Grand Dogs and Grandsons

So no Lyft driving this week because I am sitting here in my son’s place along the Rio Grande river.  It’s Friday and I am on my own personal “road trip”.  Yesterday I made my way on the well worn path I have carved between the Front Range and the Upper Rio Grand Valley.  This routine began in 1986, when we moved four kids, two cats, and Smiley the dog 🐕 to the San Luis Valley.  I lost track a few years ago, of my drives over La Veta Pass, when I had logged over 400 trips. Yesterday involved a quick stop at DiSanti Farms, where I brought four bushels of Dynamite Roasted Pueblo Green  Chile 🌶 for my New Mexico family’s yearly supply.  I am observing my daughter in law, Melania, and Papa Mike put up this year’s supply. I had two small bites…I honestly had tears 😭 in my eyes.  Papa Mike and Grandson Miko weren’t phased… Generational adaptive tolerance? I have a confession…. mild works for me. 

I am here for the opening football game of Espanola Valley High Sun-devils.  I have included a link to a story from the Sante Fe paper, that expands on how Miko came here for his Senior Year.  I have been coming to New Mexico for 12 years to watch Miko play.  One year his team lost every game.  “I wonder what it would feel like to win”? he asked.  His 8th grade year he found out, as he quarterbacked his team to the equivalent of the NM state championship.  As a sophomore he was set to start for Cherry Creek HS in Denver and then a foot injury took him out.  The death of another grandpa necessitated a move back to NM.  He decided, out in very rural NM, to put up his cleats.  The return of coach Miguel Medina opened a conversation about the possibility of Mr. Miko’s Opus.  Tonight he will lead his 32 other teammates out to face their arch rival Los Alamos, who they have not beat in the last 16 years… blue collar/struggling vs. educated/privilege.  I will keep you posted.

Now to Johnny the Chihuahua.  Right now in my life, my love of dogs and need to have one, must be limited to my grand dogs.  I was NEVER a Chihuahua guy, until Johnny Rocket.  I have known him since he was two pounds (three years ago).  He doesn’t know he’s little.  Whenever we meet he gives a warm welcome then goes on about his business.  So here I sit, watching Papa Mike get his yearly stash of chili bagged.  Melania is assisting and I am listening to Mike’s music , which just finished Leonard Cohen’s “Alleluia”.  He said “The Cracks are What let the Light Shine in”.  Today I am living in the light. 

Onward and Upward,

Mark

PS— The Sundevils lost… but Miko has inherited the “Hope-Freak” gene “It’s great to be playing again… we will get better”.