And We’re Even Contiguous

I’ve noticed a lot of talk lately on Facebook about New Mexico being a mystery to the rest of the world.

I’ve noticed this before.

Over and over.

I’ve lived in New Mexico on and off almost my entire life.  So when I moved to Colorado in 1989 it was from Albuquerque.  And the thing I got asked the most was, “Why are your bangs so big?”  But that’s another blog.  The second most common question was, “Do you have a green card?”

I was also told I spoke English remarkably well, which typically wasn’t true of the person telling me that.  Not that they spoke another language better. They just didn’t speak English well.  Maybe I could accept this bizarre confusion about New Mexico being part of the contiguous united states if they lived somewhere like Ohio, where New Mexico is foreign enough to seem as though it were a country by itself.  But this is Colorado.  Your state actually touches ours.   And not coyly, like someone who cops a feel in an elevator.  Colorado is all up in our grill.

I mean, haven’t these people ever heard of Four Corners?  It’s a big metal plate in the ground.  You can take lots of pictures and get Indian Tacos.  You’ve really never heard of this?  Not knowing the state right next to yours is a state requires a special kind of ignorance.  I’m just saying.

What I’ve noticed the most is that people just somehow don’t hear the New part when I say I’m from New Mexico.  Or they do hear it but for some reason disregard it.  Like New is a cute little nickname we give to our part of Mexico.  “Oh, that New Mexico, he’s so crazy.”   Or maybe New is just a moniker we’ve given ourselves in a bizarre marketing attempt to seem more appealing.  And when we just give in and switch back to Old Mexico, people will be so relieved.

I was driving to Missouri to attend a graduation once and I was in the bathroom of a McDonald’s in Shamrock, Texas.  The sinks were shaped like the state of Texas.  And no, I’m not making that up.  Because if there’s anything that Texans like more than firearms and heavily stylized folk artsy stars, it’s things shaped like their state.  There was a very perky blonde woman in there, washing her hands.  In fact, there was an army of perky blondes in there.  Like Stepford Wives were taking a field trip.  But somehow she found out I was from New Mexico and told me she and her friends were going to a camp in Rhema, New Mexico.

Then she told me, enthusiastically, that she’d never been to Mexico before.  In fact, she’d never even been out of the country.  She was so excited I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she still wasn’t going to be doing either.  Also, I was little afraid of her and what would happen if she and her fellow mom-droids lost their composure.

So, I’m wondering where New Mexico disappears to.   I’m wondering how we got lost off the map for everyone who isn’t currently living here or has lived here before.  We’re like the missing state.  Somehow no one realizes we’re here.  Which could be good or bad, I guess.  At least we don’t have any New Mexico shaped sinks in our bathrooms.

Amber