Tatum, NM

I have a neighbor tonight, a man by the improbable name of T.A. Knight. Maybe he’s a rock star or a superhero disguised as an 80-year-old widower with a small dog named Poe. He’s traveling in a dually pick-up truck with a good-sized fifth wheel in tow. When we compared our traveler pedigrees he came out on top by roughly 18 years and 10 months, oh well.

He arrived at the Randolph Rampy City Park a few minutes after me and the welcome committee arrived a few minutes after that. She drove a white Crown Victoria that (judging by the spotlight mounted adjacent to the windshield) had served time as a police car.

She said “Welcome to Tatum” in a slightly formal and practiced way and asked where we were from. After feigning interest she got on to the real reason for her stopping.

“There’s a dance tonight and you are invited, it’s at the middle school and it’s just four dollars to get in and we have a live country and western band and oh my, you should hear them, they are so good, the doors open at 6 and the dance starts at 7.”

I was amazed that a women of her advanced age and with a handicapped tag hanging from her mirror could produce such a stream of words with nary a pause for breath. I quickly realized she was waiting for some sort of commitment on my and T.A.’s part.

Well, I said, I’m gonna make some dinner and see how I feel. Where’s the school at?

She told us (as if one actually needs directions in a town of this size) and my neighbor thanked her for the invitation and off she went. T.A. and I chatted a few minutes longer and he mentioned that he was planning on early to bed and early to rise in order to avoid driving into a predicted strong wind.

By now the sun had set and while I hadn’t decided whether or not I would attend the dance, I figured I should get cleaned up in case the fancy struck me. Getting cleaned up is no easy feat in a city park where the bathroom is locked and the temperature took a dive when the sun did. I snuck over to the most private side of the beast and conducted a bucket bath. This involves a tub of hot soapy water, a thermos full of more hot water, several minutes of partial (yet substantial) undress, and the ability to maintain muscle control during the onset of hypothermia.

Next I warmed myself around a propane stove with a mouthful of prevention (prevention is this wonderful brown liquid that comes from Scotland). When the time came I hunted down the school and mentally prepared myself for whatever may come. It was then that I saw through the windows that not a single attendee of the dance appeared to be a day less than a hundred and forty years old. After about 17 seconds of thought I decided that I should probably get to bed early too.