4/2/16, “I
Want To Believe”
Roswell, New
Mexico
No dateline
could better capture the mystique of alien allure than that one. “I want to believe” is what Detective Mulder
says about aliens. He has a poster in
his office with those words. Here in
Roswell, I want to believe, but I don’t believe. I
don’t believe that aliens landed here almost 70 years ago, and I don’t believe
that our government, through 12 presidential administrations, would have have
been able to cover up the evidence of an alien crash landing. The museum here in Roswell pays testament to
the people who do believe and those who want to believe. To me, it was just a cute series of displays
and exhibits. I’m sure something weird
happened in Roswell 70 years ago. I just
don’t believe it was aliens, even if I want to believe.
This concept of “I want to believe” can also
apply to religion. Many people,
believing that a corporal vision of life that can only explained by science and
logic is inadequate, want to believe.
Many people genuinely do believe, but others merely want to
believe. They want to believe in an
all-powerful deity, but they cannot reconcile that with the evil of the world
or their other beliefs. That is where
faith comes in. Faith is what allows
people who want to believe to believe in what they might not otherwise be able
to believe. I do not have faith in
anything other than science and logic and my senses.
That brings me to our adventure of this
morning, the demonstration of one of mankind’s pinnacle achievements in science
and technology. We woke up to the wakeup
call at 6:30 AM, got ready, and headed down to breakfast. Breakfast was the traditional Hampton Inn
fare, quite good, I had a waffle, sausage, and scrambled eggs. Frankie forewent the waffle. I let him take the first shift, as I was
still half asleep.
As soon as we got on
the highway, I put on Red and lit up my Davidoff Escurio Toro. It was a nice drive, and we were at the
checkpoint line by the time I was done with my cigar. Not long after that we arrived at the big
parking lot. It was very crowded. We weren’t the only ones who wanted to do
this. Frankie was far more excited than
I was about this, as it was one of his true bucket list items, learning to fly
a plane and running a marathon being the other two remaining. I got a hot dog, and we took a ceremonial
picture at the radiation sign and then walked towards ground zero.
I lit up a Diamond Crown and announced, “I
have become Death, destroyer of worlds,” slightly bungling Oppenheimer’s famous
quote. It was also a National Historic
Landmark, and the plaque was right on the monument that denoted ground
zero. This was it. We were here, at the site of the first
nuclear explosion in human history. We took
our ceremonial pictures and walked around as we talked about the science behind
it. There was no need to want to
believe. This was science. After we were done, we headed back, stopping
at the gift stand.
It was my turn to
drive, and I drove until we got to the next town, Carrizozo, an hour away. We stopped for Mexican food, which was quite
good, and I got caught up on my messages and social media. After lunch, I lit up a Camacho, and we got
back on the road, arriving in Roswell before long. The town was pretty much exactly what we
expected, a tourist trap for believers.
We went into the museum and walked around the exhibits, taking some
ceremonial pictures. We then looked
around the gift shops, all of which were hawking the little green men. I told Frankie I wanted to do my entry, so I
got my laptop and headed across the street.
I found a nice bench with a view of the museum marquee, where I lit up a
Graycliff and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that we
can head to the hotel once I finish my cigar.
This idea of
“I want to believe” can apply to so much more.
Here I am at my hotel, staring out the window at what is most likely
just an unimproved lot, but it makes for a good photo, and I want to believe
that it is the “crash site” from the Roswell UFO. When I get my new pipe on Christmas morning,
I want to believe that Santa left it, and my mother understands that well
enough to not say that she left it. When
I leave my Harry Potter wand next to my bedside, I want to believe that it will
protect me if the Dementors come in the middle of the night. There are so many more examples of times
where “I want to believe,” and I’m sure my readers will be able to supply their
own examples in their own lives.
After I
closed on Main Street, I walked around with the rest of my cigar, seeing if I
could find anything X-Files related or something that said, “I Want To
Believe”, but I got some other items. I
then went back to the car, and I did a sharp U-turn to head to the hotel, which
was only 3 miles back down Main Street.
Once we got to the hotel, we relaxed a bit before headed out to
dinner. It was between two choices,
either Big D’s Downtown Dive or Cowboy Cafe.
I opted for the latter, and I was glad I did. We had a very nice waiter, who had lived here
his whole life and never been east of Texas.
I ordered way too much food, loving the menu and wanting to try
everything, especially the chicken fried bacon and the steak strips, which were
both exactly what they seemed to be. Due
to a bit of a confusion with the waiter, I wound up getting two dinners, as
opposed to the option of getting an extra protein added to the regular
meal. It was a nominal difference in
price, and he wound up giving me a free slice of pie, impressed that I had
eaten so much, especially given that I was an easterner. I only had one of the set of sides, but I
finished both proteins and most of the blooming onion we got. It was all so good.
As we drove to the restaurant, Frankie told me
about his experiences with the paranormal, and I could tell he really wanted to
believe. We asked similar questions of
our waiter at the restaurant, and the waiter shared my belief that any
sufficiently advanced alien technology that could travel interstellar distances
would not crash and would not be seen unless it wanted to, and, if it wanted to
be seen, no government could have possibly covered it up. That does not, however, dismiss my allowance
of possible contact with primitive man.
After dinner, we went outside, and I looked up and saw something that I
hadn’t seen in months: stars. It was a
clear night, and I could even see the little dipper. We then headed back to the hotel, and Frankie
went out to have a cigarette, while I ventilated the room so that I could have
my pipe. I realized the bed would afford
me the best view of the “crash site,” so I sat on the bed, where I lit up my
Ardor and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can
publish, finish my pipe, and go to sleep.
We will want to be getting an early start tomorrow so that we can visit
all three NPS before they close. After
that, we can have some free time in Albuquerque.
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