The Grey Pride Parade

When I was a student at Temple University in Philly, I took a UFO class with an amazing professor, Dr. David Jacobs. The class was great and the idea of UFO's both fascinates and terrifies me all at once. (Especially since all I can remember from the class are the abductee horror stories.) My love of kitsch combined with my fascination of UFO's lead us to stop in Roswell, New Mexico--home of the infamous alleged UFO Crash in 1947.

Before arriving in Roswell, I had a vision of a city full of trashy UFO fun and alien heads. I also had wildly assumed that since everyone in Santa Effing Fe was insane, that everyone in Roswell would be normal by comparison, even under their UFO crash exteriors.

The things I saw here yesterday changed all of that.

Upon arriving in Roswell, NM, we stopped at a place to eat called "Nothin' Fancy." It definitely lived up to its name.

Nothin!

We had originally planned to spend a few hours in Roswell, checking out the cheap UFO tchotchkes and random alienjoy before heading out to Las Cruces to spend the night halfway between here and Phoenix.

I was not prepared for what we walked into. We somehow managed to arrive on the weekend of the annual UFO Convention. Turns out that they celebrate the anniversary of that crash the first week of July every year. Who knew??

Jon and I first made our way through the blocked off streets of downtown Roswell toward the UFO Museum. Most of the non-UFO related shops were closed (ofcoursetheywere--it was later than 3PM after all...)

YumSpell!

As we entered the International (!!) UFO Museum and Research Center, I was simply blown away. They had us sign in, and we made the suggested two dollar donation to enter.



Inside, there was a great amount of detail regarding the crash in 1947--newspaper clippings of the initial reports, as well as those of the alleged weather balloon cover-up. There is also pretty in-depth exhibits on close encounters of each kind, and ancient cultures and how alien creatures seemed to be popping up even thousands of years ago.

Of course, there was the cheap, trashy side of the UFO and alien phenomenon. . .

JonJoy by a horse covered with Roswell crash articles. I have no idea.

VerySerious about my work.

After the museum experience, we decided that we'd stick around for the alien costume contest. Ofcoursewedid. While waiting for it to begin, Jon and I decided to walk around and see all that downtown Roswell has to offer:

We wandered in and out of cheesy UFO shops and found one with a "Space Walk." The guy inside the shop reminded me of Curly Joe DeRita. He was doing bits all over the place and his pitch totally convinced me to check out the Space Walk. Fluorescent painted lameness ensued.

We also entered a store where the shopkeep was hosting a radio show from behind the counter. Today's subject? How the Bible has given us everything we need to know about the UFO phenomenon...but we just need to know where to look.

Jon and I left. Quickly.

Besides--it was nearly time for the Big Event: The Alien Costume Contest!!!

This is where people dress up their children, their pets and themselves in an attempt to win some sort of small cash prize.

I'll let the photos speak for themselves.










This is around the time Jon became obsessed with the pretty, pretty princesses. Seriously, I was a little worried about him. He has about a hundred photos of them. As he told me later, "I don't love them. I want to be them." Ofcoursehedoes.

Meanwhile, I was maybe a little bit busy with the guy carrying a bit of foil around, screaming: "IT WAS A WEATHER BALLOON!"


Jon thinks I was in love with him only because he was doing a bit. He's probably right. Or maybe he's The One. Either way. . .

I was also in love with Norma...albeit a different kind of love altogether.

The future Mrs. Jeff NuceraJoy

Seriously. Any retired woman who would get into her Jazzy and dress up like this in an alien costume contest is either totally insane or totally amazing.

Judging from the bear-claw shoes, I'm definitely leaning towards super-crazy.


Somehow, even though they handed out about fifty seven prizes, Norma was completely overlooked. Maybe it was her drunken rant into the microphone. Maybe it was the way she stumbled around when she stood up for fifteen seconds. Or maybe it was the basket on her Jazzy. All I know is that apparently, even the wackos have people they think are too crazy.

Later, there was an actual parade--complete with fire trucks, ambulances...and shriners in tiny cars driving around. There was also a local high school band playing music from Star Wars.

And now, we're leaving New Mexico for good. And I still am not ringing that bell.

Day Seven : Santa Fe, NM to Roswell, NM

Mile 1590.4 -- Bye Luxury Inn!

Mile 1592.4 -- Souper! Salad!



Eh! Eh! Eh!

Mile 1593.1 -- F*cking Hava Java.

Mile 1593.2 -- We ask a postman for suggestions about where to eat breakfast. He suggests Carl's Jr, but then remembers that they stop serving breakfast at 11 am. Worst. Postman. Ever.

Mile 1594.4 -- Abandoned all hope. Venturing towards downtown Santa Fe.

Mile 1595.9 -- With the discovery of Dunkin' Donuts, Jeff doesn't hate Santa Fe as much as he used to.

Mile 1596.0 -- Back on the road...to Roswell!

Mile 1600.2 -- We have left Santa Fe behind. Thank G-d.

Mile 1601.8 -- We see a sign that tells us how man kilometers it is to Las Vegas, New Mexico. New Mexico uses the metric system? Ofcoursetheydo.

Mile 1614.3 -- We pass a sign for " New Mexico Girls Ranch." We don't stop.

Mile 1631.9 -- Someone else's car appears to be exploding.

Mile 1649.0 -- 140 Miles to Roswell!

Mile 1659.4 -- Bessie declares that she can't wait to get the heck out of New Mexico.



Mile 1668.8 -- No Cell service on the road to Roswell. Jon blames the aliens.

Mile 1692.4 -- We drive through Vaughn.



It's Crazytown here.



They buy rocks and things in Vaughn!

Mile 1713.0 -- Jeff is bored. And driving.

Hi...that's a very dangerous combination.

Mile 1732.9 -- Still in the middle of nowhere.



It might be a little boring here.

Mile 1747.4 -- Only 40 miles to Roswell!

Mile 1750.3 -- We pass a sign for Billy the Kid's grave. We don't stop. Billy Joel fans everywhere scream in disappointment.

Mile 1755.2 -- The singing every song like Fred Schneider bit makes a comeback!

Mile 1766.9 -- Gay Boyfriend sing-a-long time!



Mile 1769.6 -- Friends become enemies.



Enemies friends.

Mile 1782.6 -- Welcome to Roswell, New Mexico! It's the Dairy Capitol of the Southwest!

Mile 1784.6 -- Larry's Discount Gun Shop!



For all of your discount gun needs!

Mile 1785.2 -- Lunchtime at the "Nuthin' Fancy" Cafe!



It's home cooking...without the mess! Or the taste!

Mile 1787.2 -- We're in Downtown Roswell.





Send help.

Munchkinland (formerly: The Land of (Dis)Enchantment)

I'm not gonna lie. The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was stop screaming. The second thing I did when I woke up this morning was wish I wasn't in Santa Fe.

It's not that we didn't wind up having a great time last night with the lovely loaves....It's just that it was an extraordinarily difficult ride to get there...and Santa Fe certainly did everything it could to prevent it from happening.

We missed the continental breakfast at the hotel (which ended at NINE AM...Because THAT's when people are awake and ready to go on an F'ing Saturday F'ing morning) so we once again found ourselves sans food. The woman at the front desk offered up some prepackaged blueberry muffins, but to hell with that. We needed real food. By the time we showered and dressed it was just after 11AM.

In the real world, we'd be able to find a place with no problem. However, we're in New Mexico. And like most other sequels, it sucks. Hard. We drove around looking for Hava Java, which, as Jon reported earlier, was a disaster.

In that very parking lot where the former Fotomat-turned-micro-coffee-house was, I asked the mailman if he could help us find a place for breakfast. "Breakfast? This late?" I nearly jumped out of my car and throttled him.

IT WAS ELEVEN OH F*CKING FOUR AM.

SERIOUSLY.

And I might have been a little hungry. Anyway, he told us that the Carl's Jr (a west coast fast food chain) stopped serving breakfast at 11, and he couldn't think of ANYplace that would serve breakfast at this ungodly hour.

My hatred for Santa Fe grew exponentially. Jon and I continued to drive down the road and decided that the only real chance we had for breakfast was to go back into the downtown area where everything was sure to be closed already since it was after 6:30AM but before 5PM.

Hi, why is everything only open for a half o'clock in Santa Fe?

Anyway, just as tensions were beginning to rise...up like a phoenix it arose. The sign I had so desperately looked for on our last road trip. The sign I grew up loving. The sign that California has none of. The sign that there is, indeed, a God--and that he has not forsaken us:


I couldn't believe it! A Dunkin' Donuts! AND it is open 24 hours a day/7 days a week. IN SANTA EFFING FE. Take that stupid lame Dippin' Donuts in Oregon!

Clearly we stopped. And clearly, my hatred of Santa Fe dwindled. But only a little.

Caution: HotCoffeeJoy!

Delicious CoffeeJoy!

After bloggin' and dunkin', we sped out of town as fast as we could...neglecting the need for gas. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was that we were out of Santa Fe--never to return!

And THEN we went to Roswell and achieved Maximum Craz-E-Ness.

SuperCrazyJazzyCrazy!

Suffice it to say, whatever was going on in Roswell distracted us enough that we're officially staying the night. You'll read all about Roswell next time on Carjoy--assuming I don't get my memories of Roswell wiped out while I'm asleep.

Also, I'm hoping there won't be any anal probes to speak of in the morning. Keep your fingers crossed!

Don't Ring That Bell!

A few years ago, when my sister Donna was moving to San Diego, she and her friend Nicole stopped in Santa Fe. They didn't enjoy it.

At one point, they were in a store and found a bell with a sign attached that read, "If you ring this bell, you'll come back to Santa Fe!" Nicole screamed, "DON'T RING THAT BELL!"

Yesterday, Jon and I discovered why.

After leaving (boring) Taos, we headed the two-ish hours towards Santa Fe. We were excited to be in Santa Fe for the night. We were lured with the promise of "things to do." We figured it was a Friday night in a decent-sized city. We're sure to find some stuff to do! Jon did a little research and found a write-up online about a gay bar called "The Drama Club," which is just hilarious on so many levels.

Once we arrived in town, we immediately checked into our Luxurious hotel and, having learned our lesson from before, we headed out for some food before we became too ravenous. Jon drove us into town and we noticed that many of the restaurants were closed. According to the AAA book, most places didn't open until 5:30 for dinner. How could this be? How could everything be closed in New Mexico ALL THE TIME??? In Taos, everything was closed by 9PM. In Santa Fe, everything was closed before 5:30PM. What sort of arbitrary, half-assed schedule are the people of New Mexico on? As we continued to quest to find a place to eat, Jon slowly but surely began to get more and more stabby. He began yelling at the cars in front of us to drive faster. He yelled at the buildings that were closed. He yelled at the shopping center we had to turn around in.

Eventually, we found a place that seemed open (in that its doors were open--no one was actually anywhere near the place) so Jon tried to find a place to park. It was around this time that he started hollering at the one-way streets for being one-way. Thankfully, we found a parking meter before he chewed my leg off.

When we got into the Burrito Company Cafe, Jon silently raged at the ridiculous tourist family in front of us. Once our food arrived, everyone calmed down and we were able to leave Stabbyville (Population: Jon) and Carjoy was no longer StarveJoy...or CarStab.

After enjoying the Georgia O'Keeffe museum, we wandered around the Plaza for about ten seconds before realizing we didn't want to be there anymore.

Ofcourseheis

We got back to the hotel where an e-mail was waiting for me from Lauren--a girl I worked with about eight years ago back east, when I was still working in radio. Turns out she is here in Santa Fe for a master's program, and wanted to hang out while we were in town. I called and invited her to the Drama Club, and she was totally up for it.

About ten minutes later, upon doing a little more research, we discovered that the Drama Club closed. Years ago. Ofcourseitdid. And, apparently, that was the last gay bar in town. "Well, to hell with that! We'll just grab dinner and drinks at a pub or something with Lauren and her friends!" Lauren and her friends were already out and having fun, so we decided to join her in progress. It was about 9PM and, unfortunately for us, that's over a billion o'clock in the New Mexico time zone. Every ten minutes or so, Lauren called to tell us that where ever they were, it was closing.

After showering and making a half a dozen phone calls to various places, we discovered that, between 9 and 10PM, everything in Santa Fe closes for the night. SERIOUSLY. EVEN THE BARS. ON A FRIDAY NIGHT. The front desk clerk at the Luxurious Hotel we were staying in suggested we eat at Denny's. No thanks.

As Jon and I made the rapid descent back into Stabbyville via the Starvation Highway, we drove back into the dreaded downtown area to try and meet up with Lauren before we got arrested on some sort of curfew violation for being outside after 7PM.

On our way to the "Oar House" (seriously) Jon and I stumbled upon a closed-looking mall with a sign that promised "Rooftop Pizza!" Since literally every other place we called had just closed, we thought it wasn't even worth a shot. Jon pressed the button for the elevator, but then we heard the sweet sounds of voices wafting down the stairway next to it. Could it be--PEOPLE? Real live people? Coming from what we presume must be the rooftop? Without waiting for the elevator, we ran upstairs to the Rooftop and discovered that Rooftop Pizza was, in fact, open.

Crowded it was not, but at least there was food and beverage to be had.

Friday night in downtown Santa Fe.

Starvation

SalvationJoy!

As soon as we were done eating, Lauren called again to tell us that the Oar House was closing. Ofcoursetheywere. We went outside to meet her and her friends, and they were making plans to go back to the dorms they were staying at for some random fun.

Jeff and LaurenJoy--Together again!

Dorms? Really? Jon and I initially weren't too keen on the idea of going to a dorm room and drinking booze as if we were 18, so we tried to kidnap Lauren to find somewhere else to hang out. Surely, Something, Somewhere had to be open. But her friend Katie somehow managed to convince us to go back to the dorms with them. I could already tell this girl was trouble.

Lauren and her other pal Taylor climbed into the Turquoise Bullet (our first Carjoy Guests!) and Taylor attempted to navigate us back to the college campus. At one point, she uttered the phrase, "Do you know where we are?"

Eventually, she got us to the campus and our Friday night in Santa Fe continued to get more and more random and ridiculous.

Wine and Balls. Who could ask for anything more?

Lauren and I caught up with each other and Taylor and Katie regaled Jon and I with stories of how they've been causing trouble all throughout their dorms for the three weeks or so that they've been in town--including one where Katie entered Taylor's dorm room carrying a sack full of burritos while wearing a Native American facemask. Their neighbor wasn't too happy. Apparently, everyone else has gone crazy from the lack of things to do in Santa Fe as well. Luckily, Jon and I get to leave today.

LaurenJoy and KatieTrouble

The night that started off pretty much as a disaster ended up being wine-and-hilarity filled, thanks to Lauren and her breadloafy friends.

Red wine + White wine = TipsyFun!

Jon's Version of Stonehenge

LaurenJoy, Carjoy's Jeff, KatieTrouble and TaylorFun!

Thanks for the DormJoy, ladies! Good luck with the rest of your time in Santa Fe. Seriously. You're gonna need it. And whatever you do--DON'T RING THAT BELL!

The Statues Made us Die

It's a billion o'clock, and we're in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where we were attacked by giant birds!

Luckily, a hunter rescued us from the birds! But then he shot us in the face and now we're dead. Again.

We'll update you on Saturday.