Calaveras

 

Santa Fe

Saturday, we got up at 5, rolled the kids out of bed and into sleeping bags in the van, and drove non-stop to Santa Fe for our afternoon concert at St. John's College. When we got there, my three best friends from law school were waiting for us, and with their help we set up in the plaza at the college.  The show went well, although the crowd was modest, the sun kept retuning the instruments and the altitude (7500 ft.) sucked the wind out of all the long notes.   

After the show, we had an authentic New Mexico dinner with my friends--the corn flour is blue, the bread is puffy little square pillows called sopapillas, and every dish is smothered in either red chile, green chile or half and half--referred to as "Christmas" by the locals.    

I spent Sunday through Tuesday with my 3 friends while Vickie and the kids wandered around Santa Fe.   We ate a lot of Mexican and New Mexican food, all of it involving chile (the Guadalupe Cafe, Pink Adobe, La Choza, Mariscos del Playa) watched a lot of guy movies (Zombieland, Kill Bill 1 & 2, Tombstone and, perhaps the most "guy" movie of all, BitchSlap), and spent hours talking--worrying about our kids, wondering about retirement, death and beyond, trying to figure out if our relationships with our wives were getting better or worse, and comparing physical ailments (my kidney stones took second place to Grant's near-destruction of his foot in a traffic accident).  Despite the sometimes depressing recognition of the entropy of aging, there were no mid-life crises that I could discern, just a bunch of guys who are starting to see clearly what their lives have shaped into.  And to my surprise, getting together with these old dear friends, watching a few movies our wives would never watch with us, and waxing nostalgic about the rigors and rewards of three years at Harvard Law School and now so many more years after it, somehow does a lot, all by itself, to counteract the effects of aging. 

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