More from Terry Wilson’s writing class below!
Obsession – Craig’s List
The other day my buddy Duane asked if I had joined the 12 step Craig’s list program yet. I said,” I’m not a Craigaholic, I just buy too much stuff”. Whatever, anyhow, as I tell my friends all the time, it’s not Craig’s List, it’s God’s List. Every time I need something it is right there, even though I did not know I needed it till I saw it and bought it. Then it all makes sense. Glad God is looking out for bargains for me; it’s amazing. Almost as much as the cool badly needed stuff I get it’s the people I come in contact with that keep me addicted. They are people that I was supposed to meet, only briefly. It is profound.
My Living room
I treasure the quality, fine, soft, horse dung brown leather couch and recliner with matching coffee and end tables from the melancholy woman off San Eldafanzo Road moving to their dream retirement home in Pagosa Springs. She was so sad to be leaving the hill and home she was accustomed too for decades. The dream home was already furnished. So her furniture replaced my old cloth set with the obnoxious southwestern pattern that was donated to Habitat for Humanity because Good Will won’t do pickups any longer. That stuff by far was the biggest bitch to move of anything I’ve gotten on God’s List. My TV and cable receiver sit on a stand from Eldorado, formerly owned by an artist who airbrushes murals on room walls while in the nude. The behemoth 15 x 12 hand dyed and woven Pakistan rug that looks as if it was made for my living room did not come close to fitting in the retired school teacher’s new condo she bought to be near her son. The stainless steel and copper swirling abstract wall piece caught my eye and my new house called for that visit to Barry Js Santa Fe funk factory that was littered with buddies in town for skiing crashed on every bed and couch, ended up coming along with two incredible outside stainless steel silhouette pieces, a large breasted naked woman and the torso of a male body builder, a 7 foot wrought iron abstract THING he said was an owl, two top quality unused glass exterior doors he needed to toss that are now entrances to my studio, and an old telescope, all because Barry J’s Mama had sold the house in the hills above the plaza and he was moving back to TX I cherish them all.
Every week I thank the tattooed hippie trustafarian in her early 60s from the north end, who was moving with her partner to Canada, for the wonkin tonkin deluxe Weber natural gas grill she practically gave to me. Never mind I had to pay $800 to get the gas line installed; it will last forever and came with BBQ utensils and a split leaf philodendron.
Literally the day before moving my old ugly outdated “80s” style king size bedroom set from the second floor master in my house in Chama, the exquisitely hand carved Mexican southwestern bedroom set, king mattress and all, came to me from Joan, who was renting her off the grid, collect rain water and bird shit from your roof, rattle your car to death on the dead end road, house up against the cliffs with endless views in Pecos, who needed to dump the set fast. She was really groovy, really, and the next weekend hired my buddies to move the rest of her stuff into her new place in town next to the animal shelter she worked at. She thanked me over and over for taking the time, and later called me to discuss the ins and outs of rental property ownership with her, I have 6 so she thinks I’m an expert.
A mentally and physically challenged, much less fortunate man than myself, now daily plays a piano in his living room for free thanks to God’s List calling me and I said I’ll take it. He has played since a child and it is in his own words his “most cherished possession”, it was a mother to move.
This is the holy grail of Craig’s list for this junky, at least so far. It’s all about transportation. I have always wanted to ride a recumbent and God’s list listened. I just took my 7th journey on the thing and I am as of yet unscarred, but time will tell. A woman recently retired from Los Alamos lab had lovingly let it sit in her garage and collect dust for a decade and gave it to me for a quarter of what she was possessed to pay for it originally. She was now going to try mountain biking. Its candy apple red, super long, has 20-inch wheels and sissy bars and is called a Tailwind. It is easy for me now to understand why you don’t see more of these things on the road; they are a bitch to ride to put it nicely. They are heavy, very unstable, and in general, dangerous. I love it, though a challenge God’s list granted me. I have ridden it up Cumbres Pass and blown my quads up; I have ridden it down Cumbres Pass and scared the livin shit out of myself at 42 mph. I have ridden it here and there and plan on riding it everywhere eventually. For the last 15 years I have ridden tandems on and off, mainly off, since it’s hard to convince anyone to ride with you. Men are homophobic about them and woman just aren’t interested, but thank God’s List for the black 1994 Burley, hand built in Eugene, Oregon, I now have leaning against a wall in my garage. Chuck got it after the 2000 world cup from his son, an ex-Navy Seal and bike racer, so it’s blinged out and built for the long haul. Chuck and his wife did the Santa Fe Century on it a couple times, in days gone by. It is a magnificent steed just waiting to be saddled; I am currently looking for a Stoker (rear passenger) on God’s list to fire it up. Lastly there is “Loydd” my 2000 Mercedes Benz C280; he is silver, solid, and sturdy, very different from the 91 year old Loydd I bought him from, who last drove the car into the side of his garage in 2011. I have fixed the bumper and enjoy driving him immensely usually with one of my many bikes on the back and deafening loud classical music blasting from the Boise stereo out through the sunroom – life is good.
Other gifts from God’s List
There is so much more: the lattice arches from Larry the drunk remodeler who was full, so full of advice, the free office set from the grandparents raising their granddaughter, the Nordic Track from the out of shape guy who hustled me away before his wife found out he was selling it, the patio set from the realtor who sold the house of an old couple who had moved to Florida, just next door to Loydd’s place, and told me I was a nice man, the wrought iron gate that keeps my big dog out of the Zen Sauna garden, the patio fire pit with animal cutouts that came with the best hug from the hippy chick in Tesuque, and the mixed pinon and juniper fire wood from the no-speaka-english guy that will keep the kiva going all winter – thank God.