Goodbye to Santa Fe

This portrait of my daughter and me is entitled Dynasty:

daddydaughterthronetime

You can do this when you live in Santa Fe. The iron throne was at the 200-year-old mall down the street from my favorite bar, near where I work. George R.R. Martin owns a movie theater in the neighborhood. (The Jean Cocteau. I love that theater. I will always remember watching Memento there with my dad in 2000.)

Martin was my neighbor. A few days before my family moved to Mexico, I saw him walking to the park. His Song of Ice and Fire books will always be bigger and better than the Game of Thrones TV show. If you are writing about the show on the internet without reading the source material, then you are an incurious hack and an anti-expert. The story is all gods.

Santa Fe, to me, is mind-blowing artwork, an annual January flood of evil politicians and suck-up lobbyists, breakfast burritos at El Chile Torreado, insanely good beer, the Cathedral, The Plaza, George R.R. Martin, and this blog.

This is my last post. There may a Flip Side in San Pancho in the future, but I have other things I want to write right now. It’s been fun, and thanks to everyone who’s been reading. Counting hits got addictive.

I miss Santa Fe, but we wanted to move.

Good luck Mr. Martin. And thank you for signing my shirt. I wear it often.

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