June 6 – I really want to visit Albuquerque again because it wasn’t a great stop for us, but I don’t believe we were there long enough to give it a true shot either. It was a one-day affair after driving in from the late-night gig in Amarillo and we were tired, like we were much of this trip.

But it also provided the first time Kirsti and I were at odds, and it offered a good parenting lesson to not jump to conclusions when something is clearly wrong.

I like to tell everybody that in 22 days, we literally angry with each other for about 30 minutes, which I’m really proud of and I think it speaks to the bond we have.

That’s when Kirsti usually pipes up and says “I’d say it was more like an hour!”

But I’ll take that too.

Out of a 528-hour trip, to be testy with each other for only one of them, I’d say, is something to marvel at. And again, a little communication could have prevented this first issue, and I learned from that.

It stemmed from our powerful visit to the “Indian Pueblo Cultural Center,” which offered us a glimpse into the lives of Native Americans in the area, past and present.

What I didn’t realize, however, is that Kirsti was carrying a leather purse that had fringe on it, in a Native American style – and she was mortified to be carrying it in this sanctuary.

She felt it was disrespectful and throughout the entire tour around the center, she was essentially clutching it under her arm hoping it wouldn’t be seen.

She was also very quiet and didn’t appear to be happy at all. 

In typical me fashion, my first reaction is basically “what the hell?” I was trying hard to make this trip as fun for her as possible, this is a place she wanted to visit, and she’s essentially being a little brat, pouting, not talking and making me angry.

We saw powerful exhibits, including one showing how a sacred Pueblo symbol was essentially stolen by the state and used as a state symbol on lots of items, including license plates.

Kirsti is a deep, compassionate young woman and I could feel her despair for the Peublo people. I didn’t know until later that her bag choice that day made it even worse. We left the center, still not really chatting, and headed for Old Town, which we had heard was packed with authentic Native American goods. We were chilly with each other, pretty silent on the way there – me, because I was angry that she seemed ungrateful and moody and her because she was still mortified about the bag – and the plight of these repressed people.

And when she got mad at me for having to walk back to the van to get my phone after parking it and walking a couple minutes, I got angrier. Like what’s the big deal?

When we got to the Old Town shopping area, we were surprised to find it more like what we’d see at home in Lake George, New York, with tacky little shops run not by the natives, but by opportunistic white entrepreneurs. We both expected something very different.

But then I saw a little walkway with some Native Americans selling items they made on blankets. I was eager to go look and maybe get some gifts for her and to bring back to her mother and sister.

But Kirsti wanted none of it.

After only probably 30-minutes at Old Town, she wanted back in the van and I was really upset.     

When I’m angry, I often shut down and stay silent. She was doing the same. But after some time, I finally learned the root of her silence – the bag. She didn’t want to go look at the goods on the blankets for fear they’d see the bag that she felt was a mocking slam to them and their heritage.

I wish she had told me.

I wish I had asked and not jumped to conclusions. I think we both learned from it, though. We ended up having a really nice dinner at the Taj Mahal Indian restaurant trying foods we’d never eaten before.

We capped the night with some soothing “Riverdale” episodes in the $60 Airbnb Kirsti found.

And we bonded over a moth-killing spree.

You see, the house had a tree out front that apparently was home to all of New Mexico’s moths. And these weren’t the little moths, these were half-dollar-sized buzzing critters that would have kept us awake!

We knew they were out there, but what we didn’t know is that there was a hole in the screen door and that apparently the moths really liked getting between the screen door and the regular door. When I went to get something from the van, they made their move and at least a dozen, hell maybe 20 or so, flooded in before I could close it.

We went on a brutal moth-swatting rampage.

Neither of us kill bugs for the sake of it. Kirsti will go out of her way to save bugs. But these things needed to go. We swatted them, piled them up on the floor to be discarded, and slunk into the couch to watch Netflix.

Oh yeah, the place advertised air conditioning. It didn’t advertise that the controls were in the attached space owned by the A/C-stingy owners.

So, like I said, I hope to do Albuquerque again someday, because it was probably too brief and I’m sure we missed countless attractions that would sway our opinion. The high point was the Pueblo Cultural Center, despite how Kirsti’s bag made her so upset.

Oh, and moths were literally flying out of the engine compartment of the van for miles down the road after we left.

Can’t make this stuff up.