Skip to main content

Lots of history to this old, battered, something of a village. Whiz Bang is a high desert mirage that blinked into the New Mexico Territories in 1815, when a rumor started that there were lots of rocks, sand and sticky-burr's awaiting exploitation, whiched caused people to wander in, get lost and forget to leave.

Marcus is the village barber. Handsome rugged and smells like lavender. Has two
independent thumbs on his right hand. Posey and him had a thing going for awhile, but not since Marcus accidently poked her in both eyes at the same time putting his arm around her. Posey looked like a raccoon for a couple of weeks.

Gladdy is the village wanderer. So busy getting nothing done and never getting to where she was going when starting out. Kinda like watching a bee buzzing around, oblivious to flowers. She wears a really frumpy straw hat and slobbers her Tic Tac's.

Village burro is named Duh. That burro is like some arcane prop in every scene of life. Walk out of the merchantile and Duh is meandering by. Digging post holes out on the mesa, there's Duh lopping around. Hang a new screen door, Duh is watching. Come out of the post office and Duh is sitting there. Burro is always around everyone at the same time. Really desert-creepy, if you know what I men.

Cooter is the village sot without a gutter. He wobbles all the time. Never seems to fall down. He doesn't have a neck. Head just sits flat on the shoulders and rolls around a bit.
Nobody that I can recall has ever seen him shrug.

Wynette owns the Root, Grub and Growl cafe. Three table establishment that serves vittles like, crushed saltine-breaded pork tenderloin fried in peanut oil, then smothered in catsup with two layers of dill slices on a leaf of lettuce and wrapped in a toasted bun. Fries so crisp they stand alone. Wynette ran with the carnival in her youth. It shows.

Now Bill is an affable fellow. He...odd, I don't know what he does. Known him thirty-five years...funny, don't remember him doing anything. He's just always been with us. Who is this guy? How obtuse. Who else do I know I don't?

Plato is the village Librarian. He knows his letters and how to count. Maybe not versed on the Dewey Decimal System, but he knows what's in every well balanced stack and he keeps it that way. Checks stuff out and puts it back in the correct stacks when returned. No way this village could operate without him.

Sniffy is our sanitation engineer. Drives the honey wagon. All you be needing to know about him. He's always around, even when he ain't, if you get the drift.

Tommy is the village animal control guru. He bathes Duh once a week and brushes him every morning. Leaves her carrots, turnips and two sugar cubes each evening. Only guy I've ever known who has roadrunners following him around keeping him company. Very gentle heart, that Tommy. Too gentle, I suspect.

Village saloon is owned and operated by Sally. Her great-great-great-great grand pappy built it out of rock. Walls are five feet thick with vigas twenty inches around. Probably be the last bar standing when all is said and done. She once knocked down a desperate man trying to rob the saloon. Knee-capped him with a blast from her coach gun, she did. Best place to be plunked down during the monsoon season. Sally has a 20 foot fireplace in her saloon with stone benches in front of it that keeps the tush warm as toast on Winter days.

Carlos is the village blacksmith. I swear, if the universe broke, Carlos would have it up and running lickity-split. He married Rosita, who makes really beautiful rugs on her loom. One time a richy-rich couple pulled into the village. Their Mercedes was a coughing and spitting awful. It needed a new thingamabob. Carlos told them he would have the part in a couple of weeks. Those folks being rich and all, got all steamed up and knotted. Finally, Carlos said, "I can fix it in a couple of days. It'll cost you, though, cause I have to machine the part from scratch." He did so and charged those pansy-assed snooties $200 just to teach them a lesson. Carlos is one great fixer upper, but ain't too smart in the taking rich folks for a ride, department.

Gaffney was born all crippled up. Never learned to walk. Makes his living crawling around gathering small rocks. Polishes them in a big drum thing he has and glues those rocks onto sheets of slate to make pictures of the desert. Tourists buy them at his selling stand. He once worked all summer, just on a lark, to lay a polished rock walk in front of the saloon. Sally kept him supplied with her special homemade brew while he was working. Beautiful spirit inside ol' Gaffney. He vibrates when he's had one snoot full too many.

Spook is the village dog. So dang old he only lets out a "hurrump" once in awhile. Scruffiest, scroungiest, laziest dog ever known in these parts. Dog literally wore a depression in the rock he sleeps on over the years. Spook caught a jackalope once, or so the rumor goes. Duh and him are the best of friends.

Many villagers actually live away from the village. Desert people are a breed forgotten in the hustle and bustle of America. But, they be salt of the earth. Never doubt that.

Your Email has been sent.
You must add at least one tag to this diary before publishing it.

Add keywords that describe this diary. Separate multiple keywords with commas.
Tagging tips - Search For Tags - Browse For Tags


More Tagging tips:

A tag is a way to search for this diary. If someone is searching for "Barack Obama," is this a diary they'd be trying to find?

Use a person's full name, without any title. Senator Obama may become President Obama, and Michelle Obama might run for office.

If your diary covers an election or elected official, use election tags, which are generally the state abbreviation followed by the office. CA-01 is the first district House seat. CA-Sen covers both senate races. NY-GOV covers the New York governor's race.

Tags do not compound: that is, "education reform" is a completely different tag from "education". A tag like "reform" alone is probably not meaningful.

Consider if one or more of these tags fits your diary: Civil Rights, Community, Congress, Culture, Economy, Education, Elections, Energy, Environment, Health Care, International, Labor, Law, Media, Meta, National Security, Science, Transportation, or White House. If your diary is specific to a state, consider adding the state (California, Texas, etc). Keep in mind, though, that there are many wonderful and important diaries that don't fit in any of these tags. Don't worry if yours doesn't.

You can add a private note to this diary when hotlisting it:
Are you sure you want to remove this diary from your hotlist?
Are you sure you want to remove your recommendation? You can only recommend a diary once, so you will not be able to re-recommend it afterwards.
Rescue this diary, and add a note:
Are you sure you want to remove this diary from Rescue?
Choose where to republish this diary. The diary will be added to the queue for that group. Publish it from the queue to make it appear.

You must be a member of a group to use this feature.

Add a quick update to your diary without changing the diary itself:
Are you sure you want to remove this diary?
(The diary will be removed from the site and returned to your drafts for further editing.)
(The diary will be removed.)
Are you sure you want to save these changes to the published diary?

Comment Preferences

  •  Tip Jar (12+ / 0-)

    Hope has a hole in it when Republicans come, bringing shackles and sorrow; branding their greed on the backs of the poor. - Wendy Connors

    by Wendys Wink on Sun Aug 14, 2011 at 04:10:38 AM PDT

  •  That was just great! (3+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:
    Wendys Wink, JaxDem, mama jo

    Looking back on my growing up years in my small town in western Nebraska, I am reminded of the 'characters' that inhabited my life.  Anything or anyone unusual stood out, because the community was mostly white bread and milk toast.  There were two Greek families in town, and one was met with tragedy.  I don't know what the man who we children called Digger O'Dell did, but he had an affair with the other Greek man's wife and Digger was eliminated by said wife's husband, which caused the family to leave town permanently.  Thus depriving my kindergarten class of one set of twin boys reducing the number of twins in my class to nine.  Everyone in my class looked alike save a few strays who didn't have a twin.

    Poing of clarification:  Digger O'Dell was a mortician in some cartoon, although I can't recall which one.

  •  Used to live around Mora. (3+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:
    Clem Yeobright, JaxDem, mama jo

    High country, true, but the people are just as interesting.

    There was 80 year-old  Manuel who made the mistake of hooking up with 20 year-old Nora who hauled him off to Raton one day to get married so she could get his land.  Trouble was, Manuel had already deeded it to his severinos, so Nora wanted a divorce.  She threatened to kill him if he didn't give her the 13-inch B&W TV they had.  Manuel ended up at my place for protection, and since he didn't bathe too frequently, I was in the Judge Tiny's office early Monday morning to get a TRO to get Nora out.

    Sadly, Nora ended up dead not long after.  She tried to ambush her real boyfriend from the attic of one of those adobes with a viga-and-roughcut ceiling.  She missed.  The boyfriend got his 30-30 and fired it into the ceiling until he got her.

    Then there was the cowboy who came by occasionally on his horse "Crowbar," thus named because that was what it took to get him to do anything.

    And I love the John Nichols books and Frank Waters People of the Valley.

    Really enjoyed your village's description.  Brought back some great memories.  Thanks.

Subscribe or Donate to support Daily Kos.

Click here for the mobile view of the site