Check it out below.

See? What did I tell you?

After 13 years of study (including kindergarten!), Yvonne is graduating from La Cueva High School!!! The ceremony is this Sunday, May 11, at the Pit. If you’re anywhere near Albuquerque, come celebrate with us!!

This picture was taken during the robing ceremony, in which my mother Yvonne robed Yvonne in the official cap and gown that Yvonne will wear on Sunday. We got to hear all about all the accomplishments of all the seniors…  and yeah, La Cueva is full of very high achieving kids. It’s nice to hear and all, but Yvonne’s college is completely paid for, and I’m SO proud of her, and that’s really all I was there for. 

I still recommend this book to people whenever I get the chance, as I hope it can influence people just as positively as it did me. Most people give me a friendly ear while I rant and rave about it, find it on the internet, and print out excerpts for them to read, but they never pursue it. Regardless, I still try, because I believe in what Benjamin Hoff had to say.

Imagine, then, how disheartened I was to discover today that Mr. Hoff put up a website a couple of years ago for the sole purpose of announcing that he was quitting writing books. In an eloquent and heartbreaking essay, he explains how the publishing industry essentially destroyed his love of writing, and further explores the death of new and creative thought in the world today.

I encourage you to read it. It’s painful, but necessary. Here’s an excerpt:

The variety is constantly diminishing as corporate committees of book-ignorant, conservative-minded decision makers reject ideas and rework manuscripts they consider too new and untried, not in harmony with a particular point of view or political ideology, or lacking the potential to quickly and sensationally bring them large amounts of risk-free money. Literary quality and intelligence are being lost as well in the relentless corporate dumbing down of literature and numbing down of readers. And authors.

In an age where we are increasingly concerned about the consolidation of television, radio, and internet media, this essay is very important. It serves as a sobering reminder that books–the oldest and most potent vehicle for ideas–are suffering the same brutal injustices as are their brethren in the more talked-about forms of information sharing.

Our big orange cat Cletus fell ill in October with what was most likely liver cancer. He held on for another two months, until finally, yesterday, December 9, he let me know that his suffering was too great. I took him to an emergency clinic, where I met Dr. Deeb, who was celebrating his 49th birthday. He was very loving and gentle with Cletus, whom I held like a baby until he had passed on. Before we were taken in, I had about half an hour alone with Cletus in the van. He purred constantly and meowed every time I stopped petting him. He gazed into my eyes… I don’t suppose that he knew what was about to happen, but I’m glad we had those last few minutes together.

Zoe has never dealt well with death… her experiences with it so far have been few and far between, but every time, it’s a devastating blow to her. Although Cletus was the most aloof of our cats, he was nevertheless one of our cats, and Zoe is just not dealing well with it. It’ll take some time.

I stopped by a store called Wanderlust, which was recommended by Julia of Mother Road Theatre, and found some jewelery for Zoe and me, commemorating Cletus. I got a ring with an amber stone, and a pendant with a topaz or citrine stone (nice orangey color, in either case). I love both of them, so I’ll have to leave the decision up to Zoe, as to who gets which item. And to top it off, Zoe got braces on her lower teeth today, and had her rubber bands on her braces all changed to orange in Cletus’s honor. Everyone in the orthodontist’s office extended their condolences to us, which was very kind, and very appreciated.

For what it’s worth, Ms. Hunter seems like a very nice woman, and if there was any paranormal power I’d like to have seen verified, that was it.

I’ve decided that I will occasionally share a song or two that I discover on Amie Street, as there’s some neat stuff there. This time around, I’m going to be sharing an entire album by soft-rockers (and new parents) The Weepies. Their latest album, Say I Am You, is a beautiful series of songs that I can’t seem to yet get tired of listening to.

Give it a try, and see if this album doesn’t hook you.

Years later, I’m reading about a horrible accident that happened today in 1991:

33-year-old insurance agent Lori Keevil-Matthews visits an outdoor art project installed by Christo. 1,760 yellow umbrellas were scattered along the ridge line of the Tejon Pass, near Interstate 5 in Southern California. Then a freak 40 mph gust suddenly picks up a 485-pound umbrella, slamming the spectator against a boulder. She dies on the scene.

I decide to go check out what this Christo is all about, and presto, I find his website, replete with a gallery of some of his work. I start to look at this stuff, and suddenly it hits me – I like it. It’s not a painting, or a sculpture, or anything like that. It’s more than that. It’s of a scale that most people wouldn’t attempt, and is executed with a certain sense of style that really takes one’s breath away. I can almost imagine going to see one of these projects, perhaps on a day that’s not windy, and taking in the sheer breadth and scope of what Christo and Jeanne-Claude are able to accomplish.

So, after years of thinking that this man was the con artist of the art world, I must now change my opinion and declare that I believe him to be a man who has crafted some very beautiful landscapes, which is something he should be darn proud of.

If this Rosemary Hunter person turns out to be genuine, she should become a crime fighter.

This site seems like a good place to start.

There may be some links that don’t work like they used to, so if you find one, let me know.