All kidding aside, Zozobra really helps fight the gloom
ZOZOBRA BURNING HELPS US ALL FEEL BETTER
Thanks to the recent departure of a very talented Journal North arts and entertainment reporter, I was tasked with writing a news story about this year’s burning of Zozobra.
I was trying very hard to find a new angle, but I just couldn’t. This thing has happened for 94
straight years and is going on a 95th. Nothing can stop it.
Just about the only news is that backpacks aren’t allowed this year, so entry lines won’t be slowed down. Anyone who wants to take food in must bring it in a clear plastic bag; bags will be provided for those who don’t have one. This year, there is a 1970s theme.
Oh, and event chair Ray Sandoval wants you all to show up a little earlier so a horde isn’t storming the gates just before the Big Man lights up around 9:30 p.m.
In the name of balanced journalism, I reached out to the Zozobra Twitter account to see if the big man wanted to
comment on my story. The news media had never had his side of the story, I thought.
For those who don’t know, @Old_ Man_Gloom pops up on Twitter every year right around the time tickets go on sale, trolls everyone in his path, and goes away after the burning.
Before he gave me his statement, he wanted to make sure my story wasn’t going to be another “hatchet job.” I assured him it wouldn’t be any worse than what’s going to happen to him on Friday.
“Every year, I die an excruciating death so that New Mexicans can feel a little better about their miserable lives,” Zozobra said. “I am New Mexico’s Jesus. I should be praised. There should be statues of me in the plazas. But the media conspires against me.”
I asked him for a comment because I wanted to have a little fun. I don’t really have a lot of fun on the cops and courts beat. Every week, there seems to be another story about an abused or neglected child. Three of the past seven years, New Mexico ranked last in the nation for child well-being, according to the Annie E. Casey Foundation.
On Wednesday, I wrote a story about a newborn baby who was found dead in a trash bag in a trailer in Alcalde, north of Española. Just reading the search warrant affidavits made me sick to my stomach. When I think I’ve seen it all on this beat, something like this happens.
The infant apparently was also another victim of the state’s opioid epidemic. The baby’s father, who was not present for the baby’s birth or its tragic death, told police that he heard the mother, who is a reported heroin addict who used while pregnant, was injecting the child with heroin so the infant wouldn’t experience withdrawal symptoms.
According to data from the state Department of Health, there were 24.6 overdose deaths per 100,000 residents in New Mexico in 2017, compared to a rate of 21.7 nationally.
These realities, coupled with a slew of health problems I’ve been dealing with this year, has me feeling all types of gloomy.
But I know I’m not the only one who feels the pain. The thousands upon thousands of people who attend Zozobra all carry some sort of personal anguish.
That’s why it’s so cool to get together once a year and collectively get rid of our troubles. Repeatedly shouting “burn him” before we all lose our minds when he finally catches fire offers a release that just can’t be explained.
And all the funny-smelling smoke in the air might also be relieving some of the tension.
I won’t be able to go to the burning on Friday due to a prior commitment, but just writing about it is making me feel better.
Zozobra was right. He dies a horrible death every year so we all can feel a little better. He’s the villain we all need.
Burn him.