I got comments from two friends about my blog regarding how the name of the city of Albuquerque (or Albuqueque or Alburquerque) seems to have missed the spell-checker when it was printed on a directional sign erected by the New Mexico Highway Department.
Here’s the link to that post, if you missed it:
wordpress.com/post/aero-cordero.com/3570
First, from my long-time but directionally challenged balloon crew chief, fly fishing wizard, and always entertaining Gloria, comes her comment that the city of Santa Fe can’t event spell her street name correctly.
The street she and husband Dave live on is actually one of the coolest street names I’ve seen, Calle Hawikuh, named after a Zuni pueblo from centuries ago.
Here’s what I found on Wikipedia about Pueblo Hawikuh (don’t always believe everything they say. Do your own research!!!)
“Hawikuh was one of the largest of the Zuni pueblos at the time of the Spanish entrada. It was founded around 1400 AD. It was the first pueblo to be visited and conquered by Spanish explorers.”
Too bad for the Zuni people. And of course, spell checker wants to change the name Hawikuh to “hawkish” or “haiku” or “haikus.”
And Gloria’s comment:
“And (The city of) Santa Fe could not get our street name correct either,” she lamented. “It is Hawikuh not Hawkuh. But our street sign won’t be fixed.”
And next, from my great neighbor and owner of Chester’s best friend, the golden-doddle “Sy,” comes this confession. When he went to buy a new dog tag for Sy, he misspelled his own last name.

When my friend and I first played golf and I had to enter his name on the cart reservation form, I had no idea how to spell his last name. I fumbled with a pen and the reservation form and then, seeing I was having an issue, he spelled it out for me — correctly.
But at any rate, as he confesses in his recent comment, it’s a very long name to spell. And when it came to putting a last name to a new dog tag for Sy, he didn’t get it right.
Here’s his story:
“Recently my dog, with one of the shortest dog names in the state, needed a replacement engraved dog tag. I rushed down to the local pet store to print a new one. I, with one of the longest names in the state, misspelled my own last name on the tag. Unlike the State of New Mexico, I am generally not afraid that others see my errors. Besides it’s not hanging around my neck. A new one will cost $19.95.”
He even has a vintage campaign poster for a relative with his last name plastered on the wall of his home office. He looks at it every day, and you’d think it would be a useful reminder about how to spell his last name.
I get that my last name “Lamb” is a lot easier to spell than my friend’s last name.” So I’m not holding it against him for blowing a 2-amp brain fuse on this one occasion. My brain regularly blows them when I need even marginal thinking power.
Sy, however, might think otherwise, if he could actually spell. So if you see a large (near 100 pound) friendly, fluffy golden-doodle around our neighborhood wearing a dog tag with a last name that doesn’t seem to match his owners, don’t be confused. Sy doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and is just happy to meet anyone, even if you’re puzzled about what his last name is.