a Passion for August 10, 2012
10.08.2012
Fashion
Serving southern New Mexico . . . and the rest of the world!
photography by Helene Kobelnyk
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the song without the words, and never stops at all.� - Emily Dickenson 2
“Stupid Is As STUPID DOES” by Helene Kobelnyk
This expression always made me laugh. At first glance you might be tempted to think that it’s derogatory until you analyze it a little. On one of our trips to El Paso, we stopped to refuel at a gas station. In the next lane was a man who was getting ready to clean the windshield of his car. When he used the trigger of the spray bottle, instead of the windshield being the target, his face was. What amazed me was that he squirted himself in the face two more times before realizing he needed to turn the bottle around! He finished half of the windshield and walked around to the other side of the car to finish the other half. Apparently he had unintentionally turned the bottle back around because he squirted himself in the face AGAIN! After a little pause, a second squirt to the face, and finally, the hapless soul managed to turn the bottle around to the correct position so he could finish the cleaning job. We all make mistakes that we consider “stupid.” But an important part of learning is making mistakes. If you walk barefoot on hot pavement, your feet will get blistered. That’s a consequence of an action taken and hopefully it’s something you’ll remember before doing it again. If you choose to do it again, then expect the consequences. Where the real “stupidity” comes in is when folks don’t make the connection between the act and the consequence. As in: “I burned my feet on the pavement once. This time I’m suing the city because they let the pavement get so hot. After all, it’s my ‘right’ to walk barefoot wherever I want.” Stupidity has very little to do with how much education or formal training or innate brilliance we have. It has more to do with how well or how poorly we make the important connections between the act, the consequence and taking responsibility for both. Many of the problems in today’s society wouldn’t be problems if everybody would just look at the spray bottle after the first squirt to the face, analyze the connection between the nozzle and the trigger, and then simply turn it to the correct position.
Helene Kobelnyk
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table of contents Not To Be Missed AN INSPIRING VISTA . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 Exclamation Point! STUPID IS AS STUPID DOES . . . . . . . 3
Publisher Helene Kobelnyk
Feature RICK WOOD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
Editor Lucina Sarber
Cover Story A PASSION FOR FASHION . . . . . . . . . 10
Creative Director Greg Sarber
Georgene Inks ONE DEGREE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15
Photographer Helene Kobelnyk
Dennis Dunnum HOWDY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
Writers Connie Breding Peter Brickey Dennis Dunnum Georgene Inks Helene Kobelnyk Lucina Sarber Katherine Umberger
Katherine Umberger KAT ATTACK ADVICE COLUMN . . . . . 20 Pete’s Perspective EXPECTATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 Helene’s Scene GALLERY 408 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22 Helene’s Business Scene EXPERT IN MANSION (pt. 2) . . . . . . . 25 REQUEST FOR SUBMISSIONS: Please feel free to express yourself! Those interested in submitting articles, polemics, promotional materials, photography, artwork, etc. for publication in VIVAcini, submit to: Helene Kobelnyk at ohk@valornet.com Articles should be in the 500-600 word range and emailed as WordDoc attachments. Photos must be high resolution, 200-300 dpi and submitted as jpgs. VIVAcini is published each Friday so “get us your stuff” no later than the previous
Tuesday at 12 noon. WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF VIVAcini “where a sense of community takes flight, and knows no bounds!” All content, photographs and artwork are the intellectual property of the contributing author, photographer and/or artist and are protected under copyright law. Reprduction of any part of this e-zine without the express permission of the author, photographer and/or artist and publisher is expressly prohibited. All rights reserved.
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A PASSION FOR LIFE,
Rick Wood This One and the Next
Ruidoso businessman and author, Rick Wood, owner of Shrimpy’s Shrimp and Wing Shack in Midtown, has amassed a life’s experience we usually only read about— perhaps in a Hemingway biography. Just out of high school, this son of Colorado did avalanche patrol and jumped off cliffs, preferably 100 ft. high ones, while speed skiing. “It’s not that I had a death wish, it’s just that I constantly needed to be challenged.” Rick was once given a speeding ticket on a slope in Breckenridge for going 78 miles an hour, the ticket read “reckless skiing,” he laughs and calls it “Early American stupidity.” While still in his early 20s, Rick ran a lumber yard,
by Lucina Sarber
did security service, worked on heavy equipment in excavating (“I put in all the ski equipment at Copper Mountain in Breckenridge.”), then suddenly decided he wanted to move to Hawaii—where he proceeded to work as a dive guide. Unfortunately, he loved it enough that he did it for free. Before too long, Rick was penniless and returned to Colorado. Back home, Rick put himself through aircraft mechanics school and got a pilot’s license but ended up going to work at Western Horseman magazine, setting up their in-house graphic department—his dad, whom he adored (“we were inseparable, he was closer than a brother to me“), was president, so Rick had extra incentive to do a great job. But Rick’s destiny lay with Janice, his wife of 32 years, whom he met at a direct mail company in Denver—he was her boss. Their life together would see plenty of action and excitement, including raising two daughters while running “Outdoor Connections,” a travel agency in Colorado
Springs that specialized in high-end resorts. “We specialized in putting packages together for folks to include big game hunting and fishing at our resorts in Alaska, Canada, the Soviet Union, Costa Rica and Baja California. The great part was we usually had to travel to some of these resorts to see if they qualified to be part of the ‘Outdoor Connections’ family of resorts.” Rick’s constant need to be challenged led him and Janice to buy a 100 year-old brownstone in Cripple Creek, Colo. owned by famed astrologer, and author, Linda Goodman who according to the New York Times, “was credited with bringing astrology out of the occult section and onto the best-seller lists.” Three months after they bought the home, Linda died
from complications associated with diabetes. At closing, the realtor was forced to disclose that the home was “the most haunted one in Cripple Creek.” Rick laughs, “Heck, I got them to drop the price by $60,000—if I had known it was haunted, I would have paid full price!” He and Janice transformed the home into a bed and breakfast and called it “The Last Dollar Inn,” in homage to the town’s past as an old mining town—as well as being known for its casinos. For 13 years, Rick and Janice played host to people from Ireland, Australia, Great Britain and even Columbia, “Our regulars represented 70 percent of the countries around the world.” Given his boundless energy, (“That’s ‘cuz I never sleep”), it wasn’t too long before Rick was knee deep in
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A PASSION FOR LIFE,
Rick Wood This One and the Next
all aspects of life in Cripple Creek, from being on the city council to being fire and building commissioner to running an ad agency, a construction and remodeling company and doing work with the opera house AND the local community theater—from acting and directing to building sets. The one venture that completely captivated Rick, however, was his Ghost Tours enterprise. “For seven years, I did 3 tours a day—it consisted of cemetery re-enactments and dramatically presenting the history of local phenomenon. One year, Women’s Day magazine even voted us the ‘Number One Ghost Tour in the U.S.’” “One day as we’re about to set out on the tour, a man takes me aside and says, ‘Is this really worth $10—I mean, I’m from England and we have ghosts everywhere.’ I assured him that I would refund his money if he was not totally thrilled. When we returned, he walked up to me and without a word, slipped something in my hand with a big smile—it was a $100 bill—just another happy customer!” With his solid, “big-boned” physique, it is easy to see that Rick does not scare easily, neither does he need to fear much—but the truth is things have been going “bump in the night” around him since he was a child and this, along with memories that flash back, caused him to have to deal with anxiety attacks for years. “I remember playing on the floor as a five year-old with my friend and suddenly one of his toys, a tin locomotive on rubber wheels tears off across the floor and hits my foot—I picked it up and turned it over, and it was set to the ‘Off ’ button.” Unlike most of us, Rick’s also been around corpses, if not by his own choosing—“A high school buddy of mine’s father was an undertaker—one day I jumped in the vehicle thinking we’re just heading out for a good time and I notice something in the back seat and lift the sheet. It
by Lucina Sarber
was a corpse and to my shock and amazement, my friend calmly declares, ‘Oh, dad wanted us to drop it off ’—as if we were merely transporting a bag of potatoes” Another close encounter with a corpse came as a result of his training. “I was the only diver in the county and I got a call from the police that they’d found a person in the
water, don’t know if it was a suicide or murder, but I had to dive into Dillon Reservoir to retrieve it. Thank goodness, ‘rigor mortis’ had already set in and it was pretty easy for me to bring him up.” One night, Rick was driving alone on the highway between Frisco, Colo., and Breckenridge when, “Suddenly, something huge landed smack dab in the middle of the highway—trying to avoid it, I swerved my car out of the way and crashed it.” Like most Americans who don’t want to be labeled “wackos,” he refuses to speculate as to whether it was a UFO. Experiences such as these plus seeing ghostly lights and orbs (that appear on photographs) inspired Rick to “put it on paper.” And so was born his first novel, “Life Before, After and Again,” which was published in February of 2011, by Publish America. Here is an excerpt: “Robert never had a chance to meet Jonathan but he soon finds out that their paths crossed each other several times in very unusual ways. As Robert searches for answers to his anxiety attacks, and strange memory flashes, he finds far more than he could have ever expected . . .he knew it was time to find out what was causing the attacks and what the memories meant . . . Robert discovered many things in his research and he learned answers to questions people have asked for centuries. Now Robert must decide what to do with the information . . . and if the world was ready to learn what he had learned.” Rick and Janice arrived in Ruidoso in 2005, after Rick began having trouble with the altitude in Colorado. They opened their restaurant in late 2007 and it is here, inspired by Janice, that his writing took off. “Janice will say something to me that suddenly triggers ideas for a book and then I proceed to write it at Shrimpy’s between customers.” She remains a huge skeptic, but Rick laughs: “Guests at the B & B were always sharing their ghostly encounters with us—among their stories were those involving cats—we didn’t allow pets there, so they were seeing something. “One day, Janice is going up and down the halls and opening doors as if chasing something. When I asked
what was going on, she replied, ‘there’s a cat in here.’ ‘Course we never found it!” Rick’s book “Deep Creek Canyon,” will be released this fall and it promises to be as riveting as his first. “It’s about a guy who hikes the mountain trials around Breckenridge and wants to start mapping the trails in the woods but he starts getting the feeling that he’s being watched and followed.” This time around Tate Publishing, the third largest in the U.S. is bringing out Rick’s book and spending thousands to promote it, including television commercials. Rick was thrilled when he received their letter, “we accept only 3% of submissions and are very interested in publishing your book.” Predictably, he is into the fourth chapter of his next one titled, “Keys.” And so, all that remains is a whole series of books from Rick Wood. Rest assured that given this phenom’s prodigious output in LIFE, many more will follow. Guess he was a literary agent in his last life—because he has accomplished all this without one.
Shrimpy’s • 2501 Sudderth • Ruidoso, N.M. 575-257-8881
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High Fashion Hits the Road
When the Addy.Co Tour (as in “couture”), Airstream travel trailer pulls up to a home or place of business, it’s a welcome and uplifting sight for women who love exclusive fashion. Meghan Kinser and Frankie Leigh Reynolds, the chic and stylish owners of this travelling boutique, have put the joy of shopping for high fashion back into the hectic lives of women by bringing the store to them. In a world and time of impersonality, Addy Co.Tour is the epitome of personalized service. Catering to fashion-conscious women of all ages and sizes, Meghan and Frankie hand pick each product line when they travel to fashion markets in Dallas and quickly reorder items at their customer’s request. “We don’t sell anything we wouldn’t wear ourselves, and you won’t find any of our inventory in local stores, whatever town we’re in.” The high quality and reasonable prices are immediately evident as the customer steps into the colorful, pink with leopard print trim interior outfitted with a dressing room and mirrors. With their exquisite taste in and passion for fashion, both ladies gently coach and guide their customers in selecting styles that will flatter and accentuate their individual personality and lifestyle. For these two charmers, it’s not just about making a good sale—it’s also about making friends and providing a service to women who want to look and feel beautiful. These travelling proprietors’ enthusiasm and joy in what they do is nothing less than infectious. What life circumstances brought them together in what can only be described as “a match made in heaven?” Meghan and Frankie met in the fashion department at Target more than two years ago
by Helene Kobelnyk
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High Fashion Hits the Road
and instantly recognized each other as “soul sisters.” Both have similar tastes in fashion, life philosophies, and each has a daughter named Addison (Addisyn). “This is so much more than just coincidence. We really believe we were meant to do this,” explains Frankie. Their daughters were the inspiration for the name “Addy”, while the “Co.Tour” is a play on the word, “couture” (French for fashion design), as well as the obvious, “company tour.” Their idea for this road show was literally born on a sofa when the two were relaxing and thinking about future plans for themselves and for their daughters. Although each has a “real job” during the week, they thought it
by Helene Kobelnyk
might be fun to put their love of fashion into a weekend sideline that could become a source of income for the girls’ college fund. Meghan is part of a cattle ranching family in Capitan, and Frankie works in medical billing for a Ruidoso home health care service. After seeing a cupcake vendor who had converted an Airstream travel trailer into a kitchen, they thought why not convert one into a travelling boutique. Within a matter of weeks, they found an old Airstream and with the help of their husbands who re-welded the entire frame and installed shelving, launched their business and hit the road. “We really surprised ourselves. It’s been a whirlwind of a success,”
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High Fashion Hits the Road
admit Meghan and Frankie. “Because we’ve been so successful, it’s really become a full-time job instead of only on weekends.” For shoppers’ convenience, they set up their boutique at various events, and accept bookings for home and business parties, at which the hostess receives a percentage of sales as a credit toward items offered by Addy Co.Tour . Always mindful of the fact that they are mothers and wives first, they acknowledge that the flexibility of choosing when and where to travel is one of the more appealing aspects of their business. Meghan and Frankie’s Addy Co.Tour is a perfect example of how dreams can still come true in this
by Helene Kobelnyk
country despite the snivelings of economic pessimists— they are a vibrant example that hard work along with a smart business sense really do “pay off.” It just takes a little bit of imagination to jumpstart a vision, something Meghan and Frankie have plenty of! To book Addy Co.Tour for your next party or event, contact Meghan Kinser or Frankie Leigh Reynolds at boutique@addycotour.com or visit their website www.addycotour.com. They also advertise their products on their facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/AddyCo.Tour — a quick message will reserve the product of your choice. Addy Co. Tour (a travelling boutique) Frankie Leigh Reynolds and Meghan Kinser, owners boutique@addycotour.com www.addycotour.com
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One Degree
by Georgene Inks
O
ur stay in paradise, Blanquilla,Venezuela was mostly spent on our 36 ft. sailboat in the middle of a carved out cove, held in place for a while by four lines, watching eight foot high waves crash onto the shore of rocky cliffs less than 50 yards away. Two lines kept our boat, Morning Star, from turning sideways into the waves and two kept our bow held into them and anchored—but the surf finally had its way and at the peak of Hurricane Emily’s tidal surge, our bow anchor line broke. When that happened, we were kept from the threatening rocks by only one line, anchored around one rock, and put out at the last minute by three men; my husband, Lieutenant Javier Bajetti Gomez of the Blanquilla Coast Guard and their operations manager, Gill. The lieutenant and Gill, whom we had met the previous day, asked if we would like their help in getting ready for the approaching tropical storm. We had said yes and now here they were, just like they said they’d be, wisely deciding where and how the lines would be placed to secure us. These men seemed like angels to me. They showed us exactly where to locate Morning Star in the anchorage and secured three lines, two off the side and one anchor off the bow. The second anchor line would be very important and my husband was concerned about exactly where it would be located. That line was insurance. The lieutenant, snorkeling around found just the right spot and signaled to my husband and Gill to drop the second anchor where he was. They dropped it off the dinghy and then dove in after it. There it lay underwater directly behind one boulder and in the middle of two others. A chain secured the
plow anchor—placed around the boulder that the anchor faced—it was also placed around the boulder again and then backed through the anchor in the opposite direction of the first loop. Gill later explained that this boat and life-saving maneuver is what fisherman do every time—a fisherman’s secret probably as ancient as sailing. As it turned out, we were only this one line away from total disaster, one that could have dashed our sweet home to bits. Without being anchored, she would have been carried to shore by the crushing surf and thrown against the craggy cliff rocks, while we watched! And we would certainly have watched because we would have had to do the unthinkable—abandon ship by diving off to one side and swimming with the waves, hoping body surfing would be recalled like riding a bike. From that storm ridden beach, we would have seen the Morning Glory get torn and lashed to bits. You see we had finally arrived on that deserted island “paradise,” Blanquilla! Doyle and Fisher’s “Cruising Guide to Venezuela and Bonaire” was correct—Playa Yaque boasts only two palm trees resembling two lovers standing close to one another — this, indeed, was the deserted and romantic beach we’d dreamt of! We hadn’t expected to run into hurricane weather. One does not stay (even in paradise!) when one of those things is swirling about—one goes to where it is safe. Like our boating friends, who, though several days behind us, kindly offered to drop off fuel in spite of the impending storm.
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One Degree
When we told them the coast guard was taking care of us, they sped on past Blanquilla as fast as they could to Puerto La Cruz, before what was going to happen, inevitably did. Yet for all of us scattered throughout Venezuela’s offshore islands, there was still hope because Emily appeared to be heading north. So, we remained in Blanquilla—the only boat stranded there. We had lost all our fuel and lost our genoa en route from St. Croix in one of those engine/sailing ordeals everyone dreads—which happened, of course, far out in the middle of the ocean, where the water is very deep. This ordeal at sea from St. Croix took up all of our time, closed the good weather window we’d had and demanded the tireless, victorious efforts of my husband who can fix and deal with anything. As long as the boat floated we were fine. We knew there was a powerful, counter clockwise “system” just over there and we hoped it would stay “over there” until we could find a safe place and some fuel. Finally, we made it to Blanquilla, put down anchor and I roundly thanked my husband and Our Mother of Perpetual Help for getting us there safely! Sleep. Oh yes, it was good. Sleep was like water in the desert. So refreshing and so needed. The next day we awoke refreshed and after a morning stroll on a beach we had all to ourselves, we heard the sound of motors. The coast guard approached. They met us on the beach, a whole boatload of nice fellows who offered to take us by dinghy back to our boat. We declined and said “Meet us there, we’ll swim.” Little did we know that this first offer of theirs was a minor prelude of things to come. Once on board, we were inspected for life jackets, fire extinguishers, passports, documentation, communications equipment, first aid supplies, and
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by Georgene Inks
asked did we realize how close tropical storm Emily was? Yes, we said as we related the lost fuel and torn sail story to the elegant and kind lieutenant, who spoke English with measured thoughtfulness and clarity. “We will help you with fuel” he said, “and show you our base and different places to put your boat.” He also told us we needed to wait out the storm, whatever category it might become, there in Blanquillia because our engine was not to be trusted and we were down to only one sail. And finally, would we mind taking aboard “12 infant sea turtles in a bin just for a little while to keep them safe?” Their coast guard boat, he explained, would have to go very slow, so as not to slosh the turtles too much and there was still plenty to be done before the storm hit. It would take too much time to get us squared away going at a turtle’s pace—pun intended. Would I mind if the turtles stayed in our cockpit for a little while? Would I mind! In the U.S. I’d never qualify to be a turtle monitor yet I would be allowed to supervise and teach hundreds of human children! So no, I didn’t mind if their 12 little treasures rested in a bin in our cockpit—I happily volunteered to be the turtle babysitter. Instantly, beautiful baby black leatherbacks were swimming beneath my feet in their bin in the cockpit. I couldn’t believe it. Here in the middle of a boundless ocean, stranded on an island no one ever heard of, and rescued by a genteel leader, whose chivalry and that of his men harkened back to King Arthur’s court—all while babysitting some tiny endangered beings. Was I dreaming? (to be continued next week. . .) Writer, global nomad, educator and bon vivant, Georgene Inks is Theatre Instructor for grades 6-12 at the Ruidoso Municipal School District. She and her students created The Red Feather Theatre Company and produce its shows.
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Howdy.
by Dennis Dunnam
OK,
I’m sitting here wondering how to introduce myself. I have to do this, you know. I can’t simply hold forth in the public arena without some bona fides being shared. I’m really nobody special except to my friends and family, but I’m pretty unique in that I’ve had a lot of really interesting adventures and experiences in my life that few people have had. I’m 68, have two sons, who, along with their wives, love me a lot, five grandchildren who love me even more, a great life partner and I live in the mountains above White Oaks—oh, and my ex-wife still likes me too!
Some of the experiences I draw from:
I taught elementary school for 13 years (nine of those in a school I began and administered in Cerrillos/Madrid back in my hippie days—I gifted it to the community and it thrived for another 23 years. I lived in a dome I built south of Santa Fe, for 14 years with no water, phone or electricity, raising my boys, teaching at my school and learning coping skills I never thought I’d need—the part about no services, wasn’t by intent as in “living off the grid”—but life sometimes sends you interesting stuff to deal with. I also performed with a melodrama troupe for fun. In 1984, back at the beginning of “The Epidemic,” I helped start two AIDS organizations—back then we’d get a client and, on average, had about six months more or less to get them hooked into whatever services they needed and then helped them prepare to die. I stopped counting
when I got to 300. Those years taught me a lot about life and death. I used to be pretty shy but suddenly this job thrust me onto the public stage—I was on television, radio and newspapers an inordinate amount of time trying to convince folks they didn’t have to fear our clients but they’d better get smart about AIDS. I spent a lot of time bumping heads with governors, legislators, hospital CEO’s and other muckety-mucks who were clueless. Those agencies are still around and I’m on the board of “Alianza,” the regional one for southern New Mexico, based in Roswell. I also ran a medical clinic for the homeless in Albuquerque for four years. That was the job with the steepest learning curve and probably the most “fun” in a weird sort of way. Many years earlier, I’d lived in my car (a 1964 Volvo B-18) for six months while trying to make my fortune on the shrimp boats in Oregon. Here again, that didn’t turn out quite the way I’d expected but I learned a lot about camping out. That’s not EVEN REMOTELY to suggest that my experience bore much similarity to the harrowing plight of the homeless! I loved most of our patients (AND staff ), a fascinating lot for their intensity, problem-solving (sometimes problem-creating tendencies), and tenacity. Of course, there were also a lot of really tragic folks as well. Most of my jobs, especially these last two (11 year’s worth of my life), taught me a lot about unconditional love and how easy and accessible it can be if you allow it. After dropping out of chemotherapy a month early (I would rather have died than continue!) I jumped on my motorcycle (Yamaha Maxim, 700cc – RED!) on January 1, 1995 and rode 25,000 miles in a year and 11 days around the entire coast of the United States and up into Canada. THAT turned out MUCH better than I had any reason
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Howdy.
by Dennis Dunnam
to expect! It was probably the healthiest thing I’ve ever done for myself. (Fortunately, as it turned out, I didn’t need that last month of chemo). I learned even more about camping out and being alone and had plenty of time to THINK about mortality (my own and everybody else’s), the meaning of life, the universe—“the all that is all.” It was also a lesson in how, one-on-one, people in this country are very generous, kind and accepting. It appears everything changes once they gang up and label themselves: whether they call themselves Bloods, or Crips, Democrats, Catholics or Republicans that’s when things get nutty. Once I returned home from my wanderings, I realized I would never, ever, want to have a ‘real’ job again—so I started doing “artsy construction,” taking dilapidated homes and transforming them into special places. In 1997, on a dare, I got into a sort of beauty contest (with some talent involved, thank you very much!) and, at age 54, with my kids and their girlfriends in the audience—won the “Mr. New Mexico Leather” title; and came in a respectable sixth in the International event—and me being so shy and retiring! I moved to Carrizozo in 1999 and, outside of three guys named Bill, nobody knew who I was so I introduced myself as a writer and an artist—then I set out to become those things. I believe it was W.H. Auden who said, “If you want to BE somebody, just start acting like that person.” And it’s actually worked that way all through my life. I even acted like a politician and got elected to the Town Council. By now it’s probably obvious, I’m an “adrenalin junkie” in just about everything, including my work. I like starting organizations or getting them through huge growth
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spurts—once they settle down and are coasting nicely, I get bored and so I can either shake things up (cause trouble) or go do something else. I usually choose the second option. I also don’t put up a lot of walls, or defenses—what you see is what you get. I don’t have the long or short term memories to be a successful liar so I’m basically honest— and I won’t tell you how bad your haircut is unless I really know you well. Obviously, I love travelling but I never really had a lot of money so I’ve hitch-hiked and bused through most of Mexico and wandered across India, Thailand, Cambodia, Greece, most Canadian provinces and I have only Alaska to go before I can say I’ve covered every state in the U.S. I don’t know if any of this life experience qualifies me for anything beyond “interesting” but I hope you enjoy my commentaries from the edges of the American Experience in the latter half of the 20th and first part of the 21st centuries. I realize it is a privilege to be offered this opportunity and I promise I will serve up worthwhile reads for you. White Oaks resident Dennis Dunnum is a former restaurateur, teacher, builder, model, Carrizozo town councilman, and advocate for the homeless and those sufferingfrom AIDS. Look for his upcoming columns on life matters in “From the Edges with Love.”
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KAT ATTACK Dear Kat,
I am sad. My friends keep saying that I am a liar and they have been avoiding me. They tell me that they know I’ve lied to them. I don’t know what to do. I care about my friends and want to hang out with them and I don’t want to hurt them. They are right, I have lied to them but I don’t know how to confess this without losing all my friends. Please help. My dear “Liar.” This is definitely a hard situation to find yourself in. The best thing that you can do is be honest with your friends. It sounds like your friends already know that you were dishonest with them and want to hear the truth from you. I hear people say that it is easier to tell the truth all the time, but that is boloney. Telling the truth, in fact, can be very hard especially if you know that something you’ve done will upset or hurt someone you care about. The problem is that lying, for whatever reason, ultimately puts you into a situation like this. When we are dishonest other people know. It doesn’t matter how well thought out the lie is people will know that you have not been honest. When this happens you have not only lied but you have violated their trust in you. Dealing with a lie is far more complicated and hurtful then having to face the consequences of your initial action because now you have taken an already bad situation and added to it. Knowing how difficult this can be I am going to give
by Katherine Umberger
you a few pointers. When you talk to your friends, validate their concerns, let them know that you understand why they are upset with you and admit that you were dishonest with them. Explain what happened and let them know that you are sorry for not being honest in the first place. Be prepared with suggestions on how you intend to make it right. For example, if you lied about breaking your friend’s necklace you could offer to help fix it or replace it for them. Most importantly don’t say anything that you don’t mean. Don’t promise never to lie again if you know this is hard for you. If you know that when you are faced with a situation you will more than likely be dishonest then be upfront with your friends about it. Thank them for giving you the opportunity to be honest and let them know that you will need their help with this in the future. Your friends will be upset with you so be prepared to hear what they have to say. You will have to work on re-gaining their trust. The good news is that once you’ve cleared the air with your friends that heavy weight on your shoulders will be lifted and you will feel better. Just know that no, it’s not easy to be honest. Sometimes it’s hard to make the right decisions and that doesn’t make you a bad person—hopefully, it makes you want to be a better person. Capitan resident Katherine Umberger, is a dedicated mother of two, writer, artist and world traveler. Follow Katherine on VIVAcini in her upcoming “Kat Attacks” advice column. Email her at katattack_vivacinni@yahoo.com to get or give advice.
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Pete’s Perspective - Expectations
K
icking along in my own happy-go-lucky way got me to thinking about “Expectations.” I am willing to bet that everyone understands on a visceral level, that our expectations do not necessarily reflect reality. In fact, it RARELY works out that way. To illustrate that point, I’ll tell you a little story. Way back in the day when I was a lot younger, I actually had friends! Yeah, I know. Hard to believe, but true. One of my very best friends was a married guy named Dave that I hung with because we had a lot of the same interests. He was a long-haul driver and on occasion he would be away from home for a week at a time. During these times, I would look in on his pregnant wife and make sure everything was all right in her world. As her pregnancy advanced, she took on a rotundity that was biblical in proportion. I mean if she were to be a biblical Sarah, this child was going to be Goliath! Anyway, as is usually the case when Murphy is running things, Dave had a load to deliver to a warehouse in Los Angeles and I was tasked with keeping an eye on his bulging bride! I swear—Dave was barely out of the driveway, when I was informed in no uncertain terms that it was time to go to the hospital. Just as a side note, isn’t it amazing that no matter how prepared you are for an anticipated emergency, when said emergency happens EVERYTHING falls apart! Anyway, we make it to the hospital emergency room with no major complications. A nurse plops Dave’s wife into a wheelchair and whisks her off down a hallway. Another nurse asks if I want to watch the delivery. I don’t care how good a friend someone is, there are
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some things that ain’t none of your business. I told her real quick that I would just stay in the waiting room, thank you very much! Then I get handed about a thousand pages of papers to fill out and get signed and stuff like that. Somehow, between the chaos of getting her down that hallway and me having to fill out all those papers, the impression was out there that I was Dave. I tried a couple of times to correct the record, but some people know what they know and there is no changing their minds. This is their “EXPECTATIONS” part. So after a couple of hours, I get informed that I am the father of a beautiful baby girl—I swear to God—Dave’s wife could have birthed a Buick! That ‘lil baby was a heifer! And even though Webster’s has clearly defined the word “beautiful” it still seems that no one really knows what it means. But THAT’S for another story. I will admit that Dave’s wife did have a look about her that would melt your heart and holding that baby was pretty cool. I told her that I would be back in the morning to look after her and would be at their house waiting on Dave’s call. He called ‘long about eight p.m. and was pretty happy with the news. In all the excitement, I missed letting him know that everyone thought I was him. I didn’t think there was any problem. That part was my “EXPECTATIONS”. You have to remember that all this occurred BEFORE e-mail or cell phones. In fact, most of us didn’t even have computers! But the medical care was as predictable as all get out. After the birth of the baby, if you didn’t have complications, you could go home once “women’s stuff ” was done to you. I am not going into any detail here because after all, this is a respectable magazine. If you do know what I’m talking about, then I don’t need to tell you—if you don’t know— you don’t need ME to be the one to inform you. So I get back to the hospital, check in on my “missus”
and get told to report to the administrator’s office. Since I am not one that likes to be told what to do, this put me in a less than wonderful mood right off. But I go in and this guy tells me to have a seat. Impeccable pinstripe three-piece suit, not a wrinkle anywhere—this guy is a doctor that apparently wasn’t very good at it, otherwise he’d be doctoring instead of talking to me. You know the kind, all attitude and him “knowing” that he’s just so much better than you! He starts off with a lecture about me being responsible for my wife and child—then veers into a lecture about how it is not the hospital’s responsibility to pay my medical bills. By now, I am getting very insulted, and not hiding it well. I am ready to give him a piece of my mind when he spreads the icing on the cake—unless I pay the bill in full, he cannot release my wife to go home. I sat there for about 10 seconds, then got up and walked to the door. I looked at him and said, “Fine. Keep her.” And I walked out the door. I’m halfway down the hall before I hear him calling out what he thought was my name. “Where are you going?” he demanded. I stopped, looked back at him and said, “I’m going home. You already told me your terms. I don’t have the money to pay that bill in full, so you get to keep her. When you get
tired of feeding her and the young’un, give me a call. We’ll see what we can work out.” With that, I merrily proceeded down the hall—and boy, I do wish I had a picture of the look on that doctor’s face. It was halfway between amazement and horror. All of a sudden, his “attitude” disappeared. He was no longer so high and mighty. It seemed that his expectations met reality and they were not in the least alike. In the end, we worked out a deal where Dave would pay the bill in small monthly installments. I took her and the young’un home later that same day and Dave got back from Los Angeles that weekend, so everything worked out for the best.
The moral to this story is…
When things don’t seem to be going your way, re-examine your expectations and see how well they match up to reality. I’m willing to bet that if you lower the expectations down to reality’s level, you’ll be a lot happier. Y’all have a good day now. Pete is a photographer, artist and writer with a unique perspective on all life matters. He and his wife reside in North Carolina, and Pete prides himself on being a true “Son of the South.” He welcomes feedback on his column and can be contacted at pete@vivacini.com
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Gallery 408 – A Whirlwind of Textures and Styles by Helene Kobelnyk
“I hung my head out the window while Warren was driving and stared at the incredible starry sky. It was so vast and there were so many stars. Beautifully breathtaking! That’s when I knew we had found what we were looking for.” --Joan Malkerson
It was a long way from Minnesota for Warren and Joan Malkerson, owners of Gallery 408 on Twelfth Street in Carrizozo. After spending a lifetime working in corporations in the east and midwest, Warren retired and asked his wife, “Where do you want to go?” With maps and magazines scattered on the kitchen table, each made a list of desirable characteristics and arrived at the following: lots of warmth, sunshine, no pollution, no people pollution, and wide vistas. Because Joan had grown up in Colorado, she felt at home in the high desert, mountains and forests of the west, so New Mexico seemed a logical candidate. Smitten by the mountains and blue skies of Ruidoso, they moved to the Angus area 16 years ago—and over the years travelled back and forth to Minnesota where their children and grandchildren reside. “With my business skills and Joan’s love of and talent in art, we make a perfect managerial team and an art gallery seemed to be something we could do together to nurture her passion for art.” In 2004, attracted to the quaint charm and relaxed ambience of Carrizozo, they bought the old two-story adobe building that now houses their gallery. Warren and Joan say, “New Mexico is a place where you can reinvent yourself.” And they describe the community of Carrizozo as open and welcoming, “Even though we never ran a gallery before, people around here gladly came and helped us.” They acknowledge that it has been a joy to bring some of the old buildings on Twelfth Street
back to life—one of their dreams is to help Carrizozo establish itself as a destination for art and antiquities lovers. “Hopefully we can encourage people to discover the beauty of this small town. It’s such a wonderful change of pace.” Gallery 408 is as non-pretentious, and gracious as Warren and Joan. From striking abstract oils and stunning sculptures and pottery to whimsical and ecological wares from the depths of Africa, visitors are sure to find something to suit their taste. Rather than remodeling the building which was once home to the Lane sisters of Carrizozo and later became a candle shop, Warren and Joan retained the coziness and nostalgia of the small rooms, antique staircase, aged wooden doors and windows, and worn ceilings. Products in their gift shop come from a fair trade company, “Global Mammas,” and the Malkersons have made it a win-win situation. Many of the cloth products are handmade by artists in Ghana, Africa—and include computer covers, phone cases, wallets, and aprons. Most of the money goes back to the villages to support education and medicine. For Gallery 408, it’s an opportunity to offer affordable and quality products for visitors looking for an inexpensive or other-than-original art piece. According to the Malkersons, “We try to have art lovers encounter art here and make it available and affordable for everyone.” A significant feature of the gallery is the assortment of uniquely decorated life-size cast aluminum burros t hat rapidly became ambassadors, for not only the town of Carrizozo, but the entire Southwest.
Referred to as the “painted burros of Southern New Mexico,” they began as a fundraising project—artists were invited to paint and decorate one, then name it and create a story. The burros were then auctioned off at an event called the “Burro Serenade.” Proceeds from past auctions have gone to support local animal shelters and rescues. The gallery is a mixture of consistency and ebb and flow of new work, and has become an invaluable community presence and resource for schools and educational programs. The Malkersons are deeply involved in community projects such as decorating local park benches and providing after-school programs for children. Joan, whose artistic energy meanders through every niche of the gallery, graduated from the Maine College of Fine Art with a cum laude degree in painting. She refers to contemporary art as her true love in the art world but also specializes in clay masks and pottery. Because some of Joan’s work is also on display in Minnesota and family is located there, the Malkersons spend part of their summers there. The Malkersons welcome all to Gallery 408, whether artists looking for a place to show their work, or travelers, looking for a unique piece of New Mexico. “I connect to the world a little better when I connect to art,” says Joan, “and I hope that travelers who find their way to our little corner here are pleasantly surprised when they walk into our gallery.” Gallery 408 is located on Twelfth Street in Carrizozo, New Mexico, and is open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Fridays, Saturdays and Mondays, and from 12 p.m. to 5 p.m. on Sundays.
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Helene’ s Scene -“The Big Three” ( Part 2 of “The Expert in My Mansion”)
by Helene Kobelnyk
For business owners trying to establish a presence on social media networks. Learn to leverage them to your advantage. If you missed Part 1, it’s in Vivacini August 3, 2012. The largest social networks right now are Facebook, Twitter and Google+. This doesn’t mean that they’re the only ones. New ones are on the horizon every day. But Facebook has been around since 2002 and has changed the internet, marketing and communication in profound ways—with a user base of 900 million and about half of those logged in on any given day, this is a market that businesses simply can’t afford to ignore. Twitter started as a small project among a few coworkers at a podcasting company in San Francisco in 2006. Today, Twitter, which is defined as a “micro-blogging service,” has 100 million registered users. More than half log in every day and the average number of daily tweets is 230 million. A “tweet” is basically a mini-post limited to 140 characters. About 55 percent of users log in with their mobile apps. Thanks to Twitter, the world is more interconnected and “real-time” than ever before. Accurate news usually breaks first on Twitter. Look at the effect social networking, particularly Twitter, has had in the recent demise of tyrannical regimes. Only a year old, Google Plus (or Google+) is the new kid on the block and as far as social networks go, is in its infancy. Despite rumors of poor statistics and the projections of prophets of doom, the network should not be discounted. Its founders have learned from the mistakes of Facebook and have developed a much more user-friendly network. This is the time for savvy businesses to start using contacts to build “circles.” Unique features at Google+ are its integration of services, clean and professional interface, ease of use, and the growing popularity of “hangouts.”
BABY STEPS Start with a strong presence and quality content. Your website is your presence on the web. Like the house you live in, on a street in your neighborhood at an address, your web site lives on the World Wide Web (www) at an address called a URL, acronym for “universal resource locator.” But it’s not necessary to have a website in order to use the social networks. You can even have a business page on Facebook without a web site, but the timelines are so unattractive and limiting for businesses, that it can actually work against you. USE THESE SOCIAL MEDIA to drive traffic to your website, which hopefully has fabulous content, visual appeal and is consumer friendly. If you’re looking for a wedding planner and he or she operates out of the trunk of their car, can you trust them to set up an awesome dinner for 1,000 people? A junky site or having no website at all is, in the minds of many knowledgeable consumers, a direct reflection on the kind of service or product you provide. I’m often asked if it’s necessary to have a blog, and my response is always the same. The more presences you have on the web, the more opportunities you have to drive traffic to your site. Think of the stores and services that have their main office miles away from you with a branch in your neighborhood. So, while not necessary, it is certainly encouraged especially if you have a non-blog type, static website. Remember, “out of sight, out of mind.”
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“Shrouded in Guilt,” by Daisy Yokley • Ruidoso, N.M. • See more of her beautiful work at: www.worldofdaisy.com
loves Daisy Yokley! If you enjoy photographing your community and/or the many beautiful places of our wonderful Land of Enchantment, and would like to share a special photo on this page, you’ll receive credit and a live link in the caption, and of course, our gratitude and admiration!