I consolidated the stories about Fred.


...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. flipaul@yahoo.com

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Dreaming With Ancient Enemies, A PC Nightmare.

This last weekend my family and I toured Bandelier National Monument (somewhat by accident - blog to follow). We toured the ruins of some ancient Native Americans. And then last night I had the strangest dream. It started out with me walking along the ruins with the crying Indian guy from the classic 70's littering commercial. He looks at me and says,
"I need you to get a message out to the world for me."
"Oh, is this about all those cigarette butts I threw out the window? 'Cause, I'm sorry"
"Nah, I understand, ashtrays stink, I throw mine out too."
"Then is it about my carbon footprint?"
"Not really, I drive a Hummer and eat at McDonalds every day. Love me a Big Mac."
"What is it then?"
"The name they have given our people"
"Indians? Well it's like this, Columbus thought..."
"No moron, my people. From here, the ruins here at Bandelier."
"Oh that. Anasazi, let's see. That means "Ancient Enemy" in Navajo right? That does suck."
"Yeah those A-Hole Navajos; you shoulda' heard what we called them."
"The A-Holes."
"Oh, and what did you guys call yourselves?"
"The Fabulous Thunderbirds."
"Impressive, so you want me to tell people to call you that instead of Anasazi?"
"Nah, we like that name too. It's cool and fierce."
"I thought you said you didn't like the name."
"Not that name. Now people are calling us Frijoles. Spanish for beans. Beans. What is that?"
"Ugh. That's awful."
"I know, huh?"
"Mr Fabulous T-Bird, I am a writer and I will do my part and get the word out about your plight."
"A writer? That's a stretch. You have a droll little site, but..."
"Hey! That's not very nice. Who's writing this bit anyway? By the way, what ever happened to your people?"
"Well, after one particularly bad winter, a condo salesman came up from Mexico and convinced us to move to the beach. Sun, sand, and waves; what wasn't to love? Plus, they had chocolate and mezcal."
"I love the beach. How did it work out for you all?"
"Well they made us sit in a hot room and listen to their time share spiel all day, and then they sacrificed us to Quetzlquatl."
"And to add insult to injury, people started calling us beans. You need to at least restore our good name. Help us Obi Wan; you're our only hope."
"huh?..", and I woke up as my 4 year old smacked me in the face with a lightsaber. And now I'm appealing to all you people out there, respect the Ancient Ones, don't call them Frijoles. You see, I know and share their pain; I was also called a bean. In high school our mascot was a Pinto. They claimed it was a horse, but we all knew the truth. Oh, the humiliation.