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Catron County author Uncle River's alternate universes

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Casa de la Cultura President Mar’a Eugenia Trillo

Another Side of the Story
Remembering a slain family, 50 years after the In Cold Blood murders

Hiking How-To
Here's how Jerry packs and prepares for Apacheria outings

Rabbit Moon
What did the ancient Mimbres people see in the moon?

Fellow Travelers
November brings flocks of migrating Sandhill Cranes to New Mexico

Underground Silver City
2009 Writing Contest Winner

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Apache Homeland Cafe's Last Chance?
The Robots are Coming
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About the cover

  D e s e r t   E x p o s u r e   November 2009


Gender Wars, Crazy Talk and Medical Miracles

Plus tips for handling telemarketers and drinking don'ts.

Losing the battle of the sexes. . . The war between men and women rages on, with this volley from Old Grumps:

"On their wedding night, the young bride approached her new husband and asked for $20 for their first lovemaking encounter. In his excited state, her husband readily agreed. This scenario was repeated each time they made love, for more than 30 years, with him thinking that it was a cute way for her to afford new clothes and other incidentals that she needed.

"Arriving home around noon one day, she was surprised to find her husband in a very drunken state. He explained that his employer was going through a process of corporate downsizing, and he had been let go. It was unlikely that, at the age of 59, he'd be able to find another position that paid anywhere near what he'd been earning, and therefore, they were financially ruined.

"Calmly, his wife handed him a bank book that showed more than 30 years of steady deposits and interest totaling nearly $1 million. Then she showed him certificates of deposit worth over $2 million, and informed him that they were one of the largest depositors in the bank. The wife explained that for the more than three decades she had 'charged' him for sex, these holdings had multiplied. And these were the results of her savings and investments.

"Faced with evidence of cash and investments worth over $3 million, her husband was so astounded he could barely speak, but finally he found his voice and blurted out, 'If I'd had any idea what you were doing with the money, I would have given you all my business!'

"That's when she shot him.

"You know, sometimes men just don't know when to keep their mouths shut."

In the interest of equal time, of a sort, we follow with this short but not exactly sweet tale, courtesy of CharlesC:

"An old man is standing silently by the grave of his wife at the end of her funeral. The pastor is silently waiting to assist him if necessary. A huge dark cloud forms in the sky, a bolt of lightning hits a nearby tree, and thunder shakes the ground. The old man says, 'Well she made it there OK.'"

The do-not-call list. . . Next time the phone rings with some sales pitch, try these ideas from Tigger of Oz for dealing with telemarketers:

"If they want to loan you money, tell them you just filed for bankruptcy and you could sure use some money.

"If they start out with, 'How are you today?,' say, 'I'm so glad you asked, because no one these days seems to care, and I have all these problems. My arthritis is acting up, my eyelashes are sore, my dog just died. . .'

"If they say they're John Doe from XYZ Company, ask them to spell their name. Then ask them to spell the company name. Then ask them where it is located, how long it has been in business, how many people work there, how they got into this line of work, if they are married, how many kids they have, etc. Continue asking them personal questions or questions about their company for as long as necessary.

"This works great if you are male. Telemarketer: 'Hi, my name is Judy and I'm with XYZ Company.' Wait for a second and then, with a real husky voice, you ask, 'What are you wearing?'

"Cry out in surprise, 'Judy? Is that you? Oh my God! Judy, how have you been?' Hopefully, this will give Judy a few brief moments of terror as she tries to figure out where she could know you from.

"Say 'no' over and over. Be sure to vary the sound of each one, and keep a rhythmic tempo, even as the telemarketer is trying to speak. This is most fun if you can do it until he hangs up.

"If a phone company calls trying to get you to sign up for the Family and Friends Plan, reply, in as sinister a voice as you can, 'I don't have any friends. Would you be my friend?'

"If the company cleans rugs, respond: 'Can you get out blood? Can you get out goat blood? How about human blood?'

"After the telemarketer gives his spiel, ask him to marry you. Tell him that you can't just give your credit card number to a complete stranger.

"Tell the telemarketer that you work for the same company, and they can't sell to employees."

Annals of medicine. . . This thought-provoking anecdote comes our way courtesy of Ed of Mesilla Park, who writes:

"While sitting in the doctor's waiting room, I had the urge to empty my bladder. Upon leaving, I saw a sign on the exit door that read, 'Patients and staff will wash their hands before returning to work or waiting room.'

"Awhile later, I saw the doctor. I told him that I had taken a shower that morning and put on clean underwear. On the way to the doctor's office, I used the telephone, got the car keys, opened the house door, the garage door, the car door, started the car, shifted it. 'Arriving at your office, I opened the door, signed in (your pen), picked up a well-used magazine and opened the visiting-room door. My penis is far cleaner than all the things before I touched it! Your sign should read, "Wash your hands BEFORE using the restroom."'

"He allowed that this was probably true. Later I heard him tell the entire office staff my suggestion."

Send us your own pearls of wisdom, anecdotes and yarns, true or otherwise: diary@desertexposure.com, fax 534-4134 or PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062.

Annals of inebriation. . . Writing all the way from Fountain Hills, Ariz., RobertH returns with this tale that just happens to be about an Irishman. Please do not draw any conclusions, inferred or implied, about the drinking habits of Irishmen from this isolated incident:

"Flynn staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Mary. He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step. As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.

"Managing not to yell, Flynn sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding. He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood. He then hid the now-almost-empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.

"In the morning, Flynn woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and Mary staring at him from across the room. She said, 'You were drunk again last night weren't you?'

"Flynn said, "Why ever would you say such a mean thing?'

"'Well,' Mary replied, 'it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly — it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.'"


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