My driver’s license was up for renewal this year, and now that I need to have a “New Mexico Real ID” license, I decided to get the complicated process moving early so I would not miss the appropriate deadline. Enter the Social Security Administration to waylay my plan.

When I was 11 or 12 years old, I proudly got my Social Security card, dipping my toe into the rising waters of adulthood and enthusiastically embracing my first civic duty. My full name is Glenn Patrick Lamb, but at the time, everyone just called me Pat Lamb, so that’s what I put on my application. It served me well until in recent years, the spelling of your full legal name must match various documents perfectly or you won’t get boarded on an airplane, get a driver’s license, be able to use a credit card or maybe even get into heaven (although in my case that’s certainly not assured.)

I first went to the Motor Vehicle Department to see if my existing Social Security card with the name “Pat Lamb” would pass muster as a required document for a New Mexico Real ID license. Of course no one at that office could use common sense and good judgement to allow my plan for driver’s license renewal to proceed. I was told, in no uncertain terms, that only the Social Security Administration could resolve the problem by issuing a new Social Security card with my full legal name.

I first drove to the local Social Security office for help. Oops, it’s closed because of COVID-19. After suffering through multiple pages of completely useless information on the Social Security website, I finally discovered a phone number where I might be able to discover how to get a new card. After a hold of about 40 minutes while a repetitive elevator music loop planted a permanent ear-worm in my brain, a human answered. I was told to fill out a form SS5, directed where to find and send it and was assured my problem would be resolved in time for me to meet my driver’s license expiration date. I needed to have at least two documents showing my full legal name accompanying the SS5 form. Thanks to my wife’s always reliable librarian brain for keeping track of things, I was able to submit an original and photo copy of my birth certificate and my current passport. I also included my old Social Security card showing my current number and what I felt was a well composed letter pleading my case. All of these documents contained the correct spelling of my full legal name.

On Monday, well within the promised time frame, I received my new card — only to discover my first name was misspelled. On the card, it proclaimed my name as Glen (not Glenn) Patrick Lamb. Remember, the only reason the Social Security Administration got this application was to correct my name. You’d think they could have successfully accomplished that one simple task.

So I called Social Security back. After another 40 minutes of waiting on the phone — a new ear worm infection from another grating loop song– I was finally told that they were sorry about the mistake, but I would have to resubmit everything again. I could try to plead my case with the local office, they said. I was told that even though the office is closed to the public, I might be able to get in for an urgent matter because the staff was still working behind closed doors. Um, well, if that was the case, why were there no cars in the employee parking lot when I went to the local office the first time? I was given a “secret” local phone number to try to arrange an “urgent” meeting, but when I called, I learned, again by recording, that the local office was closed due to COVID-19 (duh). The woman who finally answered confirmed no one was actually working inside the building and there wasn’t anything they could do to expedite my application.

I dropped another $4.50 certified letter in the mail, containing the only documents that may prove I exist, and for a second time, continue to hold my breath for a good outcome.

If all this goes badly, I guess I will just go rogue, not having any identification of my existence and no legal right to operate a motor vehicle as I travel the state’s highways. As far as I know, I’m still certified to fly a hot air balloon, so I guess in a pinch, I could use that mode of transportation — if the wind is blowing in the right direction to where I need to go.

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

— Mark Twain

There is a scene in the movie “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” in which England has been devastated by the bubonic plague and carts are being rolled down streets to pick up bodies claimed by the disease. As the person pulling the body-laden cart calls out “bring out your dead,” one pitiful soul ready to be dumped on the pile of corpses announces that “I’m not dead… I’m getting better.” Nevertheless, a person assisting with the cart ignores his multiple petitions for mercy and promptly whacks him on the head with a club to silence him. (Yes, I know it’s a really sophomoric movie, but it’s pretty darned funny, even after watching it many times. A clip of the scene is attached below.)

I mention this because a very good friend of ours recently announced to us on a live Zoom meeting that she was dead. You might say that announcement was kind of a stunner. She looked pretty alive and animated to us and others watching on our home computers. Dumbfounded, we waited for an explanation.

It turns out she had been doing online research on the genealogy of her family when she came across a family tree in which she was listed as having died in 2011. For being in the grave for nine years, she looked pretty good to us. We’re fairly certain she’s not a zombie either.

We still haven’t seen her in person, thanks to COVID-19 precautions. However, I’m fairly certain she’s doing just fine, which we all are exceedingly grateful to know.

I guess the moral of this experience is not to believe everything you see on the Internet. Well, except of course my blogs.

Stay safe and also stay alive, my friends.

Starting today, the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta 2021 would have kicked off with the “Albuquerque Aloft” event, where pilots take their balloons to elementary schools around the Albuquerque metro area to demonstrate them for kids. Then the next morning would begin nine days of pure chaos, excitement, thrills, happiness, disappointment and in the end, exhaustion. I wasn’t able to fly in last year’s event because I was still recovering from my heart surgery, but I had planned to participate this fall.

This year, because of COVID-19, the event was cancelled. There will be a few local balloons flying around the city during the next week to honor the huge event, but it won’t be the same. As much as I sometimes dreaded it — the planning, scheduling, concern about weather and shrinking landing sites, always being on top of your game for passengers, crew and Fiesta officials, etc. — I will miss it.

The main thing I miss is just the “feeling” of the event. That feeling is comprised of many elements. The smells of vendor-row food and freshly cut wet grass on a chilly early morning on Fiesta Field, the angle of the sun on fall mornings, the darkening blue sky and turning leaves that say winter is just around the corner, the indescribable thrill when you launch from a field packed with thousands of cheering spectators, the satisfaction and adrenalin rush you get after every safe flight, the fun at your post-flight tailgate, seeing old friend and meeting new ones, etc.

Three of my most memorable things from Fiesta are:

–Flying the American flag off the field at daybreak while the Star Spangled banner is being sung over the PA system and a crowd of thousands below you is respectfully hushed until the song is over.

–Flying over the Rio Grande on a very cold morning when the river is still warm and steam and mist rise off the water and ducks and geese scoot below you, complaining with quacks and honks about you invading their airspace.

–And the smell of Cocoa Puffs. Yes, the cereal. General Mills has a cereal factory immediately south of Fiesta Field. When you reach a certain altitude as you drift southward, the smell that comes from the manufacturing of the cereal (which I can never remember eating myself) fills the air around you at 500 feet above the ground. I know that’s strange, but it’s part of the mix of sensations that I’ll miss this year.

Let’s all hope it’s back to normal next year, when I think I’ll give it another try to sniff Cocoa Puffs in the sky.

I have changed the e-mail address you can use to contact me through this website. The new address is:

patrick@aero-cordero.com

While I’m flattered that I have a few souls who look periodically at my website and my blog, it’s been interesting to see that some vistors have come from China, India, Nigeria and France. I suspect these views are from nefarious people who hope I’m going to accidentally drop my Social Security number, bank account and credit card number somewhere in my posts. Or maybe they just want to know what a normal, boring American is thinking these days.

At any rate, if you worry about any of your information being compromised by leaving a message on my site, I am assured by the well-established company which hosts it, WordPress, that your comments are seen only by me and nothing you have sent can be compromised.

Thanks for reading and please send me your thoughts about anything I write. I’m not fishing for compliments — just want to know what you think and if I’ve offended anyone.

You’ve probably seen the artwork somewhere before — on a wall behind a bar in a back country tavern or in someone’s tacky pool room. It’s the famous series of works by Cassius Marcellus Coolidge, “Dogs Playing Poker.” He began creating the series in 1894, showing anthropomorphized dogs around a table playing poker, smoking cigars, cheating at cards and generally having a good woof of a time. Sixteen of the 18 paintings were commissioned by Brown and Bigelow to promote cigars they distributed around the turn of the century. One art critic described the work as being  “indelibly burned into … the American collective schlock subconscious…”

Here’s a link to a Wikipedia site which gives additional information:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dogs_Playing_Poker

I mention this because our dog Chester, a not-quite three-year-old rambunctious Golden Doodle, has the most elastic face and transparent mannerisms I’ve ever seen on a dog. His eyes constantly roll around when he’s pondering something and his John L. Lewis* eyebrows constantly twitch as he ponders. He peeks around corners in hopes of not revealing himself or his intention, smiles (yes, big toothy smiles) when he’s deliriously happy and leaps higher than my head when he knows one of his favorite admirers is about to give him a treat. Chester would simply bust up any chance of winning a poker hand because of his give-away looks. I’m attaching some examples, with what I think he may be revealing to others at the dog poker table.

*John L. Lewis was a famous labor leader from the early to mid 1900s, noted for his over-the-top bushy eyebrows and his unflinching command of the United Mine Workers of America.

Good news!!! Lindsay, our daughter, tested negative for the COVID-19 virus, as her husband Tedd, had done the day before. Hannah has been symptom free since Saturday (except for the erroneously low blood oxygen level reading due to her application of glittery fingernail polish.)

The family should be able to return to “normal” activities today. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. Take this seriously, and wear a mask. We’re not out of the woods yet.

Earlier this year, police in Las Cruces spotted a vehicle inching along a city street as it emitted an ear-splitting scraping noise. Upon closer investigation, the police discovered that the vehicle had only three tires and the fourth corner of the car was propped up only with a steel rim, gouging the pavement as it lurched along.

Police tried to give chase, but the car’s driver ignored the siren and lights and the vehicle eventually wobbled into the parking lot of a Wal-Mart. When the officers coaxed the man out of the tilting vehicle, it was clear he was inebriated. At one point, he tried to take a swing at an officer, but lost his balance and fell down. He was promptly arrested.

But it begs the question of whether he was intentionally heading to Wal-Mart to pick out a new tire to fit his now-mangled wheel.

Things are looking up for Hannah. She has gone 48 hours without any symptoms of COVID-19 — temperature normal, blood oxygen normal, no coughs, aches, etc. Her parents and Hayes are getting tested this week for the virus. If everything is okay, they will be back to normal — whatever that is these days — by Friday.

For those of you who are inclined to think “see, it was no big deal, no worse than the ‘common cold,'” please consider these points. Her parents (and grandparents) have been under incredible stress and anxiety for the last week. They had to take even more extreme measures to isolate themselves. They are still not absolutely sure she is out of the woods. And we still don’t know for certain what kinds of long-range effects this virus may have on anyone. Others in the household may still become infected. For those of you who are focused on financial issues, consider how much time and cost this one case has placed on the medical system. Then multiply it by more than 6.8 million cases so far in the United States alone. So please, take this seriously and wear a mask until we get through this.

Now on a funny note last Saturday, Hannah’s blood oxygen level had fallen below what medical experts say is normal. At home, they had been measuring the blood oxygen level with a finger clip-on monitor. Earlier that day, Hannah had decided it was time to paint her fingernails with a sparkly fingernail polish — most likely pink or purple, knowing her preferences. They took her to the doctor and used a more professional instrument to measure her blood oxygen level and found that everything was fine. I mentioned the story to our physician friend who lives across the street, and he laughed, saying it was a “classic” case of fingernail polish, particularly of the sparkly variety, interfering with the reading. “It happens all the time,” he chuckled.

Hannah’s mother says her temperature, which was as high as 105 at one time, continues to move up and down. The peaks have not been as high, as we understand it, so we’re hoping it points to continued improvement. This morning she wanted to eat “Cheerios with sprinkles,” which her mom said was “something that helps.” Mostly, she is tired of being sick and quarantined in her room. In the meantime, her mother, father and brother are also on lockdown as they wait to see if the virus has spread any further. We continue to remain optimistic about her recovery. Thanks to all of you for your kind thoughts and prayers.

We received incredibly disheartening news this morning from our tearful daughter who announced that our beautiful five-year-old granddaughter, Hannah, has been infected with the COVID-19 virus. We feel confident she will recover, but I do ask for your prayers for her.

For now, I’m going to try to limit my anger at the leadership in the country that might have prevented this from happening had we been told the truth much earlier about this virus. And I’m going to ask you all to wear a mask, which science continues to say is the best way to prevent the continued spread of COVID-19.

Again, your prayers for Hannah would be incredibly meaningful to all of us.

I looked in my “Why I Love New Mexico” file from five years ago to find this story out of Clovis.

A completely naked man was found standing in the middle of a busy Clovis street, ranting about the state of the world. A policeman with his body camera on stopped his cruiser and stepped out to try to persuade the man to move out of the street. The naked man seized the opportunity and jumped into the still idling police cruiser and streaked (yes, pun intended) off in the vehicle, leaving the dumbfounded policeman and body camera watching the car fade into the distance. The man eventually showed up at a local hospital where, hopefully, they put a gown on him that at least covered his frontal region.

I’m not sure what eventually happened to either the “streaker” or the police officer, but I can speculate. I’m sure the streaker was charged with resisting an officer, stealing a police vehicle and impersonating an officer without wearing a proper uniform (if there is such a crime). The officer, no doubt, was admonished for leaving his vehicle unattended but maybe given a medal for his role in removing a public eyesore.