William F. Buckley died. He probably would have said “succumbed,” or something fancier.Buckley was a boyhood hero, not for his politics, but for vocabulary and mastery of the language. The guy talked pretty.Buckley was an old man when he died but I will always suspect his condition took a turn for the worse when a grandkid sent him a text message. It was then Buckley might have realized his beloved language was doomed.Accepting a formal dinner invitation, the kid might have texted: Gramps, C U at 8.In honor of Buckley, I want to salute language by dwelling on “feng shui,” a rather elegant phrase of Chinese origin meaning the arrangement of objects to radiate the feeling of harmony.I was introduced to feng shui when a hostess showing her lovely home apologized for a room’s lack of feng shui. I nodded in sad agreement, thinking, at the time, feng shui was Chinese for “no wet bar.”Feng shui, as I get it, is being someplace and just feeling good about it because of how things are arranged.This leads us to the section of the column that will talk about New Mexico feng shui.For instance, a New Mexico place that has feng shui is the State Capitol Building.
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