One of the pleasures of writing “Work of Art” comes in feedback I receive periodically.
Many have commented on the frequent “growing up” pieces, claiming, “That girl you described at a dance could’ve been me.” or “I too remember when it was safe to leave my bike out all night. Nobody would ever steal it.” Monday, Al Valdez explained that a previous column, “must’ve been written about me.” I didn’t recall having written anything particular about Valdez, the long-time manager of Gambles. He explained that much I had written on how Vegas youths used to earn money could have applied to him.
That’s a good feeling. A novel I’ve often referred to, “Bless Me, Ultima,” is great not only because of Rudolfo Anaya’s literary expertise but because many of his characters resemble people we know. We like to have someone to identify with. And it’s flattering to have a reader believe the column was about him.
A number of other readers have reacted to particular columns. Here, then, is some of the feedback:
— Regarding a column on earning money, Valdez said that as a child he’d make his money shining shoes. “I’d have enough money to take in the 2 o’clock show at the Coronado, then make the 4 o’clock show at the Serf, and then make it to the Kiva for the 7 o’clock movie.” He said that sometimes on his way from the Coronado to the Serf, he’d shine more shoes.
Coincidentally, the Coronado was located next to Gambles.
— Judee Williams, reacting to a piece I wrote about the weather, e-mailed to mention that she and Anne Bradford were the snow-trudgers photographed on Sixth Street by former Optic staffer Casey Stege. That photo, by the way, circulated all over the world. My sister in San Francisco mailed me a copy of a newspaper whose front page bore the photograph. A friend in Columbus, Ohio, called to say Las Vegas had made national news. ŒTis a pity (or maybe a blessing) that the photo didn’t identify either Williams or Bradford.
— Emma Estrada, long-time East Las Vegas educator, said she remembers the Highlands-area cemetery I wrote about earlier this year. She said she and her classmates used to play in the area when she was a child.
Another reader whose interest in the cemetery article was piqued is Nora Alvarado, who along with her husband John, grew up here. Nora remembers the Highlands campus well, citing an early women’s boarding house for coeds, called “Casa de Ramona.” In close proximity was Rodgers Funeral Home; and there was an elementary school where the Felix Martinez building stands. John earned spending money by selling not only the Optic, but the New Mexican, the Journal and the Tribune as well.
Both Alvarados spent many years as teachers.
— A number of “growing up” columns struck a familiar chord with Carmen Gonzales, a Las Vegan who moved to Albuquerque about five years ago. She recalls the Railroad Barrio I grew up in, and identified an area that has special memories for her: “a barrio of West Las Vegas, namely ŒLa Calle Chavez.'”
— A column on cheating, which began with a spoof on the musical “The Student Prince,” caught the eye and ear of Debbie Mills, a payroll manager at Luna Community College.
She asked whether I had a copy of the movie to lend her. I was able to borrow one, which we shared.
— Regarding one of my columns on language, Bob (Robert K.) Johnston, a frequent contributor to the Optic’s op-ed page, e-mailed, “The suffix -ee usually denotes a person or thing acted upon by the root verb, while -er denotes the actor. So we have Œtrainer’ and Œtrainee’ and lots of others.
But why do we have Œescapee’ and Œattendee’?” To make sure I understood the question, I had my wife read it to me (she became the reader, I was the readee). While I can think of several companion words with these suffixes (payer, payee; lessor, lessee), I can’t explain the exceptions.
— As to a column on the way we pronounce words, Henry Rodgers asked why Spanish-surnamed people call him Hendry.
Rodgers has a point about the gratuitous “d.” On radio we often hear about Hendry’s Shoe Repair, when Henry’s would suffice.
I explained to Hen(no-“d”)ry Rodgers that words get framed through analogy.
We have words like laundry, foundry and sundry, so why not Hendry? And besides, few if any other words in English end in “-nry.” Rodgers won’t accept that explanation. Can anyone?
— Finally, radio personality and school principal Martha Johnsen, commented on a column on garbology, in which I tried to construct a profile on some jerk who emptied a truckload of trash in our neighborhood. She did some discovering of her own when the original porch floor of her 1897 house, located near Carnegie Library, was removed recently.
Among other things, Johnsen found $1.76 in change, including three coins of 1900s vintage; postcards, rosary beads, children’s plastic soldiers and a Montgomery Ward receipt for a man’s suit, for $2.
But the prize find was a couple of tickets to the Coronado Theater for a Sunday matinee for a Jack Hoxie silent film. Here, Bob Johnston would probably ask, “Is a Œmatinee’ one to whom the afternoon movie is shown, and the person who runs the projector called the Œmatiner’? Thanks for nothing.
Martha Johnsen’s ticket find was too late to help Al Valdez, who, you will recall, shined shoes to pay his way into the movies. But on second thought, Valdez would have been very young in 1926, or possibly not yet born.