So last time I had us in El Pinto, the restaurant in Albuquerque that we’d picked for dinner on our anniversary. I was just saying that the restaurant felt different to me from what it had been in the old days...both from when Martha and I were living in New Mexico before coming to Texas, and from when I was much younger, before going off to school in New England in 1979.
It was noisier, for one thing. The night time crowd around us was loud. There was much laughing and conversation...so much so that it was hard for us to hear each other. And it was more crowded. I remembered it from the days when we’d come here for lunches, usually unfashionably late or even more unfashionably early.
But the architecture and the general decor of the place were unchanged, as was the food. Thus we had one of those odd experiences you have when the past and the present vigorously and forcefully collide, so that everything has changed and yet everything is precisely the same.
About the photos: First a shot taken from Sandia Crest (highest point in the mountains). You can see some of the city itself in the distance.
Second, if you’re at the crest, and you turn around and look away from the city, this is what you see, the Forest of Steel. These are the radio and microwave towers at the Crest. Even in an age of cable and satellites, they carry a lot of data, and (or so I’m led to believe) at one time the city got is TV broadcasts from them. They show up in one of Tony Hillerman’s early books where a character notes that when there are strong windstorms on the mountains, and the towers sway, TV screens all over town would wiggle. Which is kinda cool.
Third, and finally, here’s another shot of Martha and her friend Judy during one of our visits to Old Town.
A waitress appeared and asked if we’d like something to drink. We both selected margaritas. It says something about the crowd that she had to shout at us to be heard, and we had to shout our answers in return. “I said MAR-Ga-Rita!”
The drinks came and they were quite good, though very strong. We toasted one another and our anniversary. “To another 42 years,” we said. It seems like an easy goal. After all, I’d only be 109 years old. Gosh. Prime of life. Easy peasy.
The waitress returned and we ordered, again yelling over the crowd (El Pinto’s design...its form as an adobe hacienda...is exquisite. But it could definitely use a little sound proofing). I had a burrito and Martha had a taco plate. Then, we watched the crowd while we waited. We would have spent the time in conversation, but as I say, it was hard to hear.
I don’t have a whole lot to report about the people around us that night. They were just, well, a crowd. I detected quite a few Albuquerque-locals...so much for the “tourist trap” canard...but there were also quite a few visitors from all over. I heard several languages, ranging from French to Chinese. So, yes, I guess you could say it was “all touristy” to some degree, just not completely.
The one thing about not being able to talk while we waited was that I had time to watch Martha. That’s always a pleasurable experience.
Also, I had a moment to reflect. I recalled times I’d come here before...and they included some rather odd encounters. For instance, there was the time that Martha and I had been here for a lunch, I think slightly more than ten years ago. We’d come in, and it been quiet (unlike now), and we’d been startled to see two Orthodox priests at a table near ours.(1) They were having, as I recall, a spirited debate over whether priests could forgive sins. I’d never even considered the concept--which, I suppose, you’d expect from someone raised as a rationalist in a very Protestant environment (even if I wasn’t particularly a believer in that last).
And yet, I thought, as I sat there...on a smaller, more human level...wasn’t the forgiveness of sin sort of what made it possible for us to be there? Celebrating 42 years of marriage? Isn’t that a major part of what marriage is all about? And what makes it possible?
That is, isn’t any successful marriage the story of the constant forgiving of a thousand, thousand transgressions? Martha putting up with me...with my notoriously bad memory, my snoring on nights when I have allergies (or I’ve had more than two drinks), my shortness of temper at inopportune times?
Though...to be fair... don’t I have my share of forgiving to do as well? The times she loses her keys at exactly the moment we need to be in motion, the panicked overpacking before we leave on trips, the fact that sometimes her critiques of situations or individuals might have been best left to a moment when the subject in question was safely out of earshot....
Anyway, we forgive...and forgive...and forgive these things...these little things...not serious infractions...but cumulatively infuriating.(2)
And the marriages...the relationships...which survive are the product of our ability to do just that exactly.
So thinking, I raised my glass again to Martha, and toasted her, though she could not hear me, and did not see me (she was busy looking at some chaos at another table). Here’s to Martha, I thought, for having the patience and the wisdom to put up with me. No easy feat.
And then, I added...after some hesitation... here’s to me. For similar reasons. In reverse.
Though, of course, I’d never say that out loud...
And least not if there was a chance of her hearing.
But, seriously, let’s raise our glasses now to forgiving hearts. For, without them, life would be impossible....
More to come.
Footnotes:
1. It wasn’t quite as odd as you might think. While, undoubtably, the Catholic and Protestant communities form the vast majority of Christians in New Mexico, there are Orthodox believers as well. In fact, there is an Orthodox Church, All Saints of North America , right next door to the restaurant. I presume that’s where the priests were from. The church has a website here: https://www.allsaintsofnorthamerica.net/
2. By this I do not mean things like abuse or violence. Those are another matter entirely. They *may* be forgiven, but they must not be forgotten. And the person responsible for spousal or child abuse must be kept at a distance from anyone who might be a victim, no mattered how reformed they may pretend to be.
Copyright©2025 Michael Jay Tucker
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