Could Kim Holland have been right? Kim, a reporter for Albuquerque TV channel 13, KRQE, was on the air when she pronounced the name of a state policeman, Pacheco as “Pu-cheek-oh.”
    In my last column, I had a lot of fun citing instances in which our surnames get murdered. At a party, I met sisters Alice and Donna Menzor, who commiserated and said they too had heard many variations on Hispanic last names.
    In fact, last week’s column drew considerable response, all of it on my side, i.e., everyone claiming Kim Holland needs a crash course in patronymics.
    That was until I received a call from Jose Abeyta, of Wagon Mound, a former state representative whose position after he retired was taken over, respectively, by Benjie Regensberg, Hector Balderas, and now Thomas Garcia.
    Abeyta said he’d known a man named Pacheco, a Portuguese, who corrected him when Abeyta simply assumed the man’s name was Pacheco, and pronounced it accordingly. And accordingly, Abeyta told me he learned that Pu-cheek-oh is correct if one is an Iberian.
    Could Kim Holland have been right? Have I ever really blown it when it comes to names? I remember years ago, citing a simple rule to a new acquaintance that the Spanish “j” sounds like an “h,” and therefore, the city San Jose should be rendered “San Hosay.” Same with San Huan.
    As I left this newly enlightened young lady, who’d just moved to Gallup, N.M., where I was living, I asked her name. “Hosephine,” she answered.
                                                            •••

    2006 has been an interesting year. Having just completed the Optic’s yearly wrap-up, I am amazed at how much happened in this little berg, involving mainly our schools and city government. Going through 250 front pages of the Optic, trying to glean the highlights convinces me that the real hazard in trying to compose a comprehensive retrospective of the community is in the inevitable omissions.
    Someone will ask, “Why didn’t you include such and such a story? Are you biased?”
    It’s like sending out Christmas cards or invitations; the anger some people express in telling us we forgot to include them far outweighs the pleasure of those who got the invitation and chose to enjoy it.
                                                            •••

    2007 means that half the planet will attempt a lifestyle change, hit it very hard for a couple of weeks and then chuck it. I refer, of course, to my (and others’) need to weigh much less. The weekly weight count under my photo has fluctuated, but not as much as I’d like, or in the right direction.
    When I first began recording my weight, at a whopping 234 pounds, I promised, as we all do, come New Year’s Day, that I’d do my best to lose weight. Exactly a year ago, my weight was 218, just what it is today. That’s progress?
    The lowest recorded weight I was able to find was 206, in December 2004.
    Obviously, I’m not thrilled.
    Reading about many suits, usually involving someone who’s clearly committed a crime, I get weary about the plethora of the-devil-made- me-do-it excuses we use. Whatever happened to accountability?
    What’s the harm in admitting, “Yes, I may have had a rotten childhood, but today I’m responsible for my actions”? or “Yes, I grew up in a benighted suburb of Dogpatch, but that just means I have to work and study harder to succeed”?
    Where I’m going with this is simply to vow never to blame age, my job, my genetics, scheduling conflicts, the weather, my personal chef or injuries for my failure to trim down from a Mack Truck to perhaps an SUV. Many of us know how to talk the talk. We acquire the latest exercise equipment the infomercials peddle, and we pedal just a bit, then use a sports sprain as an excuse not to mount that piece of equipment again.
    A high school girlfriend, whom I thought had always been just a few pounds north of ideal, recently was diagnosed with adult-onset diabetes. She lost 20 pounds, is back to her svelte high school figure, and looks terrific and says she feels fine. But the similarity ends there. Twenty pounds of weight loss in my case would certainly help, but proportionately, I have much farther to go.
    Those of you who may be making the same New Year’s Resolution, try hard. And please keep me honest. Never hesitate to ask my current weight, remind me that weight loss leading to good health is a procedure I alone can bring about, and keep bugging me about trying to maintain a healthful lifestyle.
    That means eschewing — not chewing — German chocolate cake.
    As long as we’re crunching numbers …
    Today’s column is the 205th installment of Work of Art, begun May 1, 2003.
    Sometimes it’s difficult to attempt covering a new topic each week.
    The job gets easier because of many of you who provide ideas. Please continue to do so in 2007.
    The word count for these columns is close to 200,000, but the number of unique words is only 16,524, or about one for each resident of this small town. Does that mean I’m a man of few words but that I use them over and over and over (like this)?
    Here’s a bit of trivia: “Happy” is the first word most of you will utter in 2007. What is the last word you’ll speak in 2006?