The Red Writer: From Santa Fe to Ruidoso to Roswell, NM

ROSWELL, New Mexico - After dropping Admiral Fox off at the Albuquerque Airport Saturday, The Red Writer made a beeline, of sorts, south to Ruidoso, New Mexico where amigo Dave Tomlin and his daughter Lizzie were waiting for the trailer to show up on their ridgetop land.

At the Tomlin ridge-top cabin

     About three hours after our farewell at Albuquerque, The Red Writer pulled into Dave's driveway at his incredibly cool mountaintop getaway.
     No need to even unhook the trailer... And while that might seem like a small thing, well, it isn't.
     We had two great days that included red wine, dinner at a Mexican restaurant, watching 9-year-old Lizzie demonstrate her new-found prowess on roller skates and enough newspaper/journalism industry tale-swapping to file a book.

Deer neighbors in Riudoso

Wait! There's an idea for a book! Journalism Tales Told Twice.

After Ruidoso I headed for Roswell, New Mexico, partly to simply check it out and also because I needed to get to some warmer weather. In Ruidoso at night it was about 35 degrees - up to maybe 60 in the daylight.
But the real reason was to immerse in the city-encouraged alien lore that permeates the town.

     The campground where The Red Writer resides right now has enough alien touristy stuff to make the most ardent E.T. fan salivate.
     Yes, I have my eye on a few pieces.
     As this is written, the sun is going down and everyone is huddled in their RVs, no doubt concerned about the rising wind and whether it portends some close encounter with the third kind.
     After spending a half-hour in a bar waiting for my to-go dinner order, I think there's little reason for concern.
    The space alien-weirdos were all swilling odd-colored drinks and unlikely to fly their saucers.
    I wonder what the legal limit is for green-blooded creatures to launch vessels into the ionosphere?