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Pure Water, Fast Ducks

While driving back from San Diego this summer, we saw a sign that made no sense in Deming, New Mexico. It said: Welcome to Deming, home of pure water and fast ducks. I can see why a place in the desert would want to claim pure water. But what's the deal with the ducks?

Well, as fate would have it, someone in my department has lived in Deming and related the story.

Deming, New Mexico is the home of the Great American Duck Race; an event that just celebrated its 27th year. Each year, multiples of people go down to Deming with their wannabe speedy ducks and let them tear it loose on the track.

Now I know what you are thinking; who cares about a bunch of fast ducks? Well, that's what I was thinking anyway, but just like most small towns americana, this is a party. Sure there are the duck races and I am sure a multitude of duck related things for the duck enthusiast, but when you boil off the fat, it is a festival like any other. From what I hear, it is actually a lot of fun. I just wonder what they do with the losing ducks when it is done (le'orange?)? Maybe next year, I'll mark it on the calendar and head down their. If anyone wants to join me, I'll flip the bill (sorry...bad duck pun intended).

I think it is utterly amazing that I live in a state that you can go see the ducks run and then make your way a couple of hours and see the rocket races. You got to love this state!

Before I let you waddle on the subject, I have to throw out my favorite duck joke!
A Priest, Rabbi and a duck go into a bar. The bartender says: What is this...a joke!?!?!
I'll be here all week.

The final hunt

I'm not usually one to give these death announcements/memorializing speeches, but today I felt compelled to write about the passing of Steve Irwin, aka, the crocodile hunter. I wasn't a big fan of his shows, though I did watch them ever so often. Also, I don't like to mourn celebrities more then any of the countless unknowns that die everyday that I have never heard of, but I just had to.

I guess I am wondering if it was all worth it for him. All of those years playing with fire, putting himself into dangerous scrapes. Was something like this bound to happen? I heard on CNN that this is only the second Stingray related death on record in Australia and that the Stingray doesn't even make the top ten most dangerous creature list there. It just seems so pointless.

I wonder if a guy like that would have had it any other way. I'm sure that he would have loved to have seen his kids grow up and to grow old himself, but I wonder if he had an idea that this could happen. I don't think in any way he got what he deserved or anything like that that I have been reading today on various sites. Is he the Bruce Lee or Jim Morrison of his genre?