Tag: Aliens

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A Roswell Encounter of The Worst Kind


The rugged mountains and the slow-mo village of Ruidoso, New Mexico, are two of my favorite places. Momo and I try and visit a few times a year, and this year, in February, we are taking a road trip to the mountains and hopefully some snow. Momo likes communicating with the wild Deer via nose-to-nose rubs and feeding them Quaker Granola cereal. She’s quite popular with the local wildlife, and they seem to know where we are staying and what time we arrive. Word travels fast in the forest.

One stop we look forward to is the McDonald’s in Roswell, New Mexico. This isn’t a run-of-the-mill burger joint; the building is built to resemble an alien saucer inside and out and is complete with small alien statues around the exterior of the building. We love it, as do thousands of other earthly visitors who flock there to take pictures and eat an alien burger.

On the first trip we took to Ruidoso years ago, I spent eight hours talking up Roswell, the saucer crash that happened in 1947, the government cover-up, and space aliens in general. Momo was worked up and ready to meet a spaceman by the time we rolled up to the space-age McDonalds. We had a burger, checked out the local costumed weirdos that hung around the place, and then got on the road to Ruidoso. I told her to be on the lookout for aliens, since the town is lousy with them. I had never seen her so excited and hopeful. She put on her tin-foil hat, got her iPhone camera ready, and was looking for a close encounter of any kind. A block or two from the McDonalds, she had a conniption fit and almost jumped from our moving car. Walking down the sidewalk with two larger human units was a small alien in a red suit and silver shoes. We pulled over, and she jumped out and started taking its picture. The parents of the big-headed little boy in a Spider-Man jammies didn’t take kindly to a crazy woman with a tin-foil hat taking pictures of them. I felt sort of bad, but not too bad. She still believes.

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The Cactus Patch Has Had Enough Of Texas…For A While


Hitch up the wagons, load the party bus, and roll em out…

I’m kidding of sorts, we don’t own a wagon or a bus anymore, but the Honda CRV is a good substitute, and it has air conditioning and practically drives itself. It’s been over a hundred degrees here for a month. I’m not talking about a mere pansy-assed 100 degrees; we’re talking real temperatures, like, 105-110, and that’s without a heat index thrown in that makes it feel like a visit to Hell On Wheels Texas in Satan’s un-airconditioned tour bus. MoMo and I are escaping and going to Ruidoso, New Mexico, this week. The land of enchantment, cool air, majestic mountains, and high rental rates. Hoping to see Deer, Elk, Bear, and Aliens if we stop in Roswell. Since the pot is legal in New Mexico, and Ruidoso has a large collection of cute little shops selling the evil weed, we will likely see many old hippie-type folks stumbling around town or cleaning out the Hostess cupcake aisle at “The Walmart.” The last time we were there, MoMo purchased some gummies made in the shape of Willi Nelson’s head, and they messed up my head badly. They were supposed to relax you and let you sleep like a baby.. naturally. At least that’s what the cute little Pot-a-rista told us. All I heard for two days was ” On The Road Again” and “Red-Headed Stranger,” and that was in my head, no music playing. I’m taking ample Irish Whiskey this time. At least if I stumble and fall from the whiskey, I won’t think it’s a revelation or a sign from above and say, “Wow, that was far-out; let’s do it again.”

Aliens eating Egg-A-Muffins and happy meals…

On the last trip to Ruidoso, we stopped in Roswell, New Mexico, UFO, and Alien Central. Having breakfast in the local Mcdonald’s downtown, a short walk to the Alien Museum, was a treat. The place’s interior is all UFO design with a play area shaped like a saucer. There was no shortage of strange people in the place. One homeless alien was taking a sink bath in the men’s restroom, and another ratty alien was begging for money in the parking lot. As we left, MoMo got excited because she spotted a little alien walking with some Earth Pod People. We stopped to gawk and realized It was a five-year-old big-headed kid in spider man pajamas walking with his parental units. She was bummed out. I told her not to worry keep believing because they will be here soon. Turns out, they are here and have been for quite a while now. She’s scared.

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“The Truth Is Out There; We Are Not Alone. See… I Told You So!”


Bugs and Marvin The Martian, courtesy of Mel Blanc

Since childhood, I knew we were not alone in this universe. A steady diet of space movies on channel 11 made a believer out of me. “The Forbidden Planet” with the robot and that hubba-hubba Ann Francis chick, and “Invaders From Mars,” where kidnapped folks had a red glowing jewel drilled into their neck, became zombies, and were sucked into the Martian cave via sand dunes. Those are the two that gave me screaming assed nightmares but piqued my still-forming juvenile imagination into what it is today. Certain that I saw a UFO over the Gulf of Mexico when I was eight years old, a run-in with small grey alien beings when I was abducted from my warm bed, taken aboard a mother ship, and implanted with a device that tracked my life and gave me superior mental powers over my childhood friends. I was hooked like a crappie on a purple people eater jigamajig spinner.

Now, all of these decades later, our slippery when-wet government confirms that the spaceships and little green men are real, and we have many of these crafts in our possession. I am relieved to know my beliefs were correct. The next time I drive through Roswell, New Mexico, which will be next month on our way to Ruidoso for some mountain air and horse racing, I will feel relieved that I was right all along. May the force be with you, and all that goes with it.