Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
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My mother was the epitome of rough, tough Nebraska stinginess, but she always made a special trip to Denver just before Christmas to show me the holiday decorations. On these trips she also bought pigs’ feet. Besides being cheap, they provided hours of winter fun for the family as we searched for meat. Of the two experiences, holiday commercial finery was more important than pig’s feet, because Denver at Christmas was a bustling, magical city — Baghdad on the Platte — with elaborate displays in the windows of all downtown sto... Full story
Bob Huber: Local Columnist When I was a kid, warnings that I’d better-be-good around Christmas wore me out. At the time I was in the clutches of mid-youth crisis, often waking in the middle of the night thinking, “Being good just doesn’t feel right! I gotta do something ... ROTTEN! That’s when I turned to my guttersnipe friends, most of whom were diagnosed with DLD (Dangerous Levels of Distaste) and told them, “Santa Claus or no Santa Claus, we gotta find something evil to do.” But the next day when I stopped by a friend’s... Full story
Bob Huber: Local Columnist Dad always used holidays and birthday celebrations as an excuse to climb into his cups. One time I even heard him give a toast, “Here’s to the groundhog, God bless him.” Hardly a 24-hour period went by without Dad recognizing some festivity or other. Dad favored that condition until one winter’s night when he slipped on ice on the WPA Bridge spanning Clear Creek in my hometown and flipped over the handrail. What followed was an execution of unique aerial pirouettes and profanities until he landed...
Bob Huber: Local Columnist Dad always used holidays and birthday celebrations as an excuse to climb into his cups. One time I even heard him give a toast, “Here’s to the groundhog, God bless him.” Hardly a 24-hour period went by without Dad recognizing some festivity or other. Dad favored that condition until one winter’s night when he slipped on ice on the WPA Bridge spanning Clear Creek in my hometown and flipped over the handrail. What followed was an execution of unique aerial pirouettes and profanities until he landed...
Bob Huber : Local Columnist Now comes Christmas with its roasted chestnuts and guys begging change for charity in front of Wal-Mart stores, all of which makes me watch my language. I learned that yuletide lesson as a youngster when my mother utilized her Nebraska wit by saying, “If you can‘t talk clean during the holidays, keep your mouth shut.” My wife Marilyn also hovered over me, hoping I wouldn’t make serious social blunders and get us erased off everyone’s holiday party list. Even my daughters, when they were kids, adm...
Bob Huber: Humor Columnist Now comes Christmas with its roasted chestnuts and guys begging change for charity in front of Wal-Mart stores, all of which makes me watch my language. I learned that yuletide lesson as a youngster when my mother utilized her Nebraska wit by saying, “If you can‘t talk clean during the holidays, keep your mouth shut.” My wife Marilyn also hovered over me, hoping I wouldn’t make serious social blunders and get us erased off everyone’s holiday party list. Even my daughters, when they were kids, admoni... Full story
Bob Huber: CNJ columnist The fun-filled holiday season begins this week unless you’re a Scrooge who would rather dump a jar of molasses in the Salvation Army kettle outside Wal-Mart. You probably developed that attitude because you didn’t get a Red Ryder BB gun for Christmas when you were a kid or a Shirley Temple doll which you richly deserved. So if you’re of that twisted state of mind, I’ll see the cause of your conduct and raise you a gripping Christmas tale that took place when I was playing me a waiting game as a repor...
Bob Huber: Local Columnist If you’re a distinguished UFO-ologist emeritus like I am, you know that New Mexico holds the record for the most ballyhooed assaults from outer space. In fact, the coveted Black Hole Cup has been won by so many communities in this state that Rush Limbaugh has labeled them prime examples of liberal conspiracies.ole Cu What’s more, some senior citizens in Clovis continue to this day to boast about alleged sightings of “Clovis Lights,” a spatial incident dating back 50 years when patterns of bright...
Bob Huber: Local Columnist If you’re a distinguished UFO-ologist emeritus like I am, you know that New Mexico holds the record for the most ballyhooed assaults from outer space. In fact, the coveted Black Hole Cup has been won by so many communities in this state that Rush Limbaugh has labeled them prime examples of liberal conspiracies. What’s more, some senior citizens in Clovis continue to this day to boast about alleged sightings of “Clovis Lights,” a spatial incident dating back 50 years when patterns of bright red chi...
Bob Huber: Local Columnist Now comes that time of year when everyone gives thanks for bountiful gifts — unless you’re a turkey! Speaking of which, I’ve hobnobbed with turkeys all my life, some of whom made it through grammar school and even became college professors, but that’s another story. My most memorable association with real holiday turkeys involved a couple thousand live birds of my father’s choosing. They transformed an otherwise placid November into what our family called “The Mad Month of the Gobblers....
Bob Huber: Local Columnist Now comes that time of year when everyone gives thanks for bountiful gifts — unless you’re a turkey! Speaking of which, I’ve hobnobbed with turkeys all my life, some of whom made it through grammar school and even became college professors, but that’s another story. My most memorable association with real holiday turkeys involved a couple thousand live birds of my father’s choosing. They transformed an otherwise placid November into what our family called “The Mad Month of the Gobblers....
Bob Huber: Local Columnist So there I was, crying myself to sleep last week with a lingering summer flu, when I decided in my delirium to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning drama. I searched for a deep, scholarly theme that would incorporate today’s most nagging social problems, and finally settled on three issues: love, war, and daylight savings time. Naturally I trimmed the fat by excluding love and war. I wasn’t planning to sell the drama to Disney anyway. Besides, I remembered what my wife, Marilyn, always said about the bat... Full story
Bob Huber: Local Columnist So there I was, crying myself to sleep last week with a lingering summer flu, when I decided in my delirium to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning drama. I searched for a deep, scholarly theme that would incorporate today’s most nagging social problems, and finally settled on three issues: love, war, and daylight savings time. Naturally I trimmed the fat by excluding love and war. I wasn’t planning to sell the drama to Disney anyway. Besides, I remembered what my wife Marilyn always said about the bat... Full story
Bob Huber: Local Columnist When I was a kid, Halloween was the high-water mark on the calendar of my life. Oh sure, I fiddled with Christmas to please parents, but Halloween allowed me to shake down neighbors, tip over outhouses, and remain anonymous. Oh, it was a wonderful time. Costumes were no big problem. They were made from feed sacks, worn sheets, and old shirts. Ghosts and witches were the most popular disguises. Once the metamorphosis was complete, parents couldn’t pick their own kids out of a lineup. Madcap a...
Bob Huber: Local Columnist When I was a kid, Halloween was the high-water mark on the calendar of my life. Oh sure, I fiddled with Christmas to please parents, but Halloween allowed me to shake down neighbors, tip over outhouses, and remain anonymous. Costumes were no big problem. They were made from feed sacks, worn sheets, and old shirts. Once the metamorphosis was complete, parents couldn’t pick their own kids out of a lineup. Madcap adventures took place on Halloween night, such as older guys mugging you for your loot a... Full story
Bob Huber: Local Columnist Our son Glen brought home a baby raven one day, and we named it Weird Harold. Glen claimed it had fallen from its nest on a ledge of the Federal Building in Santa Fe, and it was his notion to teach the bird to talk dirty by Halloween so he could dress up as Blackbeard, with a talking bird on his shoulder. However, Weird Harold wasn’t interested in developing a dirty vocabulary. In fact, all he wanted to do was grow to the size of a big rooster in less than a month, the result of a daily diet of r... Full story
Bob Huber: Local Columist Our son Glen brought home a baby raven one day, and we named it Weird Harold. Glen claimed it had fallen from its nest on a ledge of the Federal Building in Santa Fe, and it was his notion to teach the bird to talk dirty by Halloween so he could dress up as Blackbeard, with a talking bird on his shoulder. However, Weird Harold wasn’t interested in developing a dirty vocabulary. In fact, all he wanted to do was grow to the size of a big rooster in less than a month, the result of a daily diet of raw h... Full story
You haven’t reached life’s high-water mark until your grandkids ask, “What’s the difference between Republicans and Democrats?” The upshot is, if you’re smart, you’ll devise a basic list of replies designed to be understood by children. Take my personal favorite, the “Two Cows Response.” Here’s a sampler. It begins with, “If you are a ...” DEMOCRAT — You have two cows, but your neighbor has none. Devise a program where your neighbor gets money to buy a cow but has to pay higher taxes. REPUBLICAN — You have two cows, but your...
Bob Huber: Humor Columnist Let’s take a look at Sasquatch in New Mexico, because October is Halloween Month — a 30-day celebration commemorating the grand opening of the first Wal-Mart Scary Costume and Candy Store, a time when traditional gangs of masked dwarves roam the streets, extorting candy from their neighbors. And that’s just the tip of the frightberg. Ghostly sounds can be heard, such as owls hooting, bones rattling, trees swaying and slurping water like vampires, and spine-rattling straight pipes booming in the n... Full story
Bob Huber: Local Columnist Let’s take a look at Sasquatch in New Mexico, because October is Halloween Month. And that’s just the tip of the frightberg. Ghostly sounds can be heard, such as owls hooting, bones rattling, trees swaying and slurping water like vampires. To make matters worse, whenever Halloween rears it monstrous head, up pops vivid memories of — BIG FOOT! We once lived in the Santa Fe boonies next door to a hog farm where all of these sounds were common. That’s why I still get anxious when October comes to town...
Bob Huber: Local Columnist In these troubled times when we’re smothered by hurricanes, terrorists, tattoos, and bad football seasons, it’s time to probe an even greater baffling question, one that has tormented mankind for thousands of years — “What does a woman want in a man?” I have some answers, because I spent 51 years researching that puzzle, but I’ve come to the conclusion that 15 minutes on the Internet is easier. Here’s what I found: WHAT EVERY WOMAN (AGE 20) WANTS IN A MAN • Handsome and charming. • A caring list...
Bob Huber: Local columnist In these troubled times when we’re smothered by hurricanes, terrorists, tattoos, and bad football seasons, it’s time to probe an even greater baffling question, one that has tormented mankind for thousands of years — “What does a woman want in a man?” I have some answers, because I spent 51 years researching that puzzle, but I’ve come to the conclusion that 15 minutes on the Internet is easier. Here’s what I found: What every woman (age 20) wants in a man • Handsome and charming. • A caring list... Full story
Bob Huber: Humor Columnist I was rocking my chair last week when it dawned on me that I might be over the hill — a hair-raising experience for someone as young and vibrant as I am. So I called my daughters to confirm my youthful status: “What brought this on?” they asked. “Well, things are different nowadays,” I said. “Me and my teeth don’t sleep together anymore, and when I tried to straighten out the wrinkles in my socks, I discovered I wasn’t wearing any. Then in the bathroom mirror I looked just like the guy on my driver... Full story
Bob Huber: Humor Columnist I was rocking my chair last week when it dawned on me that I might be over the hill — a hair-raising experience for someone as young and vibrant as I am. So I called my daughters to confirm my youthful status: “What brought this on?” they asked. “Well, things are different nowadays,” I said. “Me and my teeth don’t sleep together anymore, and when I tried to straighten out the wrinkles in my socks, I discovered I wasn’t wearing any. Then in the bathroom mirror I looked just like the guy on my driver...
I had an uncle, a farmer hounded by failure. When I was a kid in high top shoes and bib overalls, he tried to buy a one-way ticket to that Great Cornfield in the Sky and, true to form, failed. It was Great Depression time and Uncle Claude’s luck was more disheartening than a Republican running for office. He was thousands in debt, drank too much, and his wife Buela was pregnant. To avoid the bottomless pit that was his life, he decided to die and make it look like an accident for his family to collect double indemnity on h... Full story
