If your good jeans are the ones you wear to church, funerals or the Santa Fe Opera, you must be a New Mexican.
If linguists, anthropologists and historians appear at the door to visit with grandpa or grandma, you must be a New Mexican.
If you've ever voted for a politician named Jack Daniels, Johnnie Walker or Jose Cuervo, you're definitely a New Mexican.
If your mama said you'd never find a husband if you didn't learn to make tortillas, you could be a New Mexican.
If you live near any alien landing sites, you might be a New Mexican. But then again, maybe you're just passing as a New Mexican.
If you wear shorts all year long, even when it's cold, you could be a New Mexican.
If your yard art is a bathtub shrine, a wagon wheel, a mine car, farm implements or a pump, you might be a New Mexican. If it's a chainsaw bear, you must live in Ruidoso.
If you don't own a tie, or the one tie you own is parked on a door knob in the office — in case of surprise visits by the boss; you might be a New Mexican.
If you think the only proper neckwear is a bolo tie, you're a New Mexican.
If you're female and you can back up a truck with a horse trailer hitched up, if you can drive a tractor or a backhoe, you must be a New Mexican.
If you can do all that with perfect hair and makeup, you live on the East Side.
If you've had to take out a second mortgage to finance your daughter's quinceanera, you might be a New Mexican.
If you think duct tape is for dummies because you actually know how to fix things, you might be a New Mexican.
If you've ever competed in a lizard race, a duck race or a cow chip throwing contest, you might be a New Mexican.
If your bank account is hanging around your neck in turquoise jewelry, if the only jewelry you own is turquoise, you could be a New Mexican.
If you've ever spent $40 to send $10 worth of chile and pinto beans to a loved one overseas, you must be a New Mexican.
If you don't know anybody named Bubba but lots of guys named Chuey, you might be a New Mexican.
If you like to see horizons and find thick stands of trees claustrophobic, you might be a New Mexican.
If your landscaping includes a toilet planter or two, you must live in Socorro.
If you've ever incorporated bed springs, pallets, lumber yard slash or corrugated steel into a fence, you must be a New Mexican.
If you have four cars in the driveway, and at least one is driveable, you must be a New Mexican.
If you use a drill bit for a door stop, you must live in Hobbs. Or Farmington.
If your ancestors have been here for 200 years and your neighbors still think you're a newcomer, you must be a New Mexican.
If you can stand in the checkout line at the grocery store and hear at least three languages, you might be a New Mexican. If you can hear four languages, you must live in Gallup.
If you throw a casual family gathering and 45 people show up, and most of them live within a few miles, you must be a New Mexican.
If your lawn furniture includes a cable spool or car seats, you could be a New Mexican.
If you've made a tumbleweed snowman or decorated the cholla and cactus in your yard, you could be a New Mexican.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
1 comment:
Spam and rudeness will not be tolerated. We're here to have a few grins, and if you can't abide, move along. Did I mention Spam? Because if I didn't, here it is. NO SPAM!! That includes saying you like our blog and it's thought-provoking (which we know is a lie) and here's a link to your blog. Basically, if you link post a link to a for-profit site without the express written consent of me or the Big Vance-a-rino, I'll delete your comment and you'll look like an ass or I'll mock you mercilesly for being a dork.
~Peace & Love,
Rick
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I'm New Mexican! Thank God....for a second there I thought I was from Texas.
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