January/February

So long January. See you next year!. The calender flips over tomorrow. It would be nice to see the short month go smoothly. I'm hopeful the world will be as well as possible. From on high to down low and every where in between.. may all life be good and all death be in accordance with the cycle and circle of life and may the physically departed sleep in heavenly peace ~

Auntie Agnes

Auntie Agnes died peacefully in her sleep last Monday. She was mom's last remaining sibling, mom has taken her sister's death pretty hard. Sure does get you to thinking about your own mortality, from whence you came and all that.

Auntie was a good woman, salt of the earth. When I think of her I picture her dancing with me to ranchera music, her head resting on my chest then bursting out in laughter, puro grins and giggles. She liked a good laugh. Auntie made some of the best if not the most delicious spicy ice tea I've ever had. At Christmas she gave us great knit or wool socks, scarfs, gloves or mittens, something really thoughtful, practical and fun, special and highly anticipated. There always seemed to be a picture of JFK prominently placed on one of the walls in your neat and organized home.

It's sad to think Auntie's gone but comforting to know her influence, the impact and impression she made remains. The very important people stick around, some how stay with us in our heart and soul long after the dance is done.

Rest in Peace Auntie "Nines" Agnes ~
Agnes Hammond
March 31, 1921 - December 21, 2009

Pick One

One of our favorite past times when we visited Grampa Epi & Gramma Alice up in Santa Fe was to get one of those thick catalogs from their study which was lined wall to wall with books from the classics, childrens books, books about south west history, sets of encyclopedias, dictionaries, almanacs and a host of other reference books in addition to family albums. So we'd grab a Sears, JCPenny, Montgomery Wards or Speigal, whatever looked the freshest and we would sit comfortably on the sofa with half of the catalog resting on me and half resting on you. The idea was to pick one thing you would like from each page, only one thing. We'd spend hours it seems like combing the pages, skip the clothes and have crazy fun deciding which camping equipment, ring, bike, toy, appliance, lamp, tool or musical instrument would best suit our mood & needs a jour. It was a harmless way to kill time and enjoy a few grins and giggles as we got lost in our wish lists and youthful reverie.

Another time Sophie, Marcie, Chris & Gramma Alice were playing Scrabble, sitting around a card table, Grampa was reading the paper or maybe wathcing Gun Smoke on TV. Whatever he was doing he and the Scrabble players were oblivious to the somewhat rowdy game of chase we had going on throughout the house. We'd hide from each other and then come out and basically scare the shit out of the other person. One of us got the bright idea to hide under the card table where the Scrabble board sat almost filled with the square wooden letters. I believe I came up from behind you unbeknownst to you and scared you silly. You jumped up in the air cat-like and the table flipped over, Scrabble board & wooden letters went flying all over the living room. It was not pretty and that was one of the only times I can remember Grampa getting upset with us. We were run off to our respective sleeping quarters trying to repress our laughter in the wake of the recent turn of events that ended a perfectly civilized game of Scrabble. Everyone was a little bit ahh put-off by our raucous and scrappy nincompoopy shenanigans.

Hearts & Bones ~ Fly Away & Come In for a Landing

Don't fly away-OK fly away but don't forget about me. I'll be here looking and waiting for you, wondering how your world is, how, where, who you are at any given time & space. Drop in whenever you want. Please know you are welcome here with me anytime. Want to remind you of the standing reservation you hold in my heart, head & soul... You and your love remain in that place deep inside my epicenter... that sacred, holy place in all creation where only love & peace reside. I don't mind reminding you of this periodically. Love to you, then, now & always. ~ from me

Race Car

Ideally when we played Monopoly, with regard to the board layout GO was on my right side and I liked to be the thimble or the hat. Mark was the race car. If I took care of the deeds, I liked to stack 'um up neatly in an organized manner, lining them up in order of their value on the board, in that exact order & keep all the colors together of course. The procurement of property was slow going the first round or two due to the fact that we preferred not to buy property until we passed GO again. No doubt the first warm-up round could work for or against you and could set the tone for the rest of the game. Course the roll of dice had everything to do with it. Sometime we'd buy everything we could immediatley, the railroads, utilities, the square lots with matching stripes of green, red, baby blue, orange, yellow etc., basically if you landed on it you bought it unless, it was something that took us for a ride. When Chris played, he thought it was OK to make the rules up as we went along but even with those practices in place, sometimes things did not go his way... all hell would break loose when all he could do out of frustration was flip the board over... deeds, tokens, money, hotels/houses exploded and went flying all over the place... needless to say game over.

We played for hours at a time with emotions often running high as someone gloated over their park avenue property or tempers flaired due to unsavory trips around that wildly wonderful or dull as dirt game board game not going their way, maybe good property was available but you kept landing on someone elses who had developed it with the little red houses or splendid green hotels. I enjoyed playing with people who liked to get the ball rolling and get to the gettin of monopolizing as much property, as smart and fast as you could. Drawing the chance or community chest cards could put a smile or a frown on your face. Go to jail card was a bummer but Get out of jail free was a nice ace in the hole. Rolling the dice and landing on Free Parking was fun, especially if there was a big booty accumulating in the middle of the board. There were the cocky ones with a cut throat style, out for blood and guts, it was so interesting when things started going south for that type player who procured property at any cost. It's just a game right? The players who took more of a reasonable and fair approach to the game were much more fun to play with. It was always delicious to see poetic justice done when the greedy land baron type player started having a tough go with the dice... tsk tsk, nah... if anything it was refreshing to see a haughty nature turn humble. The life size board shown here > is on a pad of concrete in a park at San Jose, Califas.

Comic Books, Combat or Red Skelton

Comics of choice included Archie, Family Circle, Marmaduke, Beetle Baily, Superman & Batman respectively. Sophie & Marcie use to read us "the funnies" from the Sunday paper like Lil Abner, Blondie of Blondie & Dagwood fame. Dennis the Menace was annoying, still is, even bugged us but was easy to take and predictable reading. I got into Snoopy & The Peanuts Gang and discovered satire when I read Mad magazine featuring smart-ass, "What, me worry?" Alfred E. Neuman. Is it just me or when you look real quickly at GW Bush, he and Alfred E. are dead ringers for each other? The ears look like some one else I know too. Any who, besides your army men, sports was a big deal to you, consequently became a big deal to me. I've often wondered had I been much more interested in girly-things, toys, clothes, activities and such... would you have been interested in those things too. I don't think so Mark, you were pretty much your own guy, kind of conventional kid, normal... where as Mary, Mary quite the contrary, always seem to look at life and all it's rarities, wonders, weird wild ways as something to explore rather than ignore.

1960's TV included Combat featuring Vic Morrow and a platoon of soldiers trying to survive with WWII as it's backdrop. You and Chris felt strongly about wanting to watch that program and Sophie, Marcie and I wanted to watch The Red Skelton Variety Show starring the kind, dimple-faced, dashing and funny Red Skelton of course. It was quite the battle of the the TV, I think on Tuesday nights. I'm not crystal clear, but mom probably manadated taking turns every week or maybe if Gary was home on leave, we watched Combat, no questions asked since he was in the Air Force and soldiery and all. How could we not watch it at that point?

Marky & Mary

So here's a photo of us, the puddin-heads that we were... when there was such a thing as penny candy & candy bars for a nickle, with our empty Nehi, Pepsi, RC etc. bottles we'd merrily march over to Mr & Mrs Bakers candy store with the pennies, nickles & dimes we scrounged-up from around the house, to get more ice cold soda's, maybe a popcicle, fudgecicle, push-up or milknickle ice cream bar. Life was good, simple, easy going. Mom made chicken or meat loaf on Sunday with all the fixins then drop us off at the Kimo, State or Sunshine theaters for an afternoon at the movies. We saw Bambi run for her life one Saturday afternoon at the Highland theater. That was my favorite place to take in a movie. I loved the balcony and the Kimo's too. For a buck or two we'd get licorice or whatever sweets from Skaggs or Walgreens, popcorn & a coke at the movies and maybe still have a little bit left over. So simple, so fun. But what about those ears of yours? Actually, upon further review, I notice my ears protrude a bit there myself but the pixie hair-do covers 'um up. Just reminiscing a bit is all.

Happy Birthday to You!

Here's one of your favorite songs when you were a kid. Thinking of you today Mark.
Windy by The Association

Your Pick

Mark's Dedication

It's that time of year when the night grows eager to take over the day. The seasons switch places and the clock keeps ticking. We're still here, surviving, striving, thriving. Everyday another opportunity to live right, revive the stagnant soul, stay the course. It's a good, hopeful time of year.
"I want to make a dedication;" "I want to dedicate this month to you, the one's who loved and cared for me. The one's who trusted that I truly loved and cared for you." "I dedicate September to you for the goodness we shared and recall with great joy. I take my place quietly, in your heart and soul, the holy place of privilege, power, perfection beyond understanding. I'm still a part of you now. Spirits unbridled, beyond limitations... enhanced by our wish to preserve the magic and mystery of life." "I dedicate these days and nights to you... for the untouchable, unexplainable flawless impact you made on me through devine appointment, God's tender mercies, amazing Grace and infinite source of peace and understanding."

"Earth's Cry, Heaven's Smile"

Marky Mark

Alrriiight! We back on... up and running. It's been a while, domain name renewal, figuring out which door to go through, when, how, then to do this, that n ta other thing, trying times. Seems like it should have been much simpler than the rig-a-ma-row required. Whew... Done! OK, now where were we? We need to post some good stuff about Mark Allen Joseph.

You were called; Marky when you were a young 'un... Mark as you grew into adulthood. Mom's monkey-faced son. But then Mom's says "No, don't talk about mi hito like that." So I say; "But Mom, what does that say about me if I'm his twin sister?" At which time I get a dirty look of disapproval. Nah, I kid, but no really... you always did remind me of a chimpanzee. What? Their cute. Maybe it's the ears.

So anyway...

You seem so far away and at the same time... closer than I can understand. I looked up and thought I saw you in the shiny moon. I looked again and you and your shine were hidden by big smokey looking clouds. I looked at the sun... and with a glance, blinded by the brilliance of your light. I could feel the radiance, power, presence of heaven. I had to look away when I dared to look right in your bright face. Blessings blaze across the sky. Smoke signals, laser beams of iridescent light stretch across the horizon, jet streams criss-cross in the sky, stars fall and a spectrum of color appears out of no where, like a ribbon, to tie up loose ends. Shining sun, scorching heat and the moon so majestic, sacred and strong. Opposites occur, this side and that, all encompassing, balance and grace... no one completely comprehends.

It matters not. I know Grace with the understanding, that it does not come cheap. Try to explain the unexplainable, undeniable presence... just as large and lightening fast, as it is soft, subtle as the sound of a gentle whisper and leaves one in awe... amazed and humbled, and not even quite sure what's happened... how, why? Who can say for sure? So let me just say; To know the Grace of God, is to know a glimmer of heaven on earth & be blessed~

Twin Tid-Bits "

Feefee: Scrawny, precious, boney all at once... Mark as a little boy. Sharp, somewhat sensitive and a smart-ass, fun, focused, a pain in my...well, you know. From the army men, electric football sets, Strat-O-Matic. A 3M-type table game based on statistics and involved the toss of dice. Dream teams were assembled, the field was prepared, competition was underway, the dice knocked against themselves with that thick clicking sound as they tumbled on the table after you held the dice up to your chest, mixing-them up in your hands, then the dice roll. That was one play. God Bless anybody who dared even approach the kitchen table if you were in the middle of Strat-O-Matic. Ooo... scared of you. Those boney knuckles of yours on my person in the form of a closed angry fist was not a walk in the park, come to think of it. The hours you spent in the front yard on Walter Street digging out tunnels, roads, building bridges, until on more than one occasion, good chunks of yard caved-in several inches. I thought it was the coolest thing when you got a football outfit from Ramona and Rudy. The helmet and all were Greenbay Packers colors and even tho' I was happy to receive a pair of furry slippers, I would loved to have gotten a football uniform.

The time you and I were at odds, fighting like two little pit bulls, we couldn't even look at each other, beefing, bickering, fussing about God knows what stupid no thing as we sit around the supper table... Mom on the phone and as I recall we looked at the bowl of creamed-corn at the same time, it was a matter of who would reach for the bowl first, daring the other to do something in the name of sibling discord... You proceeded to grab the bowl and in a very matter of fact manner, pour the bowl of creamed-corn right on top of my head. As far as I was concerned you may as well have fired off a round of ammunition at me, point blank... with a bazooka. I was dumb founded even tho I saw it coming a mile away. I looked at mom as the yellow, creamy corn dripped off my shell-shocked face. I waited for mom to drop the phone in horror, appauled with what she had just witnessed, the unthinkable, the gall of Mark... She actully took it quite well, too well for my taste. Mark faced no disciplinary measures in fact, got off squeaky clean while I washed creamed-corn off my furious and humiliated face.

Thanks Neil!

The other day as I was leaving work, I was offered a ride by one of the fellas who transports people all day in one of those little golf-cart-type vehicles, to the parking lot, the cancer research center, and hospital...to and fro, all day. I thanked him but told him I'd better walk. He said; "Ah c'mon, why deny yourself first rate service?" Neil is typical of the other drivers; retired military, enjoys helping people and being of service. Yeah, that sounds like a veteran of war to me. I told him he drove a hard bargain and couldn't resist his enthusiasm so I hopped in the buggie and joined a few people already seated, and away we went.

A cool evening, early November in the high desert, nice, clear, crisp evening, the sun... so lovely, silently setting, keeping time with the rhythm of the moment, life in motion, activity all around as workers, hospital personal, security guards, parking lot attendants, visitors to the hospital and people starting another shift, propel themselves about, moving from place to place under a bright, beautiful, half moon, swollen with luxurious light ~

In the middle of all this I notice two little, golden-haired, puddin heads. They sat in front of me with who, I figured to be their mother. She spoke with an accent, maybe South Africa, the Netherlands, not sure, really doesn't have any bearing on the story. I asked the mother if the little boy and little girl were twins after figuring out if they could be about the same age. They seemed like they were about four years old. I had to ask outright; "Do we have twins here?" Mother said; "Yes, we do!" with a smile that lit up her face. "I'm a twin, too," I gushed, "and I have a twin brother!" The twins and mother turned to take a look at this other twin. I asked how many minutes apart the twins are and she said, "one minute." "Cesarean huh?" I asked. Mother nodded in agreement. I mentioned Mark being four minutes older than me and I've been told that, in some cultures like Nigeria and elsewhere, if you wait it out without your "womb mate" and end-up the last one standing so to speak, the last one out, that you are considered, more patient, wiser, more mature, therefore the oldest. I must have mentioned two or three times during that little trip, lasting only a few minutes, how special twins are. My heart filled to the top, actually overflowed with the magic of the moment, as time and space rushes by. When joy and sadness mix, it makes for a curious, wondrous concoction, serendipity exemplified~

As I unlocked the door of my pick-up, to go home, I happened to look up, behind my left soldier, where the early evening, fat, half-moon shines it's magnificent smile and light on me. I wondered if the dark side of the moon this evening was any less the other half of the moon, because it couldn't be seen. I realized right then... that even tho' I can't see Mark, I know he is here, there, somewhere, somehow, then, now and into the future we go, forever twins. It's gotta be, I tell myself to make sense of his absence with the presence of a half-moon, knowing the other half of the moon is there, still attached and very much a part of the whole. Way cool connection. I'll take that as a kiss from the heaven's, sweet, soft whispers from on high, from the center, outside, inside out, all around, up and down... messages, signs, signals, warnings, writing on the wall, wings waving with arms full of love, light, laughter ~

So yes... Thanks Neil, for the ride, thanks so much...first rate, for sure!

Here's to You Mark! Happy Birthday to You!!

Mazz - Que Me Lleven Canciones

Of course, I'm thinking of you today brother.
A toast to you for sharing with me, some of the most memorable times of my life.

Just a Thought

I wonder what it would have been like to grow-up without you? I thought maybe we were the only twins in the world for a while. Mark and Mary... so well taken care of, spoiled and made to feel special. I felt sorry for other kid's who would never know the uniqueness of having a constant partner to grow-up with, double the goodness, double the joy of life as our childhood lived-out in tandem. With so many unspoken understanding's... what a strong, irreplaceable bond we shared, unbelievably simple yet unforgettable moments that made us feel good about our twin connection. How could we not feel special and glad to be one another's twin? You represented twins well and to this day, still very much considered, an outstanding twin brother overall. Thank you very much for the great memories!

Froggy

A bowl of corn flakes, a piece of toast, maybe some chocolate milk and we were off to see Froggy. Froggy lived next door in Fofo and Florence’s backyard in the wishing well that was made of rough mortar and baseball-size rocks.

The wishing well was falling apart. It was more than half-way filled with dirt and a variety of items like small broken pieces of charred wood and tiny pieces of concrete along with chunks of thick, green, brown and blue colored glass.

An old wooden fence separated the backyards. We had to slide one of the loose slats over so we could walk through. Just a few more steps away… our friend, our comrade and much to our delight; Froggy waited. Our treasure and gold mine of joy, serendipity!

One could sit comfortably on the short stack of lumber next to the well to lean over and look inside. There was plenty of space for someone to sit on the wall of the well and it was the most perfectly wonderful place to be in the world.

The day Mark and Mary, four year old twins, setting off just after breakfast, venturing on to hunt, not exactly knowing what they were hunting for. What a discovery! Froggy was all but weathered, brittle, broken bits of discolored sponge nestled, cozy and comfy.

Oh sure Froggy was quiet, we didn’t care, we managed to communicate and talk about everything and nothing at all. We enjoyed the company of our friend and getting lost in the magic of youthful innocence. Those lifeless pieces of dried up sponge came to life. Our special little friend was as old as time and as brand new as the first light of day.

The short visits seemed so timeless. We reveled in our little self-contained flights of fancy where our imagination took us to far away places, questions answered, observations made and wishes granted. Froggy enhanced, entranced and enchanted the lives of two little people forever. I hope you have known a friend like Froggy somewhere in your life as well.

Mark and the Music

When Mark was a boy he dreamt of getting a band together and calling it “Mark and The Markers,” maybe headlining on The Ed Sullivan Show or American Bandstand. It was a short-lived dream and the American public was denied the thrill of ever seeing Mark and The Markers appear on national television.

Apparently his interest in basketball and baseball distracted him enough to make him forget about his musical aspirations. It wasn’t until 1983 that Mark, minus The Markers, made his radio debut at KANW after successfully completing a radio broadcasting class at T.V.I..

Mark saw this prospect as an avenue to play his favorite music, the music of Santana, Tito Puentes, Malo, War, Tower of Power, Gloria Estefan, Jose Feliciano, Axteca, etc. This also presented Mark with a challenge and an exciting “hobby” to dabble in on his days off from his job at U.S. West.

As it happened, Mark hit the ground running and quickly earned a regular spot on Saturday mornings at 89.9 KANW FM. Mark was ecstatic about the opportunity to introduce listeners to “The Latin Magic Hour” which began at noon following “The Spanish Show.” Disappointment followed after a few years of his popular noon time program as it was canceled for supposedly not attracting enough listeners. I thought about that as I savored every drop of the recent telecast of the First Annual Latino Grammy Awards Show. It was Mark's hope that one day he would be allowed to revive “The Latin Magic Hour.”

Mark turned his full attention to “The Spanish Show” and relished the idea of waking-up the “gente” of New Mexico. Songs like “Las Mananitas,” “Crei,” “Flor de Las Flores,” y “Arriba Nuevo Mexico” became his wake up calls for family and friends across the state. The dedication and request line rang off the wall and Mark needed help answering the calls. That’s where I came in. He figured since we were classmates in the radio broadcasting class, and being his twin sister, I had the minimum qualifications necessary to join him on Saturday mornings. Our Saturday morning chitchat and banter included quibbling over whose turn it was to bring in the breakfast burritos. All the sibling-sass was actually embraced by the listeners.

Mark began to think of ways to showcase the musicians and music of New Mexico. Drawing on his own wits, determination and resources, he organized the first “Latin Music Festival,” From obtaining an appropriate venue to accommodate the event, insurance, sponsors, security, to parking, food, beverages and rest rooms. Mark covered all the logistics. Entertainers like Roberto Griego, Al Hurricane & Jr., Chris Abeyta & “Lumbre Del Sol,” and “Red Wine” eagerly rallied around Mark in support of his endeavors from the get-go. Non-profit organizations became benefactors of the proceeds earned from the concerts and Mark was glad to be able to put back into the community.

Mark blazed trails in his efforts to promote New Mexico music and he was a champion of the highest caliber in satisfying the hardy appetites of his beloved fellow New Mexican’s who were hungry to hear and see their hometown, musical favorites. Little Joe Y La Familia, Ram Herrera, Jose Feliciano and Tower of Power were among the internationally known musicians brought in, as people gathered at local parks and plazas by the thousands to celebrate the savory music.

What mattered most to Mark besides his precious Nancy, Mark, Maria Elena and Sophia, was the music. Listeners taped the music and Mark took pride in knowing that the distinctive flavor of New Mexico was being heard all over the world. During the Persian Gulf conflict in 1992-93 men and women from New Mexico wrote to request songs and make dedications to their loved ones back here, at home. We received the most endearing correspondence from those deployed out at sea aboard carriers and ships. The musica nortena, including the rich, rancheras, cumbias, and mariachi sounds resonated in barracks and battalions across the other side of the globe.

All of Mark’s time and energy devoted to promoting the music was done on a volunteer basis. The rewards of his hard work were priceless. Mark and I became part of the hearts and homes of our family of listeners, and that is what kept the fire going in Mark. His infectious enthusiasm generated an excitement about New Mexican music that was awesome to witness.

Mark’s relentless pursuit of promoting la musica de la gente was stellar and was done with a combination of respect, humility and pride for the people who played and listened. Today Mark is regarded by many in the local and international music industry as a good-humored man of integrity and remains our “Mark of Excellence.”

by Mary Ellen “Maria Elena” Ipiotis
September 2000