Zane Fischer
Stories by Zane Fischer
Zane's World
Asenath Kepler puts affordable housing and infill at the center of her mayoral platform, but what does that really mean? Meanwhile, the New Mexico Film Museum is increasingly looking like an underused facility--a thinly veiled marketing tool with an overpaid director.
Chi Dog Versus Chi Dog
The hot dog is the lowest form of sausage. So one has to ask, is it a back-handed compliment to suggest that Santa Fe turns out a better Chicago Dog than Chicago itself?
Slaughterhouse 505
A lot of people are up in arms, having recently realized, through Jonathan Safran Foer’s book, Eating Animals, that factory-farmed meat is the nastiest possible activity. But hough Safran Foer himself is a committed vegetarian, he’s too well-informed to paint all meat production and eating with the same brush.
Zane's World
Many Santa Feans were recently surprised to learn that an asphalt production plant had been slated to fire up at the Caja del Rio Landfill. The plant’s permit—granted by the New Mexico Air Quality Bureau—allows up to 600 tons of asphalt to be produced every hour.
Cold Snack!
The dark, chilly days of winter and the often attendant desire to remain inside belong to those of us who know that settling in with a good book or staying in bed are the best plans. Of course, those leisurely, lingering activities come with a de facto pit stop: the indulgent break for needed sustenance, the winter snack.
Shovel It!
The history of snow sports is one of tragedy, folly and regret. But some things hurt more than others. When 30 fun-filled years of mayhem and drunken horror is robbed from the public because of “liability,” the only choice is to go rogue.
Zane's World
Here’s how you can tell the truth about wages in Santa Fe: No one who is against the living wage would ever agree to work for a rate as low as the living wage. They’ll say it’s economics. But we can go ahead and call it hypocrisy.
Metamorphosis
The elegant little building, situated at the corner of Alameda and Galisteo streets, once contained the fledgling promise of the Mediterranean Café. It has spent the last several years drooping from a gem into a degenerate gangster bar and then a rug shop and, finally, a sad, empty building in need of genuine metamorphosis. The building was a cockroach, but it woke up recently to find it had transformed into Louie’s Corner Café.
Zane's World
You know what I’m all done with? Santa Fe’s quatrocentenario––the 400th anniversary celebration. So far nothing has really happened to convince me that it’s anything other than a weird post-colonial seizure—the fevered gasp of a misunderstood and violent history.
Going Local Means Getting Large
Hand me a sealed plastic bag of so-called “food” on an airplane and my instinct instinct is to say, “If any portion of the high cost of my airplane ticket is justified by the expense of this nasty little sack of over-processed by-products, please give me the home address of your CEO because I desperately want to wake him in the night by ramming these airplane-shaped graham crackers down his throat.”
