Mary Schmidt Marketing Troubleshooter

The political echo chamber has been particularly noisy lately - what with all the back and forth re “real” and “fake” Americans…and all the nonsense re “anti” and “pro.” (And, doggone it, the poor Minnesota Congresswoman who apparently had no clue of what to expect when she went on Hardball. Here’s a great clue: The show is called - um - “Hardball.”)

I don’t know how the pundits would classify my quirky burque. I’m sure some of them would find the large number of brown people a bit frightening. But, Albuquerque has been rolling right along for over 300 years, with all colors, shapes and sizes of people. Many move here because of the diversity.

People can take anything and make it their own. For example, a Duke City Fix blogger talks about Why I Love A Particular Albuquerque McDonald’s. Here’s a snip:

I love the sound of New Mexico Spanish. For me, it’s like a warm blanket.

The sound of it reminds me of my grandmother’s tiny kitchen up north. She can ramble on, mixing Spanish words with English with ease as her hands turn white with flour over the stove. Then, of course, there’s the crackling AM radio station with barely audible Spanish corridos about heartbreak and death, and the dusty dog slobbering all over the screen door just waiting to devour our leftovers, no matter how hot the chile….

Almost every morning, I stop in this McDonald’s and pick up a coffee. I could go through the drive-thru, but I walk inside so I can listen to a group of lively, gray haired elderly men that are always there.

There’s always six or seven of them, sitting around the tables with their coffees. Some are dressed in perfectly pressed polyester pants, brightly colored net hats, and worn out windbreakers advertising long out-of-business mechanic shops. Their outfits likely put together in the morning without thought or concern of style, just like their Spanglish banter. It’s nearly identical to what I learned in San Jose.

…and that’s a wonderful part of our “real” America. I’ll be shopping at El Mezquite tomorrow - and one of the great attractions is listening to the Hispanic families happily chattering away, as they start their hard-earned weekend. I understand about one word out of five, but the language of happiness is universal. (I may also drop by the nearby Vietnamese bakery and pick up some sesame balls. Think really small doughnuts…fried dough, I’m there!)

Happy Friday, mi amigos!