Scary, scary Christians in this town.
Me and my lovely mom went to a performance tonight by a wonderful pianist.
He spoke a little introduction to each piece, some of which were very educational.
It was delightful, really. I especially like that he finished with several pieces by Chopin, because, of course, I just finished Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse, and Chopin is all over that book. (and i don't really know anything about music, so it was great listening to this master pianist playing and thinking about Agnes, the little nun utterly corrupted.
There was an intermission and then the pianist played the organ and he and the singers did selections from Phantom of the Opera.
The singing was good, the organ was fabulous.
Except the auditorium was at the military academy, and the crowd was overwhelmingly (well nigh exclusively) Anglo, Christian, and Republican.
These are not, mind you, the ordinary, everyday Christians. The folks who are happy and secure in their faith and are perfectly happy to let you have your own whatever it might be or none at all. These are the ones who wear crucifixes and angel pins and meet in big churches to pray for the confirmation of scary Alito to the Supreme Court. And ask Have you Found Jesus. scary scary scary. In my head, of course, I am working on arguments, such as the fact that homofobia is no part of the good rabbi Jesus's teaching, and that, on the contrary, the texts referring to the disciple beloved by Christ would indicate a benevolent view toward same-sex relations. But outside my head, my mouth is dry, and my eyes are scanning from one to another and wondering if I can leap over the old lady's cane that's blocking the aisle to make my escape.
Yes, folks, there's a reason that I don't live in Roswell. In fact, during my absolute worst visit here twelve years ago, I was constantly either enraged or terrified by this very white conservative West Texas town in New Mexico territory.
(pinches gabachos stole our land and now they're praying for Alito. And singing along to the Music of the Night!)
jueves, enero 12, 2006
Roswell, NM (Day 3)
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4 comentarios:
Yikes! That sounds utterly creepy! And what a shame, too, because NM is, to my mind, filled with so much beautiful landscape. The incongruity seems, somehow, downright offensive to me.
The wife and I ended up spending the night in Roswell after lingering at Carlsbad a little too long and being too tired to drive back to Albuquerque.
The people there are rather scary. I attribute it to Texas Imperialism.
The New Mexico I dream about is up north around Santa Fe (although it is a bit too trendy), Espanola, Chimayo, etc.
hey ktrion!
i actually grew up in a way creepy christian town like this...once the time came that i could get the hell out, i was GONE! only very occasionally will i go back, and then my skin itches the whole time i am there...they all seem to have this weird look in their eyes---like they believe that jesus is in them SO much that they go through an actual transformation or something...I don't know. There is nothing I miss less than my hometown. nothing.
Thanks y'all!
New Mexico is really beautiful. I grew up in el Norte: Las Vegas and Mora. West Las Vegas class of '83. In fact, when I leave on Tuesday, my Dad, Don Fon, will take me to the train station in Vegas. That area's not Christian or Anglo--very old school with all these Catholic traditions (no dancing during Lent!) that I never heard about anywhere else.
Girls are warned that if they go dancing during Lent, they will end up dancing with the devil.
Guys are warned that if they go partying during Lent, they'll encounter brujas or La Llorona
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