It was such a nice day here in the wilds of New Mexico—48* and partly cloudy— that I took an excursion out to the high desert volcanoes on the West Mesa.
Essentially this is a kinda set-aside, wilderness area with seven DORMANT volcanoes. Zillions of years ago, these same volcanoes actually formed the West Mesa, which has a 250 foot high escarpment that borders the north-south, Rio Grande flood plain.
The volcano peaks are at about 7500 feet above sea level. Albuquerque is about 5400 feet above sea level.
The West Mesa was the site of the infamous West Mesa Murders.
The West Mesa Murders refer to the remains of 11 women found buried in 2009 in the desert on the West Mesa of Albuquerque, New Mexico, United States. No suspects have been arrested and a serial killer is believed to be responsible. (Wikipedia.org)
That’s what Democrat-ruled New Mexico, and Albuquerque, are like these days. Albuquerque has a population of about 500K people but is one of the deadliest cities in America. This is reportedly because of the many Trump supporters, Amish, angry white people, and other Deplorables that have apparently flooded the area, from the south.
Anyways, there I was in the clear, silent Open Spaces, hiking along, totally alone, nothing to see Anywhere, all around. But, in the distance there appeared the figure of a lone person walking toward me on the same dirt path. As this figure got closer and closer I realized it was a male in his early 20’s.
This Millennial finally walks right past me without even looking at me. I mean—picture two small dots in the middle of a great circle of horizon…wilderness. Okay? Nothing, zilch, no sign.
As he goes TOTALLY, heedlessly past me, I see he is wearing saggy jeans, and earphones plugged into a smartphone. He is tapping something into the phone and his eyes are fixated on it like lasers. He never looks at me; he never says a word.
Okay. So I hike the volcanoes for a few hours and ultimately make my way tiredly back to the car. I’m in my 70s, but I feel good.
It’s important to stay hydrated here in New Mexico, so I am drinking water I have carried into the desert, and also keep lots of it in the car. I am able to remember and pronounce, “Carman Diaz” and “turmeric,” so that means I’m not dehydrated. I’m okay.
I know where there’s a Chinese takeout place and decide to risk Cultural Appropriation, and maybe even the wrath of Twitter, by getting some egg fu yong.
So I’m driving along this wilderness highway where the speed limit is 45. I am going faster than that. But, I am getting passed at MASSIVE speeds by cars and trucks piloted by Millennial-looking, young people. None of them use turn signals. None of them use the horn, or anything. Several are plugged into smart phones and tapping them as they pass me.
They blast by at maybe 70 miles an hour. There I am toddling along at a brisk clip faster than the posted speed limit, but I guess they don’t want to go that slow. But, where a Millennial might be in a hurry to get to, I don’t know.
I finally get to the Chinese place, and go inside. It’s hot in there from the kitchen.
The Millennial young woman behind the counter wears a sweatshirt and has the sleeves pulled down to cover her hands. She’s hanging onto the ends of the sleeves as if they are saving her from drowning, and looks cold. Her nose, ears, face, and eyebrows are pierced and look infected. She is wearing ear buds and they are plugged into a smartphone which NEVER leaves her hands.
She does not look at me but takes my order. Her expression is boredom verging on maybe anger. I ask if she is cold and she says yes, and pulls her hands into the sleeves like they are turtle heads.
But she never looks at me. I am sweating from heat at this point. I can’t imagine why her body apparently can’t handle temperature control.
Anyways, I get my order, take it home, lay it out, and when I turn my back for three seconds, the dog tears into my egg fu yong.
But I had a good time and a good walk on the Mesa, despite the eleven Murders, and the volcanoes only being dormant and not extinct, and the presence of Millennials.
And I learned more about Millennials on my excusion, and how not to talk, look, or respond to one.
I learned to have ZERO hope they will ever be trustworthy enough to inherit and run a great country, like America used to be.
Like America once was. In my living memory.
A vanished Golden Age, flush with fresh victory of having saved the world forever, from fascism, Nazism, and Islam.
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