I wrote about the infamous Nacho Rebellion of 2008 a week or so ago. Caving in to my base instinct and love of hot peppers, Mel and I made our way to the Common Cents store that sold the mountains of cholesterol-laden loveliness. I had no idea that a simple nacho could be so, well, delightful. Sure, they will never win a culinary prize because, frankly, they look heinous - like something out of a horror movie - you know, the blob that ate Texas or something. And there is no question you cannot eat them while driving. Nope, not these cheese bombs. They have to be sorted through to find the "clean" chips to dip into the lake of cheese, sour cream, and hot - really hot - pickled peppers. Yum-o-rama.

There is no meat on them, so it is a cheese-fest anyone from Wisconsin will appreciate. Oh yes, I do understand why so many freaked out when their supply of these lovely culinary nightmares was abruptly terminated. For shame, nacho terminator.

But, being us of course, we could not have a basic nacho nirvana experience. Nope. You see we had a bunch of stuff to do that day. So Mel bought them while I paid our insurance bill. They were packed in a box bottom because, well, as I said, you can't eat them and drive. They drip and ooze cheese. Ach, damned good. Anyway, then I had to pay my registration fee. I went into the building and came out and Mel's portion was half gone. Dripped on his shirt (of course) and that is when I had my first bite. Oh my God they were awesome.

So we sat in front of the courthouse chowing for a few minutes before I realized everyone was leaving for the day; and we really didn't want to be known as "those weirdos who eat nachos in front of the courthouse." Whatever. SO we drove by the park and...parked. Mel, as you may have gathered, is brown, being Lakota and all. And two older ladies walking a small dog walked by, eyeing us with suspicion because Mel was (gasp) reading his newspaper, and the Lakota Times at that. This is a fatal faux pas on the by-ways of Chadron I guess...especially if you are brown.

Yes, these two camped in their yard watching us as if we were about to commit a string of burglaries. It was hilarious. We,of course, were completely disabled because, well, once you start on these nachos you can't stop until they're gone. Eeek. It was as if the nacho fairy cast a spell on us and we were enchanted. Sigh.

Not wanting to cause a vascular accident since these two ladies were quite intent on ascertaining our, er, intent in parking on a public street, I took over driving; and waved at them and said, "Can't eat nachos on the road." They laughed and everything seemed resolved. Meantime, while we sat and chowed, I told Mel not to freak out if the police were called because he was parked while brown. He laughed, I laughed, but we both recognized the possibility it could happen. That is part of the dark side of this small town.

On a whim, I said, "let's check out town for foreclosure notices." I was interested in seeing how many properties were going under. Within a block, there was the awful notice stuck on the entryway of what appeared to be a now-empty home. We also noticed the same "FOR SALE" signs that had been in the same yards for at least six months. Those homes, too, were empty.

So it seems the mortgage crisis has hit home, quite literally. For a town with a permanent population of around 5500, the number of sale signs and foreclosure notices seemed excessively-high. But the school assessment had increased on our property tax bill. So I wondered how many people had tanked because they couldn't make the payment due to increased taxes or because their mortgage adjusted. Obviously, there's no way to tell.

I do know that when Mel and I received our notice of increased assessment, our mortgage payment (the escrow portion) went up $347.00. That is too much and we received a mere two weeks' notice of same. I am trying to work with Chase to do a loan modification (check with your lender to see if they have such a program) to bring the payments down until my solo law practice stabilizes, but right now, who knows what they will say.

Yes, living in the middle of nowhere has its benefits. But it likewise has significant drawbacks in the lack of viable jobs for people with our education and experience. I suspect this issue is extant throughout the United States and, really, in any rural area. So, are we looking to leave? Probably. To go where? Who the hell knows.

And I hate feeling forced to take this action. Towns in this part of the world are literally dying. You see empty buildings and"FOR SALE" signs everywhere...it's sad, really. Chadron, Nebraska is a beautiful corner of this country; and the local College provides an influx of kids that is refreshing. I have no idea where the path we are now on will lead. but it is disheartening for those of us who love little goofy places like this to admit defeat in the face of economic b.s. over which we have no control whatsoever.

Panic sets in, then a weird sense of calm when you realize, "Hey, there's nothing you can do except the best you can do." I suspect a lot of people like us feel about like this right now. It's liberating, but frightening, all at once. And now, we shall see what happens. But if we have to leave, I will be damned sure to have one more order of nachos on the way out of town...for sure.