Out here where the realtors hope you rich rubes will never go is a different kind of Taos. I know, because it gets all over my shoes this time of year. Be that as it may, there’s something you ought to see.
We don’t do things half-way in El Norte, no sir, and the last thing we need to show you is a stinking building permit. Not that one’s required for this upgrade, just a sense of purpose, and my neighbor sure has one of those. And no, I’m not making fun here—wouldn’t dare—although this pretty much does stagger what beliefs this poor dead hippie does possess. And while I wouldn’t try this on my own property, you have to admit it gets the job done. Some kind of job, at any rate.
Take a gander at the photo. You’re looking at closet-sized “bump-out” or whatever you want to call it, with its own little roof and chimney. (The door to the single-wide is up those stairs and out of sight.) Now it must be said, the winter is long and cold in these parts. And if you contemplate the propane bill for an old trailer like this, that might get you to thinking about a wood stove. But where are you going to put it in a narrow house? Aha!
What this fellow did was cut a big hole in the side of his trailer, build a floor-level platform for a stove outside, then box the whole thing up like some kind of closet, only open to the inside, presumably. A closet with a wood stove in it. I hardly ever see smoke escaping from the chimney, which is probably a good thing. Note also the innovative use of one of the roof tires to hold the bucket of tar or sealing gunk, which keeps it right there where you need it. Lest you think I’m edging into satire, I assure you I keep a similar bucket on the roof of the adobe hovel where I am at present. It’s true, I swear to God.
Still, you may wonder, why have tires on the roof in the first place if you’re not rolling anywhere upside down? Never mind the reason, though—most people say “to hold the roof down”—what I want to know is, where do they come from? New Mexico is full of houses with old tires on the roof. Do people hoard the things and pass them on to their children?? There was a man in San Cristobal who had a yard full of ’71 Mercury Comets, but I think he thought they’d make him rich someday. Haha. Tires, maybe.
(Mine are waiting in the storage unit. When the market comes roaring back, I’m set.)
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{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }
I have seen the tires on the roof throughout the southwest and in Mexico but no so much here in the southeast. The only person I have ever had the chance to ask said he did it because the high winds made the metal roof on his trailer ripple and it was like being in a washtub with someone banging on the outside with a baseball bat. In Mexico I think it is a status symbol because I also saw them on concrete roofs.
In Loreto, BCS many of the the local denizens threw everything on the roof. I have seen toys, lumber, cooking utensils, brooms, hubcaps, pieces of lumber and once even a mailbox. I think it was the “away” place as in “throw away”.
The “away” place makes sense. I like the status symbol explanation, too.
But there are so many of them… And yet, I recently asked a friend what he thought about tires on the roofs—he’s been here at least 30 years—and he replied that he had never noticed!
Used tires are notoriously difficult to get rid of legally. In these times when recycling is preferred, most landfills won’t accept them, and it’s often quite difficult to find somewhere, anywhere that can/will recycle them, even if you pay a recycling fee. So, I guess the best solution is to find a new use — any use — for them.
Well, when you buy new tires around here, you pay a few bucks each for “recycling” the old ones. But I suspect they just end up in an arroyo somewhere, or maybe the employees fight to see who gets to take them home and put them on the roof.
Strange days, bro’, strange days for sure.
Tires to keep your roof from flapping or flying away sounds rather functional, but I propose another possibility: Some folks just kind of like the look of tires around a place. Back in Abilene (you must have noticed this, John) there were at least three different levels of yard decoration. First there were the big houses with their immaculate lawns, trimmed hedges and flower gardens – mostly tended by black “yardmen” from the opposite side of town. Then there was a middling sort of place that might feature a gnome or jockey (a black one in those days) standing vigil at the end of the sidewalk and extending a faux hitching ring. Finally came the places where there was precious little grass in the yard, but the yard itself was often marked off by a line of half-buried tires (usually painted white) or sometimes used oil field drill bits. On the yards of places like that I have seen bathtubs – and once even a toilet – used as planters. No yardmen did the planting, however. This was pure redneck esthetics, conceived and executed by the owner-artist.
These roof tires might be in that tradition. I confess that I myself always had a weakness for that sort of creativity.
I remember the used oil well drill bits! That was more a status symbol than decoration, I think. Excellent analysis and recollection, BTW. Pure redneck aesthetics, indeed.
That crack of mine about redneck esthetics sounded more dismissive than I intended it to be. And even my correlation of social class with style of yard ornamentation was a little over-baked. Those classes certainly existed, and I myself – being too close for comfort to the lowest one – developed some resentments accordingly. However, if I try to look back on all of it as clearly as I can, I see a lot to be happy and even thankful about in a small-town (or small city, more accurately) upbringing in the American southwest circa 50′s and early 60′s. The distances between the young people of the various classes wasn’t felt all that greatly, and, despite my resentments, I never felt I wasn’t as good as or didn’t have the same opportunities as kids of relatively greater or even much greater wealth. All in all, Abilene in those days – and possibly even now, but how would I know? – was a pretty good launching pad for those who actually wanted to launch. Some didn’t want to, of course, and having seen now many other places on this continent, I can’t say for sure that they weren’t right.
“The Tree of Life” was a pretty interesting movie for someone of such a background, like you and me and the guy (Terrence Malick) who made the film. The story was a bit murky and overly portentous, and there were pretentious art-film fluorishes everywhere, but the evocations of place were at its heart and seemed very accurate and, for me, moving. There was a scene in which the neighborhood kids on their bikes all follow behind the DDT truck rumbling through the streets, lost in the white fog it was putting out, which was of course the whole idea. I and my friends did that very thing many a time. Too bad there are no more DDT trucks, but even if there were, would the city’s lawyers let the drivers indulge kids in what was undoubtedly a pretty dangerous activity? It was amazing we didn’t all get killed doing this or any number of similar things. Risk-taking of course comes naturally to the young, and I can’t help but think that doing some of it young prepares one for the risks of later life. Or perhaps makes one simply grateful for having survived at all.
Obviously this guy doesn’t know a thing about using tools or building. I love how he left the boards in one piece without cutting them, and what’s up with the black insulation paper on the outside. I am a woman and could show him a thing or to about using some nails, hammer, a saw, and slapping some paint on that project. The bottom line, “He doesn’t care!” The tires don’t bother me. Sorry for you, for having to look at this eyesore.
God gave us beautiful land to look at and some idiot builds this.
I think you pretty much have the picture. I’m just happy the pit bulls haven’t gotten loose again.