JHFARR.COM

What have I been up to? Thinking, walking, pulling weeds. And starting a book, a novel this time. Rock & roll science fiction, I call it. That makes it lots more fun already. Maybe I can actually get into this. Wouldn’t that be amazing?

Someone emailed me recently to say that she was “loving your writing” since my mother died. Poor Helen, no wonder. A few years back but over 20 years since my father died, we were visiting and I had a letter to mail. She picked up the envelope, glanced at the return address, and noticed for the first time that I’d dropped the “Jr” from my name: “‘John H. Farr,’ is that who you think you are?” she asked with a smirk. Imagine saying that to a grown man. I should have decked her. Pow!

Apparently it’s easier to be myself when I’m not busy pulling arrows out. Jesus, is it any wonder some of us start “late”? I’ve been rolling for a long time, though: teacher, metal sculptor, cartoonist, painter, bronze caster, songwriter, news site editor, Web designer, columnist, author—so what’s this thing about just starting? Why did I say that? Are we counting money? They all made money, every one. That last one still does! I’m a friggin’ genius, I am. But it wasn’t enough, see? You probably don’t, but that’s all right.

And so I write my novel. Maybe I will have a pot to piss in, maybe not, but I will have my book and so will you.

»Buy This Photo!«

There, you see? Caught him red-handed. It was easy to photograph the blaggard because he wouldn’t run. Why should he? He comes to this table almost every night. It’s like it has his name on it. Do raccoons have names? This one does now. I think I’ll call him “Full.”

The amazing thing is that I feed the birds at all, or try to. It would probably help to have some. Although the last couple weeks of monsoon rains have dulled the edge of the drought, if that’s what it is, we just haven’t seen as many birds this year. My wife always reads the birdfood lady column in the Santa Fe New Mexican. I took one look at that and decided it was fiction. Where are these flocks ye speak of? Yet I put the birdseed out, sometimes twice a day. That’s because there’s this big-ass squirrel that takes the morning shift. It’s pretty humiliating to look out the window and see him staring back at me with cheeks bulged out like golf balls. Then I remember my carbine stashed away behind the bar!

Oh sure, there must be better ways to build a feeder than laying a piece of plywood on a barrel and weighting it down with rocks. Something that would keep raccoons away, like a big dog on a chain or a nice loud Harley. But what about the ants? That’s right. The big red and brown ones we have here will carry off sunflower seeds. There’s nothing quite like watching a parade of ants staggering off into the sagebrush with your stuff like clumsy native bearers in an old white hunter movie.

What’s a Fiestas parade without Zorro? (That would be Las Fiestas de Santiago y Santa Anna.) This fellow is actually a well-known Taos artist whose work I admire. (His wife is a fabulous artist, too.) I also have great respect for how he’s put his life together here, insofar as I’ve been able to pick up on it. Does his thing. He’s also a vintage auto enthusiast. More power to you, Señor, and on with the show.

»Buy This Photo!«

I should get one of these. Not the ponytail, the bike, so I can drop it and kill myself. I’ve got plenty of money to buy one, but that would shoot the so-called house down payment right between the eyes. What a way to go, though. I think of this every time I hear that V-twin rumble, which is any day in Taos when I leave the house.

I went to town twice yesterday, once to see the fiestas parade with my wife, and again in the evening to see an incredible concert by students of the Taos School of Music. Most of these “students” are actually performing professionals already, and it’s easy to see why. We were blown away by the intensity and talent, also the innovation. Two players in one string quartet used MacBook Pros instead of sheet music, tapping a USB foot pedal to advance the score, and another did the same thing with a freaking iPad and a wireless (Bluetooth) foot control! The cellist had the traditional xeroxed music pages stapled and taped together, hanging off the music stand. I wish I had been able to take a picture of that: what an amazing visual symbol of changing technology.

The last ensemble was even more remarkable: the cellist sat (of course) on a raised platform, while the violinists and the viola player stood and followed the music on the two MacBook Pros. I have never seen a cleaner stage setup for classical music. They played a late Beethoven string quartet that was absolutely bizarre. Ludwig didn’t have a Harley, but he was a couple hundred years ahead of his time. If this is unfamiliar territory for you, I sympathize. Not everyone can have a classical pianist for a wife to introduce them to this world.

»Buy This Photo!«