrick and Shelley (a cute couple/family/dear friends type thing who decided to attend the tasting) and me about the history, social importance and various properties of different wines.

He dispelled misconceptions, instructed how to belittle pretentious snobs and encouraged the enjoyment of the fermented fruit of the land – all while the underagers, animals and Laura had a jam session in the adjecent area. Everyone in the family has musical talent.

I was given morsels of different flavors of food (like dark chocolate and Fig Newtons, but not really Newtons, some vegan, wholegrain mutation of the actual junk food) and shown how different foods can alter the physical properties, and thus dining experience, of different wines. Irby showed us what to look for and, ultimately we learned that there is no wrong answer when it comes to wine. If a certain bouquet triggers memories associated with certain parts of your human experience then go with it. Enjoy what you like.

I asked questions and got immediate and easy to understand answers.  It was so cool! If I am traveling about looking for new experiences, I found one last night for sure.

When I couldn’t really drink any more wine, Irby took up his guitar, Laura her Ukulele and even I was handed a muffled (so as to not make too much of a racket) drum thing (pic related)

And we played and sang. This is what these people do instead of watching TV everynight. Kinda makes me feel sorry for them. You know, if I hadn’t had so much fun.

In Albuquerque,  even non-TV weirdos are not immune to the influence of the best show to ever air – Breaking Bad. I told Guide Laura I wanted to see some of the locations. Off we went.

She explained to me that the shows creator, Vince Gilligan, in a blatant act of un-Americanism, has allowed the enterprising folks of New Mexico, to use his intellectual property free of licencing royalties.  It is like everybody out here has lost their goddamn minds. They are all way to friendly. I don’t trust them. I decided to not make any sudden moves around Laura just in case.

We went to Walt’s house (pic)

Within 15 seconds another group of gawkers approached. I thought, “what are the odds of getting here at the same time on some random Thursday afternoon?”

Then 15 seconds later, another group (pic related)

A crowd was forming. We rambled on.

We saw Pinkman’s house (bitch!),  Crystal Palace, the Dog House, the Car Wash, DEA Headquarters (gallery)

…and Rebel Donuts. They weren’t in the show, but they sell blue crystal meth donuts. But, most of time it is just rock candy sprinkled on it. I can’t be sure because they were sold out and I had to settle for a couple of lousy “pancake & bacon” ones – an actual strip of crispy bacon on a maple donut – my GAWD! I will take these over a lousy staircase any day and just use a ladder. I would include a pic but my camera’s shutter speed was no match for how quickly I scarfed them down.

If I had known that this is how friends treat each other, I would have been nicer to most of you bastards over the years.

But, it is time to ramble on.