Google Place Pages

Before I launch into details about how to use TripAdvisor.com, you should probably be aware of the importance of Google Place Pages.  If you have already claimed your Google Places Page, you're not done yet.  Google has recently introduced several new products that are important for you to know about.  One expert recently told me that Google has introduced more new products in the last 4 months than they had in the previous 4 years.

If you haven't already claimed your business listing on Google you should immediately do so.  Don't worry, it's a simply process that you can complete in less than hour.  In fact, Google now has tutorials and a step-by-step lesson for you.

Why is this important?

In a recent TripAdvisor.com Forum posting, a Property Management Company representative from Santa Fe asked if there was anything she could do about how Google Places had links to reviews on Trip Advisor on her company Places Page that weren't for her company.  She was told in separate correspondence that Trip Advisor relies at least in part upon Google Places to identify companies.  She was told by Google that they rely on Trip Advisor listings to match reviews to "Places."

Caught in what seemed to be a circular trap, the company representative was exasperated.  The problem was that the reviews for this company on Google Places were NOT reviews for this woman's business.  They were reviews for a vacation rental company that had appropriated the business name via an identical domain name.  Ultimately, the problem wasn't really either Trip Advisor's or Google's fault -- it was a legal matter.

The point of this example is to show you the danger of not claiming and managing your business identity on Google and of not properly managing your business reviews on Trip Advisor.  If you have time, click on this link and follow the thread of responses -- there was a lot of confusion and a lot of wasted time and effort.  Because the TripAdvisor Forum was not the setting for a detailed response, I communicated via e-mail with the business rep.

My recommendation for this business:  they had not included the full name of their business when they claimed their Google Places identity.  I recommended that she start over on Google Places as if claiming a NEW business identity and once she had that set up, she could "Suspend" the first one.  Most people don't know it, but as the business owner, you have the power to remove your Google Places Page as long as Google can verify your relationship as owner.

An example of a Photo on La Posada de Taos' Google Places Page

Finally, I want to relate to you that La Posada de Taos did not claim its Google Business Identity on what is now known as Google Places until late in 2009.  At the time I first went to claim it, their map had us out on the West Mesa (we're downtown) with 3 rooms instead of 6 and lots of other misinformation.   We claimed our Identity and we keep our page current with visits every few months.  Here's what we currently do.  If the link doesn't work, do a Google Search using keywords La Posada de Taos and Google Places.

From time to time I'll have more information on Google Places Pages, but for now here are the Must Do's:

• Fully complete all the information
• Include photographs
• Link a video (even if it's just a generic Taos video from YouTube)
• Look at ALL of the business development tools available through Google, use at least one.
• Check your Google Map location (you can change it here easily)

House Flipping Files, It's the Bomb, Conclusion

Please read, Parts I and II of this story. You'll enjoy yourself more that way. Also, posting a comment is easy: just click on the link between chapters with the word "comments" in it. You don't have to give your real name -- comment anonymously.

Last year, Oprah made "The Secret" famous when she had several shows about it. If you're not familiar with it, the concept involves something known as the "Law of Attraction." To some, The Secret is a repackaging of "The Power of Positive Thinking." To others, it's hooey.

Regardless, we asked ourselves and our friends, if you only get what you "attract," then how on Earth did we end up becoming responsible for disposing of a home-made bomb? The answer, like the Secret itself, depends upon who you ask. Those who believe in the Secret told us that it was the universe's way of solving a problem. The universe delivered us to the bomb because it knew we were the ones who would figure out the answer before anyone got hurt. Those who don't believe in the Secret simply told us that we were lucky to be alive.

We got home late after faxing the list to "Bill" and Googled "Picric Acid." The results were shown in Part I of this saga below.

What was our reaction to the Google Search findings? How many sayings are there for this type of thing? Our jaws dropped. We nearly peed our pants. We pinched each other to make sure we weren't having a nightmare. My personal favorite: I tasted a little vomit in my mouth.

After "Bill" didn't call back as promised and didn't immediately return my follow-up call, we decided that this was something that couldn't wait. By this time the morning of the next day had passed. Events had already been set in motion involving contractor visits to the house.

We decided to go back to the phone list. This time, Michael made the calls. The first person he spoke to gave him another number to call. This Michael did. Turns out the second number was to the New Mexico State Environment Department. Michael called the number and got through to a gentleman who was very helpful. Let's call him "Ted." Michael briefly explained the history of the problem and what we had found.

Just as had happened with Bill on the phone, when Michael began reading the list to Ted, there were audible gasps. Ted, it turns out, was a state employee who had knowledge of what these things were, but wasn't used to receiving calls from the public asking about how to dispose of them. His gasps quickly turned to cries of shock and alarm. Within seconds, Ted's reaction to what Michael was describing had escalated into an outright panic attack.

Michael had to stop Ted at one point and ask him to calm down. "You're really scaring me," Michael said. "I'm going to cry if you don't stop. Please just tell me who I need to call."

Ted calmed down long enough to give Michael the name of a disposal company and the conversation ended. Michael took a breather trying to calm down before he called that number. Ted also calmed down long enough to tell his boss in Santa Fe about the conversation he had just had with Michael.

Cooler heads prevailed and Ted called back immediately with new instructions: call 911.

Hindsight, baby. 20-20 as they say. Call 911. Of course. 9-1-1. Duh!

Who cares what Bill said? He hadn't done what he said he would do. We looked the stuff up online and saw it was more than simply dangerous. When we found this out, we should have immediately called 9-1-1. Hindsight. 20-20.

Michael hung up from Ted and took a deep breath. The phone rang.

"Hello, this is Michael."

"Michael! This is Lieutenant "Smith" from Albuquerque Police Department. How's it going? You doing alright today?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thanks for calling. I was about. . ."

"What the hell's going on down there? What are doing with this stuff? Do you know what kind of trouble you're in?"

"Woh, ho,ho. Hold on, sir, we found this stuff in an empty house. No one lives there. We just walked in yesterday and found it. We've been trying to figure out what to do with it. . ."

"No one lives there?"

"No sir. It's been vacant for a long time. Yesterday was our first day there."

"There's no one there?"

"No."

"You're not there right now."

"No, sir."

The conversation calmed down after that. After verifying the address, the conversation ended with an incredulous cop telling Michael that a Bomb Disposal Team had been dispatched to the house and that someone needed to go let them in.

The Remotec Andros 5A

Bomb Disposal Robot

The scene: a quite neighborhood a few miles from downtown Albuquerque. The homes are nice, the yards are well kept. Families are coming home from school and work. It's a perfectly normal beautiful spring day. Birds are chirping. Puffy white clouds form and dissipate overhead. The streets are blocked off with dozens of squad cars. Helicopters are circling overhead. Fire trucks are lined up down the street.

A strange truck arrives and a ramp is lowered. Out of the back and down the ramp comes a robot on wheels. It is followed by another of its kind. The two robots roll down the street and turn up the driveway of a nice little house in the middle of the block.

Crowds gather and are dispersed at the roadblocks down the street. An unknowing resident steps out of his house with his dog on a leash and walks right up to the scene. Before anyone sees him, he is at the foot of the driveway. He stands there while his dog pees on a bush. He is oblivious.

Someone yells at him. "Hey, you! Get out of there."

It takes him a moment to look up. The shout jolts him out of his quiet little world. He first sees a firetruck off to his left. He staggers backward as his head turns to find dozens of cops and firefighters staring at him. Panic strikes. He is frozen. Someone runs up to him and escorts him away.

The garage door to the house is now open and a robot has entered it. The camera mounted on its arm focuses on the wooden box and its contents. The second robot enters and slowly approaches the box. With extreme caution and with the skill only extensive training can give, a police bomb expert manipulates the robot's grappling device until it grabs one side of the box. Slowly, slowly. The box is lifted and the robot is brought out of the garage.

Everyone is motionless. The quiet stillness is broken only by the noise of television helicopters circling, circling overhead. A truck resembling an above-ground bomb shelter has arrived and a door in its rear has been opened. The robot crawls toward it and the box is placed inside. The door is closed and the bomb is driven away. The Dead Hand goes with it.

Reporters are swarming the ends of the block, trying to get around the barricades and down to the scene to interview someone. An unsuspecting passerby suffices as the on-the-scene expert for one television station. "Gosh, a bomb down this street? That's the last thing you would expect around here. I'm really scared. I hope they don't find one on my street."

All four local television news programs air the story that night with aerial and ground footage of the robots at work. Each reporter says essentially the same thing: "The bomb squad was called out to a residence where a bomb / bomb-making materials were found. Streets were blocked off. Residents were alarmed. Fear gripped the community. No information on where the materials came from or how they got there. Stay scared for more news."

By the way, "Bill" called me on the third day after we spoke and told me that his company would come by and get the chemicals out of the house for $3000. The money had to be paid in advance or his team would not even enter the house. They were ready to get to work the next day, but if we didn't immediately engage them, it would be a month before they could come back. What a crock.

I told Bill that time had run out and that the Albuquerque Police and Fire Departments had taken care of the problem two days before. He didn't sound in the least bit embarrassed or apologetic for blowing us off. Why had he told me not to call 911? Why did he not honor his promise to call me back that night and then not return my subsequent call? Why were the terms he offered for his company to remove the materials so onerous? Simple: he thought he had me over a barrel. He knew that if I considered him the expert and if I didn't use my own common sense, he could do whatever he wanted with me. Wrong, Bill. Hope you're not making too much money doing what you do. Thief!

The cost of calling 911 and having the Police and Fire Departments perform this work in a most heroic and professional manner: Zero point zero dollars. That's right, Bill. Zero point zero. No C.O.D. No attempted deception or theft. Nothing but honest to goodness professional services rendered by the best. Heroic services, by the way. The kind you, Bill, probably think that you deliver. Total cost: Zero point zero dollars, Bill! Okay, I got some gray hairs and my bald spot expanded a little, but otherwise, heroes don't charge for their work, it seems.

The house was "cleared" by the Police and Fire Departments and renovations began a few days later. By the end of May we had completed a top-to-bottom facelift on the place with electrical upgrades, new windows, doors, carpet, and refinishing hardwood floors. It was a real gem if I do say so myself.

In the end, love triumphed. Honesty prevailed. We chose to not be deterred by the circumstances and things turned out nicely. The best part of the whole thing, besides not being blown into tiny fleshy fragments: I will always have an incredible story to tell about the day that I encountered the Dead Hand and lived to tell about it.

Next Up: Joe Thirtypack. Come back soon, ya' hear.

Introduction to "Notes from the Hinterland"

Portrait of the Blogger

The Hinterland I presently hail from is Taos, New Mexico, USA. A strange place with big beautiful mountains and painterly blue skies unlike anywhere in the world. It is and has been the home to many of the world's most famous artists. It is the "secret" destination of many of our nation's elites. 


New Mexico is "The Land of Enchantment" and the birthplace of "The Bomb." Over on the other side of the Central Mountains and just a short time after the first atomic bomb was tested south of here, the Roswell Incident occurred.  Los Alamos is down the road from Taos. But don't worry, I'm not going to write about space aliens here. I mean, really, they're much more likely to be where you are than where I am.  The Taos Hum might deserve an explanation, but so far as we can tell, an alien origin to the Hum would be a great Science Fiction story.


Far and remote from the coasts are we. No airline hub here. Nope.  California has 5 counties with populations larger than the entire State of New Mexico.  Texas has 2, New York 2 as well.


Since you'd have to drive about two and a half hours to get to Taos from an airport that has more than one airline, you're probably wondering why 2 million visitors make the effort every year.  Put another way:  You have to really understand why Taos is important in order to make the effort to get here. 


La Posada de Taos was the first B&B in Taos and remains one of the oldest continuously operating in the state.  It's a great business and it's an even more wonderful opportunity to live and be present in such an amazingly beautiful home where our doors are open for visitors to enjoy as their home away from home in this incredible place.  If you want to catch a glimpse of what I'm talking about, check out some of my photos on Facebook:  http://www.facebook.com/r.brad.malone?sk=photos.


In 2007, before I became an Innkeeper in Taos, I began this blog as a forum for both storytelling and social commentary.  Although I'd love to have a political discussion with you, it's inappropriate for an Innkeeper to be harsh or opinionated when his guests are more interested in learning about Taos Pueblo than in discussing the federal deficit.  Washington, D.C.?  Where's that?


My days begin sitting down at breakfast with our guests at La Posada de Taos.  Each day our Chef, my partner Michael, prepares something entirely from scratch.  And each day I set plates of gourmet breakfasts down and then join our guests for a shared meal around the dining room table.  It's a magical time for me.  Meeting folks from all over the world and facilitating their interaction with one another as well as with Taos is a gift.


As I've been honing my storytelling skills at the breakfast table, I've been asked to also share some of them on the blogosphere.


Thus, a blog begins anew.  I've retained a few blog posts about interesting things that happened here in New Mexico in the years or months leading up to our arrival in Taos.  It is my intention, however, not to keep the focus on personal stories and to ultimately relay to you some of the quintessential Taos history that will amaze and, hopefully, entertain you.


The English hadn't even come to the East Coast by the time the American Indian and Spanish Colonials had already settled their boundary disputes in New Mexico.  The history of this region can be traced through tales dating back to pre-history and moving forward through the Spanish era that began over 400 years ago to the immigration of Anglos in the mid-1800's, artists at the turn of the 20th Century and then the Hippies of the late 1960's.


Why Taos, New Mexico? It's a fair question. A lot of Americans don't even know where it is. Some folks out here like it that way. New Mexicans revel in being mistaken as being from somewhere else. It's true that some Americans believe that a passport is required to enter or leave the state. Each month New Mexico Magazine prints a column entitled "One of Our 50 is Missing" featuring stories from citizens who have been, for example, denied insurance coverage ("We don't insure persons or property outside the US.") or unable to pass through TSA Security without first giving passport information.


Albuquerque, with over a million people in its metro area, is the most remote large city in America.  Thus, Taos is even more remote.  It's a town of 5000 people that was described in 2009 by culture critic Dave Hickey in this way: 

In the twentieth century, it has probably produced more serious art and literature than any other non-metropolitan area in the United States, and, throughout this century, Taos' virtues have remained more amenable to producers of art than to it's consumers. It has resisted gentrification. . . 

I'll be getting back to Mr. Hickey's observations in a future post, but suffice it to say that there is no other town of 5000 people like Taos.  It is geographically isolated -- surrounded on three sides by the Sangre de Christo Range of the Southern Rockies.  Trains never came to Taos.  The closest Interstate Highway is over 60 miles away.  There is a old-guard of isolationists who fight hard to keep Taos' unique identity and to prevent it from becoming what many perceive as the horror:  an adobe-themed tourist park similar to Santa Fe.


All the photos included on this site are my own.  You can visit me on Facebook both as an individual and through posts on our B&B's website at laposadadetaos.com.


If you want to know more, or if you're going to be visiting Taos, it is my hope that you can use me as a resource.  It's time to get on with it.  See you back soon, I hope.