A hurricane novela, Episode 1

Every year around hurricane season I feel like I'm watching a novela, with all its suspense and drama. Boat people in Mexico routinely check in on the daily VHF radio net, and although we're currently dirt dwellers, the Capt and I listened in this morning for news of Jimena, the hurricane currently heading more or less our way.

Magdalena Bay on the Pacific coast of Baja, setting of the other San Carlos

For now, Jimena appears to be bound for Magdalena Bay, evolving into a Category 4 as she spins toward another small town named Puerto San Carlos, where folks seem to get more than their share of hurricane wipeouts each year. I can imagine they're a tough lot, ready for anything.

"Quick, Rodrigo! Bring more sandbags, or we'll lose the church!"


Mag Bay is a whale sanctuary, with one of the best beaches in Mexico nearby at Santa Maria. A beautiful place, but unlikely to ever become a year-round expat mecca because the hurricanes, like schoolyard bullies, come around every year to try to beat it back into the Stone Age.

Our San Carlos, on the other hand, is a passel of pusillanimous pansies, mainly because we never get a direct weather hit, only a little spanking with some rain, cool winds and extraordinary but harmless lightning. Then we're back to our normal broiling temps. Some of us might get around to taking down our awnings...

If Jimena sounds familiar, it's because she already skirted the lower mainland where our blogger bud Steve lives on the beach in Melaque, being a brave and romantic fellow and a newcomer to Mexico. She didn't show Steve much excitement, but she was just a young thing then. Now she's a big girl and ready to raise hell.

The AccuWeather map this morning — We are 20 minutes from Guaymas, marked with an X

Our weather guy this morning says Jimena might bring us 50-knot winds, if she crosses Baja and the Sea of Cortez to make landfall on the mainland. But a direct hit on San Carlos is very unlikely. Here's the latest image on AccuWeather, one of many online resources we watch at during hurricane season.

Close behind Jimena is tropical storm Kevin, which, depending on who's guessing, will either help push Jimena across Baja and into our region, or get himself knocked down by Jimena's wind shear.

Tune in tomorrow...

The Weekend In Review

We are scheduled to have another scorcher of a day, the forecast said 110 high for today, however I had another very enjoyable drive to work. No traffic and beautiful weather for top down again.

I'm back on my allergy pills but I think it would really help if I didn't forget to take them. Yesterday in the afternoon I meant to take a nap and winded up sleeping for like five hours, then woke up and caught up with my recorded shows before I went to bed again. Today I feel good and ready to tackle anything that comes my way.

Yesterday was my granddaughter's birthday celebration, I can't believe she is now eight years old. We had a nice time but most importantly the kids had a great time. It was a swimming pool party and the weather was perfect for it. Nachos, punch, and cake were served and I kept seeing people go back for seconds. Can't really go wrong with Nachos bathed in cheese and topped with ground beef and sliced jalapeƱos.

My six year old grand son Diego was hired by me to take pictures of the event, so the following are all his captures.

Nanni's grandma makes the coolest looking and most delicious cakes.


Happy eight birthday Brianna.


Not my favorite of traditions but done time and time again.


Birthday girl!


When you are a kid this is the most exciting moment... the presents!


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Weeding time, confession time

Lately I've been feeling a lot like a galley slave, bent over my oars in the dark hold of the ship, whip cracking over my back.
The slave driver of the Roman ship stared down at his slaves and yelled, I've got good news and bad news.

The good news is that you'll be getting double rations tonight.

The mumbling of the happy slaves was interrupted by the bellowing of the slave driver.

The bad news is that the commander's son wants to water ski.
It's a working Sunday, with phone calls and emails from clients, ads to proof... Deadline is Tuesday. Since my office/workstation is in my bedroom, shared with a king-size bed, the walls begin to close in after a while. Whenever I talk to a grouch, or the screen begins to blur, or I find that nobody is answering the phone, I take a break. It's too hot to go outside, and I can't go too far from the phone, so I've been doing some indoor weeding.

I've gotten pretty ruthless about making things disappear, which is a good thing when you're a thriftstore junkie (Confession #1). Hit the closet, pull out things I'm resigned to never wearing and packing them up in a bag which I will probably donate. Although my friend Ale told me that you can take a bag of clothes to tianguis and somebody will buy them. That's why some tianguis booths have a table-full of stuff, she said. The booth vendor will hang up her own items, and charge 30 or 40 pesos for them, but the stuff on the tables will be five or ten pesos. And sometimes the table stuff is really choice!

Imelda Marcos I'm not, but I'll confess that I have too many shoes (Confession #2). I decided to give away any footwear that is uncomfortable. After almost four years of wearing sandals most of the time here in Mexico, my feet have reverted to the shape God gave them, and they do not conform to shoes with narrow toes anymore. If my feet aren't happy, I'm not happy. Once I wrote an article about Chinese footbinding, and now I think about those generations of women whenever I put on shoes that pinch my toes. They're over it in China now, but guess what's hot in Japan? Toe shoes! I ask you: is there a man on the planet who's worth that?

I took an armload of shirts next door to my neighbor J, who's looking for comfortable work clothes for the maid who cleans the houses J rents. Culled out the books I've read or won't read, to drop off at the library. Dug boxes out from under the bed and from the bodega and pawed through them with a cold and calculating eye. And bingo! I found a couple of missing skirts and my birthday dress from last year! They fit a lot better since I became virtually vegan.

Why is this woman (Mary Louise Parker) smugly smirking? Could it be because she's starring in one of the most addicting series on TV?

Confession #3: I'm addicted to "Weeds" and the only (painless) remedy is to watch it all the way to the season finale, and then forget it at least until Season 6 starts and Nancy Botwin digs herself into even deeper trouble. So I reward myself after several hours of production work and phone calls with another episode or two. One night I watched all of Season 4! It was like reading a novel all the way through in one sitting, except I haven't usually felt so depraved for doing that.

I began by downloading Seasons 1-2 from a Torrent website that took several days and nights to do it and made my Vonage phone sound awful. Then I bought Season 3 from i-Tunes...faster, but it cost money and since I picked the HD version by mistake it was even costlier. And then for Seasons 4 and 5, I found cucirca.com and that was the best deal yet. Free, with pretty good resolution on my big screen when I don't sit too close, excellent sound. What I'm enjoying about the current episodes is all the Mexican influence. Cucirca does have annoying advertising tricks you have to work around, and after 72 minutes you either get cut off for an hour or have to sign up for the paid service.

Instead, I just go back to work.

Images From Wisconsin

Sunset in Wisconsin. Image provided by a friend of mine.


Nice close up but the glare in the eyes takes away from the beauty of this image.


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Friday

As I have said before, I love the weekends but I just think they get here way too fast which now that I'm about to hit the big 5-0 is not to appealing. Can't believe it's Friday again.

This morning I got the car out from the garage and realized that the weather was perfect for top down so I drove in to work topless. Traffic is still very light, even with the kids back to school there are no big traffic jams, it's been a very enjoyable 35 minute drive every morning for the past 8 months or so.

I came in to work to find out there were bagels in the lunch room courtesy of one of our Account Executives. It is always nice to see how some people share the wealth with the support team even during hard times, but also people like this are the ones that normally succeed. I had a cinnamon bagel with regular flavor shmear.

In the saga of Diego's texting, yesterday we found a new target. I dialed my daughter's number and gave the phone to him. He immediately started with the normal phrases he already knows such as "I love you" except he wrote "i love you teeoncol = I love you tia Nichole" next he wrote "i am haflo hiu timithello" (This one I couldn't transalte - lol), then he wrote "i sedtelmiselloyo ised hiy = I said tell my tio Loyiel I said hi" (oh, now I know what he said in the previous text) then he wrote "yes but i amyooseg ni gapfon wino" (I never knew Diego could write German).

NextI know my phone rings and it's Nikki, except the call drops so mi chica calls her for me on her phone and passes it to me.

Nikki: Hi Dad
Me: Hi baby, did you call me?
Nikki: Yes, I did
Me: Did you like texting Diego?
Nikki: Diego? No wonder! Now it makes sense, I though it was you. (Probably thought I had forgotten how to write).


Once I told her the texts were from Diego all of a sudden she could read them. Ummm, we need to find a new target today for Diego to text. Who'll be next?

My allergies are back and are kicking my butt... achoo!

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Water on the brain


The Marina Terra Hotel pool

It's a day for water issues. This morning at 8, I head out with my towel to the local hotel where I have a pool membership I don't use nearly often enough. But the filtration system at the pool is broken again, and I'm directed to the Club de Playa, where I also have swim privileges. But that pool is being cleaned. By now I'm sweating copiously and uttering a few unladylike remarks under my breath, but I soldier on to the next stop, the water store, where I have my bottles refilled.

We're picky about our water bottles, preferring those with handles and screw-on tops. And we like to use our own, having been given in trade many times bottles with slow leaks that we don't discover until we get home. Or days later. I hate to find puddles in my car, on the floor in my kitchen. And most of all, I hate to waste water.

A friendly muchacho cleans my bottles (with soap) and refills them while practicing his English on me. As I'm driving away from the water store, I find the street has flooded just in front of the bank, where a water line has ruptured, I suppose. Gallons are spread out over the asphalt.

Mexico Bob recently sent me a Powerpoint slide show entitled "Sed," which in an entertaining way illustrates the water issue on a global scale. By the end of it I was indeed entertained, but also alarmed (not for the first time). Sort of like watching a good horror movie, a very rare experience. I was able to view it because I'd recently bought OpenOffice, which allows my Mac to read and process PC documents. In addition to providing me with some new facts about the earth's fresh water supply, its subtitles provided a little Spanish practice. Gracias, Bob.

I couldn't possibly entertain as well the slideshow does, but I'll share a few facts to chew on. Or, who knows? Maybe I'm the only person who didn't know all this. But if so, why do so few seem to care?

Our brains are 70% water, our bodies 60%. We can't go more than a week without water. Although most of the planet is covered with water, only 3% is fresh, potable agua and most of that is ice. That leaves us with 0.0007% of the earth's water to drink, flush our toilets, wash our dishes and laundry, and purify for bottled drinking water, etc.

While millions of people elsewhere live on three gallons of water a day, Americans go through about 160 gallons.

I have some friends with a ranch out in the desert, 50 miles from here, who discovered after they'd settled in that there's too much salt in their well water to irrigate most of their plants. So far all they can raise successfully is bouganvillea and olive trees. For everything else, they have to truck in water. They've been desperately investigating desalination, but so far have found nothing affordable, and if they did find anything, it would involved dealing with huge amounts of brine as a byproduct. In another ten years, possibly a lot more landowners are going to be dealing with this problem as salt water intrusion expands.

So I've been thinking about ways to save water. I know anything I come up with would be an infinitesimal drop in the bucket, so to speak, but if enough of us came up with more ideas, and actually put them into practice, maybe we could reach critical mass and it could become cool to save water.

• If you brush your teeth with the tap running, you use four gallons of water. With the tap off, a quarter-gallon. Suppose you had a clean recycled bottle of water, say a quart, in the bathroom that you use to rinse your mouth, and a glass to swish clean your toothbrush?

• By hand-washing dishes, you're just filling the double sink a couple of times at most, if there are a lot of dishes. I know this is not for everyone, but I'm curious how much water a dishwasher uses.

• In Brazil there's a big media campaign with a droll animated video urging people to pee in the shower, that it saves three gallons each time you don't flush. (And yes, I do that. The trick is to do it early on in the shower.)

• I'm wondering how much water Felipe is saving now that he has reduced the amount of grassy area in his lawn just by redesigning it (very attractively, I might add) and paving part of it with stones. Not to speak of the amount of sweat he's saving, not having to mow so much.

• I read years ago that a shower uses less water than a tub bath. That didn't make sense to me. If I stand under a shower for ten minutes, as opposed to a quick five-minute shower with the water off while I'm lathering up, there's bound to be a variable in there somewhere. But a tub is a tub, it holds only so much water (unless you spend three hours in it and refill every half hour or so, but who has that kind of time?)

• Just curious... how much water is reclaimed by each air conditioner, that ends up just flowing outside. It doesn't look like a lot, but what if we could save it?

I've only begun brewing ideas to save water, and I'll share others that I come across. Of course, there are those in the MAWGM (Might As Well Get Mine) camp who maintain that the world is going to run out of water no matter what puny contributions we make toward saving it, so why let everybody else use it up while we deny ourselves? But you could look at it another way: one day the skills we're talking about here might come in handy for survival, when rationing looms.

If you have some good ideas to share, post them on your blog and if they apply to me, I promise to try them. I noticed Steve has water on the brain, too, but his post today is a lot funnier.

Nothing Really Important

Sitting here sipping my coffee and realizing that darn I make a really good cup of coffee. You may say what is so special about making coffee? Trust me, time and time again my coffee will taste good vs. having my daughters make me one. Now restaurant coffee is always really, really good and will probably comes very close to mine. Yep! Mine is better.

Now that you know that little bit of information let's move on. I am really having motorcycle riding withdrawals. Today is one of those days where I opened my garage and saw my FatBoy sitting there a little dusty OK, a lot dusty and I just itched to ride it. Two years has already been too long. Here's my serious commitment I am making right now as I type... Let's get it serviced already, prime riding weather is coming right up and I would love to take advantage of it.

The shows I'm hooked on right now are: Betty la Fea, La Rosa de Guadalupe, America's Best Dance Crew, True Blood, Making His Band. Wow! That's it, not too big a list. I am patiently waiting for the new season of So You Think You Can Dance and Sons of Anarchy and in between I try to catch some good movies here and there.

My grandson is six years old and just started first grade. Today he asked me for my cell phone and asked if he could text his grandma whom by the way was in the same room as us. I said he could and he asked me how to spell a couple of words starting with the word love, I told him L O V E and he quickly pressed on the keys. Then he asked me how to send it so I told him hit the send key and showed him where it was. Mi chica got the text and texted him right back, he understood most of the message she sent him so he sent her another one, and grandma replied. Here's what is amazing to me, I didn't show his how to reply, in a matter of seconds he had figured it out and he texted his grandma for the next half hour. He knew what she was saying and he wrote all his little messages by himself. Mi chica was laughing and showing me how he spelled some of the words, obviously they were wrong but by looking at the letter we knew exactly what he was saying. Totally amazing to me.

TO BE CONTINUED...

I'll add more tidbits as my brain wakes up.

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Over The Hill? Moi?

The weather is starting to cool down, yes it is still a little hot but not as much as before, the trade will be that in the next month we will experience a little more humidity and our skin will get a little more moisture.

I don't think I have mentioned this before but I think today is a good day to do it. Next month I will join the coveted "Over The Hill" gang, the big 5-0 is upon me like nobodies business and mi chica and daughter Michelle have been working on a big birthday bash with DJ, plenty of food, and drinks.

They have chosen a Mexican motif for the fiesta and everything is revolving around anything and everything Mexican, from the food to the drinks to the decor. Of course I don't know Jack about what they are planning or doing, I know what I know because realistically it was impossible for them to keep this completely secret but I'm supposed to be in the dark about things.

Invitations have been sent all over the place, to my biker buddies, to my fellow Mustang club members, to my coworkers, to my karaoke clan, and to all my family and friends, heck one of my dear friends from Mexico may even make the trip to come and join me, to say I am excited is a total understatement.

I'll keep you posted on stuff as more information gets leaked and comes to my attention.

Then the following week right after my fiesta my little sister will also celebrate a milestone birthday (I think it's her 29th... again!) We had been talking about her hosting one of our Photo Exhibitions at her house in California and she came out with the idea of having it on the very day of her party. As most of her friends will be there she feels the frames will get total exposure and I agree. This way even if I don't sell a frame at least we will party hardy.

More on the exhibition and birthday party later on as well.

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The Homestead Museum - Part II


(PART II)

I continued capturing images, one after the other. Inside the houses, on the gardens, the fountain, the rooms, the blown glass, the appliances, etc. Our guide insisted I was the one to open the main door to the new house just so I could feel how heavy it was. The new house was beautifully decorated and looked ready for someone to move in.

After almost a full hour tour we finally said good bye to our guide and we headed towards the cemetery. A few more images and then we finally decided to go home, it is safe to say we were the last ones to leave the place.























All in all, a great tour worth repeating.























As one of the oldest cemeteries in southern California, El Campo Santo contains the remains of the pioneering Workman and Temple families as well as Pio Pico, the last governor of Mexican California. Within its low brick walls, the one-half acre cemetery features a Neoclassical mausoleum and a small cemetery plot surrounded by a Gothic Revival cast-iron fence.

In the early 1850s, the Workmans established El Campo Santo or "the sacred ground" as a cemetery solely for the use of their family. Along with a cemetery plot enclosed by an ornate cast-iron fence, they built a Gothic Revival brick chapel dedicated to St. Nicolas by Bishop Thaddeus Amat of Los Angeles. Among the first to be buried was William Workman's brother David, who was killed in 1855 while driving cattle to the gold fields in northern California.

At the turn of the century, the cemetery was abandoned and its brick chapel destroyed by fire. Walter Temple, a grandson of the Workmans, successfully filed a lawsuit preventing any further desecration of the cemetery. In 1917, he was able to purchase the cemetery and the surrounding 75 acres and began restoration. In place of the chapel, however, he built a cast stone Neoclassical mausoleum and moved the remains of his family inside. He also transferred the remains of Ygnacia and Pio Pico from Calvary Cemetery in Los Angeles, which was being relocated in the 1920s.

Today the cemetery is restored and maintained as a California State Historic Landmark and is open to visitors through a self-guided tour described in the free brochure available at the museum office.

For additional information on the museum.
CLICK HERE!


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She went and got hitched


If, like me, you're following the fascinating author Elizabeth Gilbert whose jackpot hit "Eat. Pray. Love." has made the rounds of most American women (at least the ones I know), you may already to she has 1) a new book coming out, "Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace With Marriage," and 2) she got married.

From remarks in the original book, I got the impression theirs will not be the traditional joined-at-the-hip union; her husband spends time in Australia and Brazil, and she has probably not given up her love of solo travel either. I'm curious whether her newfound writing success (sigh of envy) will have her choosing to go first class instead of backpacking it as she did before. After all, she's reached the ripe old age of 40 now. And she'll have all that paparazzi to fight off.

Let's hope she does get to do some traveling because the couple has moved his import business, called Two Buttons, to New Jersey, of all places!

I never buy new books, being far too cheap to pay hardcover prices and having a great little free library here in town. But I think I'll make an exception in this case. Anyway, I have time to save up, it doesn't come out until January. And I feel profoundly sorry for anyone of the male persuasion or otherwise, who dismisses this author's work as chicklit. You're just going to miss out, amigo.

We Had a Great Time

Yes, I just had to pose by this La Puente landmark.


Buy donuts in a donut, eat a donut inside a donut, make donuts in a donut, or drive through a donut. These are all things that could happen if you are in the La Puente area and go visit this landmark donut shop. I think The Donut Hole has been there since the late 1960s however I couldn't find much history on it. I did however found out that their donuts are supposed to be really tasty. I love donuts therefore I must buy some the next time we visit.

My lil sis and I.


The tour guide at the Homestead Museum was nice enough to take this picture. Even though I only see my sister two or three times a year we are still pretty close. She still refuses to leave California and join the rest of us here in Phoenix. Oh well, her loss. lol

And in the afternoon my nieces joined us for some succulent tacos de lengua. Delicious!


There's nothing nicer than a good ol family dinner. My sister cooked one of my favorite dishes and my nieces all showed up to eat with us. We had a great time. After dinner we started the karaoke machine and there was no stopping us until it was very late, or early depending on how you look at it.

We only had the one day but we really made the most of it.

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The Homestead Museum


So, as I mentioned before I spent all Saturday with my sister. After we rested and she forced me to watch a Cafe Tacuba concert on DVD while she cooked we finally left again at around 3:30 pm in search of more cool images from the La Puente area.

The Homestead Museum is about five minutes away from were she lives also about five minutes away from where I used to live except when I was there I never cared to go visit. So we decided that would be our destination. We got there and I immediately started shooting, my finger was trigger happy I really liked the houses which belonged to the Workman and the Temple families. Only thing is that there was a high protective iron fence that took away from the beauty of the houses.



















There was hardly anybody there, I noticed that they closed at 5:00 pm on Saturday and asked my sister to go and inquire about the guided tours so that we could plan for a next time. A nice lady came out and said if you want I can take you in right now, she usually stopped at 4:00 and it was already 4:15 pm so I immediately said we would love to take the tour.



So she got her key, opened the big gate let us in and locked it again as soon as we walked in, the next 45 minutes we took a trip into history. A history that started when California was still Mexico. She told us all about Mr. Workman, and English man that married a Mexican woman and Mr. Temple whom also married a Mexican woman. (Pretty mart guys I say).

As she started telling us the history of the place, the street names we see when there started to make sense. She was very knowledgeable of the details that such tour required and best of all when I asked if I could take pictures inside the place she said I could take as many as I wanted.



















So what follows will be a pictorial of the Homestead Museum which is located in the City of Industry. I will borrow some of the captions from their website but the images are all mine, so make sure to visit it for more information.


As one of the oldest houses in California, the Workman House survives as a unique testament to the changing architectural styles and domestic tastes of the nineteenth century.

It originally stood as a simple three-room adobe, built shortly after the Workman family's arrival in November 1841. With the success of their cattle ranch, they continued to remodel the house by adding rooms. By the 1870s, new wealth in vineyards and wheat farming allowed them to completely transform the Mexican-era adobe into a modern American house, building a second floor, adding a variety of decorative details, and finishing the outside to resemble brick and stone. Believed to have been designed by early Los Angeles architect Ezra Kysor, the picturesque country home reflects the architectural tastes that were popular in mid-19th century America.

Today the exterior of the Workman House is restored to its 1870s appearance. The interior retains its appearance from the 1950s and awaits restoration. Visitors can see the house by taking a free guided tour.

The Workman House is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and is a California State Historic Landmark.






In 1917, Walter P. Temple and his wife Laura used their wealth from an oil discovery to repurchase seventy-five acres of the family's original rancho. The Temples soon commissioned well-known Los Angeles architects Walker and Eisen and later Roy Seldon Price to construct La Casa Nueva or "the new house." Built between 1922 and 1927, this 11,000-square foot Spanish Colonial Revival mansion is noted for its fine architectural crafts, especially stained glass, ceramic tile, wrought iron, and carved wood. By 1930, the Temple family had lost the house and it became a boys' military school and a convalescent hospital before it was acquired by the City of Industry in the 1970s.

Restored and completely furnished to its appearance in 1928, La Casa Nueva is open for free guided tours that interpret the history of southern California from 1830 to 1930.

La Casa Nueva is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and its landscaping has won regional and state awards from the American Society of Landscape Architects.


(TO BE CONTINUED!)

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My First Hospital Visit Ever

Kudos to Banner Estrella, more than a hospital this place is a place to relax. Too bad reservations have to be submitted only by doctors.

I have not been to work at all this week. On Tuesday I had a colonoscopy done, sounds like fun huh. Well I spent all Monday drinking this ugly substance that towards the end was making me gag. The pharmacist said to drink the whole bottle which was huge, me I thought no problemo so I immediately served me a glass, not a big one but a small one and drank it all in one big gulp.

Boy, that was the beginning of a long Monday afternoon. The procedure was scheduled for Tuesday at 2:30 pm but on Monday morning they called and rescheduled to Tuesday at 10:30 am. I looked at my bottle and it looked completely full. Oh crap, (no pun intended) how in the heck am I going to finish this whole bottle, maybe if it was tequila I could and this considering I am not a drinker but this elixir from hell was just to much.

I started shortening the intervals and kept pushing that horrid elixir that pretty much after the tenth glass was making me gag so bad I though I was going to puke. It had already been a long, long Monday afternoon and at almost midnight I realized that my mouth, and my stomach were not going to accept any more of that so I came to the conclusion that I had had enough.

The next morning we got to the hospital early and got all the paperwork taken care of. Mi chica didn't feel good enough to go to work but she was able to take me to the hospital which to me made all the difference in the world. Now you have to know that I have never ever in my life been admitted to a hospital, I've had no operations and at this point I am not taking any medicine at all. So I went in super calm and relaxed.

The nurses were extremely good, and made me feel so at ease. After I changed my clothes into this sexy gown that by the way took me a long time to figure out how to assemble it I got on the bed and just relaxed. Then the nurse came in and place the caterer on my hand so that I could get some needed fluids, I don't think I need to tell you all what that liquid I was drinking all day on Monday made me do.

By the way she did such a good job that I don't even have a mark on my hand from the needle. Next another nurse came in, she asked me all the pertinent questions again just to make sure that I was me and I didn't have a substitute on the bed ready to take my procedure. Then she proceeded to wheel me into the operations room where the doctor came in and smiled at me while shaking my hand, she told me what the procedure was all about and asked me if I had questions. I said no and then I was mobbed. Before I knew what was happening I had oxygen tubes in my nose and I was being laid on my side with knees bent up and...

That my friends is the last I remember, I didn't feel anything or knew what happened after that, next thing I know is a nurse is passing the thermometer over my forehead and I open my eyes and almost immediately mi chica walks in.

Wow, I felt no discomfort, no pain, not fatigue, but I was a little dizzy. I think 20 minutes later I was on my way home, starving and craving a huge hamburger which my daughter produced some twenty minutes later.

If I'm ever at the hospital again, I hope my visit is as brief and pleasant as this one.

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Still crazy after all these years

Image from Uphaa: "Odd things around the world"

This week marks the 40th anniversary of Woodstock, and I've noticed here and there in the media a halfhearted nostalgia for the olden days.

"If you can remember the Sixties," says the Capt, quoting Robin Williams, "you probably weren't there." But I can remember some...um...high points, and I definitely was there. I have the gray and wrinkles to show for it, along with the memories. Now it can be told: I lived in communes and on open land from time to time, went barefoot as often as possible, grew my hair long. Danced at Altamont, the Left Coast's not-so-utopian version of Woodstock, to the Rolling Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil," unaware some poor fellow was being knifed by Hells Angels fifty yards away. Lived in a two-story treehouse on Lou Gottlieb's open land, cooked over an open fire, hitchhiked, lived on beans and rice with chapati, sweated gallons in sweat lodges, burned a lot of incense, and stayed up all night playing guitar and singing. Consumed illegal substances. Protested the Vietnam War, PCBs and nuclear power. Rooted for alternative energy and dreamed of a farm powered by solar panels and biofuel, surrounded by animals (not for food but for company). Wrote an article about Morningstar Ranch for an alternative commie pinko newspaper, got an unpaid job there and eventually became its unpaid publisher. Never arrested — just lucky, I guess.

What changed for me was having weekly deadlines to meet with the accompanying responsibilities, a son to raise and a subliminal awareness that at some point, the original idea became somewhat obscured by imitators, fads and fascination with the trappings. Stockbrokers kept long-haired wigs and headbands stashed in their Porsches for weekend visits to country communes where free love reigned supreme.

Now we are at a sort of milestone, 40 years since Woodstock, invited to dig up our peace sign earrings, tie-dye shirts and bell-bottoms (if we can still squeeze into them) for a nostalgic fling. If, as the Capt says, you really weren't there, if you weren't even a gleam in your daddy's eye yet, fret not! Wiki-How has a tutorial on How to Be a Hippie. Not only that, but How to be a Cool Hippie, and How to Be a Hippie (Not the Stereotype) and, if your heart's not really in it but you're off to some retro shindig, How to Dress Like a Full-Blown Hippie. Some of the instructions are hilarious, written by someone under 30 who spent a couple of days immersed in films and videos like "Hair," "Easy Rider" and "Alice's Restaurant," and listening to the Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan and Country Joe & The Fish.

Makes me wonder what they'll do when Woodstock turns fifty. Who knows, by then maybe we'll be able to time-warp our way back to the original scene, dude. Far out.

California Here We Are

On our way to California the sun was a very round circle in the horizon.

We left at around 6:30 p.m. my sister in law had her Starbucks on one hand and the steering wheel on the other, me I was only the co-pilot and my nephew enjoyed movies in the back seat of the car. Good daylight for at least another hour or so we started our trek.

I'm used to stopping stop all over the place however on this occasion we only had a pit stop at a rest stop, then drove through a Carl's Jr in Quartzite, and gassed up about an hour away from our destination so all in all we did some pretty good time without speeding.

Now here's a McDonalds were the Golden Arches don't necessarily make and "M"


As always our goal was to get to West Covina on time to eat some Rambo's Tacos. We got there with only like 15 minutes to spare so we were lucky but most of all we were hungry so we got our first taco fix. We wanted to attack them right away but not before taking some pictures with the phone's camera and sending them to Phoenix.

It wasn't until past midnight that we finally made it to our destination, two hours later we were finally hitting the hay or in my case the couch.

I had texted my sister earlier asking if she was game to go on a photo hunt around the area. She told me her complete Saturday was free so she picked me up at around noon on Saturday and we hit the road. On my last post I borrowed an image of The Donut Hole from the Internet, I wanted that to be my first stop as I wanted to photograph it myself.


Here are two of my shots from The Donut Hole. Believe it or not it seems like a busy place, and it has been there forever. You drive through the donut hole to buy your donuts, and if you are fast enough you can eat a donut inside the donut.

Then we continued on to old La Puente. There I captured some interesting street scenes, some colorful trees and even the old movie theater which even though still standing doesn't show movies these days. I hope they don't tear it down.

Landmark theater in Old La Puente.


After a good hour or so of driving around we finally decided to go to my sisters house and made plans to go to the Homestead Museum later on.

I'll tell you all about it on a different post. For now just enjoy some of the images I captured.





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