Albuquerque sits in a magical location under a perfect sky. The Sandia Mountains loom large and close, the crest a mile above us and not 10 miles away, defining our eastern limit. Light and shadow play over that convoluted face all day. Where else do people look east at sunset?
From all over town, one can see the great divide of the Rio Grande flanked by the bosque, the riparian woods that survive because they are in the city, while much of the rest has perished. That fertile band slowly changes from chartreuse to green to gold then brown and gray before starting over.
To the north we see Christ’s Blood, and Redondo amid the mountains of Jemez, and, perhaps, the severed head of Cabezon.
Looking west, we see the escarpment, a lava wall, and the 5 volcanoes that produced it (from south to north: JA cone, Black Cone, Vulcan (the largest), Butte and Bond [thanks, APS!]). Volcanoes! This isn’t Hawai’i or Italy. That lava made rich soil and drew the artists whose works are in the way of someone’s faster commute.
Beyond our little volcanoes, 80 miles away, Turquoise Mountain, one of the four pillars of Dine’tah, stands above El Malpais, the dried blood of Big Monster (whose head is Cabezon), and the Zuni Mountains, recovered now from clear-cutting a century ago.
The eye glides south, stealing past Sierra Ladrones, Tomé Hill and Cielo Los Lunas. Lost in the layers, beyond sight but in mind, lie the San Mateos, San Augustin and Grandfather Gila, whose wolves have come home. Listen for a moment.
With so much timeless beauty around us, flowing into us even in the middle of town, why do we let someone poke us in the eye with a sharp stick? I’m talking about the billboards and cell towers that puncture this magnificent vista every way you turn.
These landmarks are our ancient heritage and our commonwealth. They nurture each of us every day. The landscape makes our home unique. Why do we let anyone diminish this magic? How can we sacrifice our communal good like this?
The Pragmatist will say, hey, it goes with the territory, just another feature of urban life (even though billboards and stunningly-ugly cell towers spread across empty terrain in all directions). Why do we have to give up the good that was here before us to have the benefits of a city? What kind of city requires destruction of the long view? Do people select their homes for the really great billboards nearby? Do you plan your drive to be sure you don’t miss that great billboard along Menaul? Do you think billboards contribute more to your life than they take from it? I don’t.
Billboards aren’t just along the Interstates. A block from my home a three-sided billboard hawks crap I’ll never buy. What about the irony of the beer billboards? They should have a note asking drinking drivers not to throw their bottles on the street. Don’t know where your next bland meal is coming from? Just keep one eye on the billboards, one eye on the road.
As for the newer scourge of cell towers, why do they seem untouched by human hands? Does efficiency have to be ugly? Can’t we have an Eiffel Cell Tower or, better, repeaters hidden in street lamps and on top of buildings?
Oh, but ingenuity requires money and care. Don’t expect someone who thinks of your eyeballs as a commodity, your attention as an asset, to care about the long view.At this point, someone mutters “socialist,” perhaps while drawing a flag tighter around his shoulders. “Private property rights,” he snarls, “the power of the market,” as if Capitalism is pure good. You don’t have the right to poke me in the eye. No one has the right to turn this great place into just another place. What are the moral values of someone who would destroy la vista? Or one who would let it be destroyed.
We are letting a few take our unique place from all of us. They will not stop until every square inch produces holy revenue. The place means nothing to them. They cannot value anything without a price.
The small group that opposes you counts on your apathy, your lethargy, and their well-placed investments. Tell them our home isn’t adspace. We have to stop them and reverse the damage, restore the public space. Love it or lose it.
The mayoral race has started. Where do the candidates stand on this?
This is our commonwealth ? don’t sell it, don’t give it away. mjh
Over at www.dukecityfix.com, my friend Johnny_Mango has written about a huge new billboard on Central and others around the State Fair Grounds (“Expo”). He said it well and with the love of someone who thinks we can do better. Read his entry for a soothing antidote to my screed.