No. 961 – Space Cowboy

Performer: The Steve Miller Band

Songwriters: Steve Miller, Ben Sidran

Original Release: Brave New World

Year: 1969

Definitive Version: King Biscuit Flower Hour Presents The Steve Miller Band, 2003

Sometime shortly after I moved in with Laurie in 2005, she bought the King Biscuit album, and I loved it right away. I didn’t get into this song right away, so when I finally added it to my iTunes library, it was just in time to run for the border.

Our trip to Mexico at the end of March 2008 was the best vacation I’ve taken to this point. We went to San Miguel where Laurie’s aunt has a winter place, and it was everything I needed but don’t usually do on vacation: eat, drink and hang out. Too many times I feel obligated to see as much as I can in the short window that I’ll be somewhere—particularly if it’s someplace new. Not so this time. We still did a few things, and that was enough.

I’ll have a lot more to say about this trip in the weeks and months ahead, so I’ll just leave you with being a space cowboy. To get to San Miguel, you have to fly to Leon via Dallas. As if the 10 hours that you spend in the air, making connections, going through security and whatnot isn’t along enough day for you, then you have the 90-minute drive through the high-plains Mexican desert to look forward to.

The Leon airport was as laid back as American airports have become uptight. You disembark the airplane down the stairs on the tarmac, just like the old days here and file into the airport. You get your passport checked and then put your bag through a quick screener (like you do with your carry-on bag here). Then you play Mexican roulette. You push a button at a stop-go sign: If the light comes up red, you lose. You get to have your bag searched. Laurie pushed and it came up green, so off we went.

Laurie’s aunt had a shuttle waiting for us, and the driver had our names on a placard. We piled in with six other people and headed off.

And make no mistake: You’re in the middle of a desert, all scrubby with few signs of life after you leave Leon. The few towns we went through were maybe one stop sign (no lights), and because the rainy season was months in the rearview mirror, the countryside was a sea of brown, scrub green and maybe a little yellow punctuating the drab. The rivers and even lakes were either totally dry or about three more weeks away from it.

Finally, we came around a corner and there was a multicolored jewel dancing on the desert: San Miguel, elevation 6,280 feet—exactly 1,000 feet above the Mile High City.

And we still weren’t close to being done with our first day.