¡Feliz, pacifico y próspero año nuevo!

You can have the champagne and the hangover. The custom of making resolutions—or if you're in Mexico, wishes or deseos—is the big reason I'm a fan of New Year's Eve. An avid listmaker, that's me. I recently discovered a website called Day Zero for making major lists, itemizing plans ranging from the very small ("Fix the tires on my bike") to the grand-scale ("Discover the interior of Mexico this year"...probably NOT on the bike).

Times have changed from the days when I'd scribble my lists on a scrap of paper, only to lose them.

So tonight at midnight I'll have a little bowl with twelve red grapes, one for each stroke of midnight, though my clock doesn't make a nice loud "bong" with each stroke.

My deseos will be written down in advance so I don't choke on a grape while trying to think up a wish.
In fact, I'm so organized this year, my list is all done:
1) Get Tim's book published.
2) Memorize every song on my songlist (over 100 of them, some already memorized).
3) Learn how to record and upload songs and put them here on the blog.
4) Learn how to use tools and work with bricks, tile, wood and other materials so I can build and fix things.
5) Find a group helping the orphanages—Castaway Kids, Las Madrinas—and work with them.
6) Bring back the muchacha who loved to draw, paint, dance and write stories, and let her play.
7) Teach myself simple chords on the piano so I can accompany myself (my singing coach Chrys says it can be done).
8) Rejoin the dance group I had to drop out of last year, and learn to cha-cha, rumba and samba.
9) Start a container garden in my tiny front yard: lettuce, grape tomatoes, herbs...
10) Go kayaking in the Bay.
11) Take my Nissan Quest on a quest to discover the interior of Mexico.
12) Re-establish the writing group.


The custom of sweeping out the house at midnight has some appeal, though I also like how the Chinese do it: they spend the whole day cleaning so the house shines on New Year's Day, and I think they always use a new broom.

As for the red underwear that's supposed to improve my love life, I've just discovered to my chagrin that I was doing it all wrong: it has to be given to me, and it has to be new!  I can't just dig last year's pair out of the drawer. So I guess I need to shanghai a friend, take her shopping and when we both find some red knickers, we'll simply swap.

But then, the yellow undies that bring prosperity might be a better choice. Maybe somewhere there's a pair of red and yellow polka-dotted ones waiting for me.

Wa-wa-wa-wahhhhh

I hope to do this tomorrow night too, maybe fifties style with the Sahlens for backup. Such fun!

Once in a Blue Moon

A full moon New Year's Eve awaits us all tomorrow night, bearing all kinds of portent and heavy significance. It's in Cancer, my sign, and they're calling for an eclipse just to make it more dramatic.


This will also be a Blue Moon, since it barely squeaks by as the second full moon in the same month. That moldy oldie "Blue Moon" will be looping through my brain all day. Talk about a night to howl!

For a couple of days I've been practicing three songs to sing in Spanish and English at La Palapa's Open Mic with Los Cuatos (The Twins) and their band on New Year's Eve. The big challenge, since there's no rehearsal, is that I have to guess where to come in, whether they want an instrumental break, how they usually end the song (do I repeat the last line, do they slow down for the last note?) If I asked these questions, would it make me appear impossibly amateurish? It's possible by the time I get onstage everyone will have become so plastered they won't hear me anyway. Vamos a ver. 

Yesterday V and I visited Tim at the hospital and he is, if possible, even thinner than before. He is refusing to take nourishment, either because he is attempting to hurry the process he's going through or because being fed through a feeding tube is such a grotesque experience. When we asked about it, he said he'd have it later. He is still taking sips of water. He wears his mask all the time now and we found it hard to understand him when he talked, so he tried to shout, which left him exhausted.


Staff often paused at the door to peer in at him. "Now that they know I'm dying, I'm getting vigilancia," he said, with a wry grin. The head floor nurse had ordered vigilance on this patient two weeks ago, but until now they weren't taking the order seriously. We all wondered if the presence of his laptop sitting beside him had anything to do with the increased attention.


He seems to be viewing his death as a sort of finish line. He asked me to fish his watch out of his drawer, and then ruminated for a while over who he'd give it to. His watch had become very important to him. V and I each took a foot and gave him foot massage, which made him smile, but it's hard to tell whether he is giving us the reaction we're hoping for in order to show his gratitude for our visits, or whether touch actually feels good to him. His feet were icy cold. Mostly we alternated between fussing over him and sitting quietly, holding his hands, while he stared at the ceiling.

A teenage orderly came in with a bag of canned nutrient (pretty much the same as Ensure) and an invoice, which we were expected to pay. We checked Tim's cabinet and found almost a dozen identical cans there, so we sent the orderly away, telling him we didn't need any more. Apparently the hospital includes solid-food meals in its services, but the liquid used in the feeding tube is considered an extra item. We found quite a few unopened tubes of mysterious ointments and unguents which he never used, and wondered how much they'll add to his bill.  They seem to run an average of $35 each. Mexican hospitals don't release patients until their bills are paid, but that's one worry Tim won't be troubled with.

Mi Chica My Love

.

Feliz Cumpleanos, Tim

My pet gecko started up the wall as I was booting up the 'puter this morning, but when he spotted me he made a hasty exit. He hasn't yet become quite as fond of me as I am of him. He lives somewhere in the dark corner behind my computer desk and occasionally makes a brave dash up the wall to hide behind the air conditioner, where I hope he finds a smorgasbord of bugs. He's not green like the Geico gecko, and if he could talk he'd probably sound more Mexican than British, but otherwise they're just alike. He's about five inches long, and has no distinctive spots, patterns or bumps on his pinkish gray skin that I've been able to make out, but then he doesn't stick around for close inspection. I've been thinking of a name for him, something that would still fit if he turned out to be a she. Coy?

This is about as close a resemblance to my little guy as I've seen on the Internet, but I don't remember any bumps on the tail.

Time to step away from the computer. In about a half hour I'm going to Hermosillo to see Tim. T saw him yesterday and found out today's Tim's 62nd birthday, so I printed out a photo of an osprey for him. He wants chicken soup, but when T attempted to take him a batch of homemade, the guards refused to allow it. Those guys are real tyrants, but they never look in purses, so that would be the way to smuggle it in. No time now to make it, but I'll send some in a purse-size container with whoever visits him tomorrow.

Carols on demand

They take requests. They don't know them all, but then they're "just little kids." Ugly ones, too.

http://www.sundog.net/carolofthechins/flash/card.swf

Where's the pony?

I was troubled all day yesterday over the decision not to bring Tim home, alternating between aimless fretting and chiding myself that I should just do something on my own to rescue him. Last night my friend C told me about a group of American-funded Franciscan monks here in Guaymas who could supply resources, but not a place to take him.


"Let's just go get him," C urged, but we finally settled on just talking to the Franciscans today, to find out just what they could do for Tim. 


My spooky horoscope today:

You may feel like a mother hen as you attempt to care for those in your family or community. But nurturing others can be taken too far, especially if your meddling is unwanted. Acting on your loving feelings could help significantly as long as you aren't sticking your uninvited nose into someone else's business. Don't assume anything today; ask before you eagerly jump in with your assistance.

M, a member of Team Tim, spent some time with him at the hospital yesterday and this morning she sent an email to the Team about their conversation. He said "that just being moved from the bed to the chair and back confirmed to him that he was in no condition to leave," and that he is at peace with the decision to spend his last days in the hospital. He is now receiving only pain medications,  and he can still drink juice so M brought him a fresh supply.


They talked about "what animal or bird, etc. we would be if we were going to be reincarnated or wanted people to think of us when they saw that creature.  He said he would be an Osprey (sea hawk he called it)."


Saturday the Capt and I are going to the hospital, and I've been Googling palliative and "end-of-life" care to see if there's anything I can take to him or do for him while I'm there. This is all so alien to me. Somehow I have lived six decades without ever being in this situation before. But I know there's a gift here somewhere, a pony in this pile of manure. 

But for a moment I'll lay aside my shovel and make a wish for all of you:

La paz sea con vosotros

May peace be with you

The roller coaster

This past week has been an emotional roller-coaster, mostly involving Tim, and everything else, including Christmas, has faded into the background. Last night the roller coaster took a huge plunge and I watched everything change in the course of a single meeting.


After three doctors gave Tim his diagnosis a couple of days ago, we no longer talked in terms of his recovery. Tumors in both lungs and the esophagus have developed too far to be treated, and he was told he has at most six months to live. Most medics familiar with this type of cancer estimate much less time. A feeding tube was inserted since he can no longer swallow, and we began to mobilize to bring him home to San Carlos.


I visited a local Catholic hospital, said to be one of the best, but soon realized we didn't have the funds to afford it. But we had another option: a vacation home five minutes from my place, where he would be comfortable. I found a private nurse and interviewed a woman who could clean and spend most of the week with him, figuring I could sleep over most nights. I don't have nursing or hospice skills, and I asked myself a number of times how I could get over my queasiness and take on this unfamiliar role, but I was convinced that what I don't know I could learn from the nurse. At least, I thought, he would get the attention he needs for the bedsores and a number of other details we felt were being ignored at the hospital.


I was looking for a hospital bed, an IV stand, foam pad, sources for morphine and oxygen...


But last night Team Tim got together, at least those of the group here in town, and in less than an hour everything changed. A former nurse went into grueling detail about what could be expected in caring for a terminal cancer patient, and a someone else pointed out that the hospital didn't have to discharge him. Then the consensus quickly swung in the direction of leaving him in the hospital. Some said they'd visit him regularly, with one of his friends promising to drive up on Christmas Day and take his laptop and some DVDs.


I had nothing much to say, being overwhelmingly outvoted. I don't have much faith in the overworked, underpaid hospital staff and worry that his bedsores, already very painful, will get much worse if they don't regularly help him shift positions. While everyone on the Team is tentatively volunteering to visit him on a regular basis, I wonder how long before they start forgetting Tim. Out of sight, out of mind.

A friend called Tim this morning and explained the decision, and Tim finally agreed that he's probably better off where he is, mentioning he had a long talk with one of his doctors last night. But I can't help but wonder if the individuals in this group would make the same decision for a spouse or best friend. This I know for sure: I wouldn't want such a choice to be made for me.

Another Team Tim Update

Tim, in better times. Photo from an anonymous friend, posted on Viva San Carlos

Christmas traffic in Hermosillo (Sonora's biggest city, where every big box store in Mexico can be found) is not for the faint of heart. Yesterday my friend Vera and I drove there to visit Tim, and found there are a whole new array of construction detours to make the trip even more adventurous.


Because there are so many different people coming in to see Tim, his name is well-known at the check-in table where visitors surrender their drivers' licenses and get directions to his room. Martin, a friendly guard, walked me to the new room, a much cleaner and better-equipped space directly across from the nurses' station, where the bed has a remote control instead of the old style crank that had to be operated by a nurse or visitor.


I have never seen a living person as thin as Tim is now. He has bedsores, which are making it even harder for him to sleep. Because of the tumors, he has difficulty swallowing, and doesn't even touch the solid food the hospital serves. He is living on juice and Ensure (smuggled in by visitors) and whatever nutrition he's getting via IV. He was promised a diagnosis by Thursday afternoon but is still waiting. His doctors have all but stopped coming around, so it's difficult for us to get a chance to talk with them about his treatment. We can't help but wonder if they've just given up on him.


Although visitors are limited to one at a time until 3pm, Vera somehow sweet-talked the guards into letting her come up to his room too, and together we devised a pad out of an extra sheet that he said was more comfortable than the bandages the nurses had been taping onto his backside for the bedsores. We checked his supplies of Ensure, bottled water and juice and made sure he could reach what he needs. There is no call button, so he has to shout if he needs a nurse, and shouting is no longer an option for Tim. We made a quick trip to the pharmacy and bought some baby powder, hoping it would help keep him more comfortable. When we got back to his room he was asleep at last, so we wrote him a note and tiptoed out.


The good news: A large contribution to his medication and hospitalization account came in yesterday on the PayPal account, which gives us hope that when the time comes we'll be able to pay his bill, check him out of General Hospital and buy his medications. One of his friends has offered the use of his house, and will pay for a nurse to take care of him if he no longer needs to be in the hospital. 


I just finished the first pass at editing Tim's book, Maya Gold, so I can go back and get to work on rewrites. Yesterday when we talked about a particularly action-packed passage in his novel, Tim's eyes lit up. For just a moment his pain and boredom and discouragement were forgotten.

Santa Must Be a Fellon

All through the month I've been having the Christmas Spirit and have been loving every minute of it. Certainly since we started our Bible Studies with my sister I've been seeing things from a different perspective. The true meaning of Christmas is alive and well but the commercialization of the season tries hard to over power it.

I remember growing up in Los Angeles, every year during Christmas Broadway boulevard in downtown L.A. was lit with colorful lights. Whittier boulevard was lit as well, cruising this famous place during December really got you in a Christmas mood, and just like those two streets there were many more throughout the city that also expressed with those beautiful displays of lights that we were celebrating something grand.

Now as a society we are losing respect for each other's customs and beliefs and in a world that demands political correctness people are not practicing some of these customs because of the risk of being sued for offending someone else. A principal at a local high school here in Phoenix banned any and everything Christmas related on campus and in the school, he simply didn't want to offend anyone.

Today a friend of mine from our car club was escorted out from an annual Christmas event called Glendale Glitters in the city of Glendale, Arizona. His crime was to be dressed as Santa Claus, yes you read it right, he dressed as Santa Claus and was kicked out of a Christmas event. Glendale Glitters is not an indoors event, it happens in the streets of Glendale.

As I was store hopping today I saw a few cars with these little reindeer antlers on their windows, I also saw a car with a red fuzzy ball tied to its grill, yes this car was impersonating Rudolph, I also saw a biker riding on a full dresser Harley dressed completely as Santa Claus. I truly hope cops won't start stopping people for daring to celebrate something we have been celebrating for centuries, something every body of every religion and of every part of the world knows as Christmas because for some odd reason to some is "offensive".

Because the Christmas season brings happiness to my heart and because I love my fellow man I wish a Merry Christmas to all and to all a Happy New Year. And if this simple warm wish of goodness and kindness offends anybody out there, believe me when I say that it's not my intention at all. Stop the insanity before it's too late and let future generations live and enjoy what for generations has been a beautiful custom.

.

Just because you're paranoid...

 ...doesn't mean nobody's out to get you.


Is it just me, or is everyone getting an unprecedented amount of spam lately? And some of it's a little scary. I LOVE comments. But lately, I'm finding quite a few messages in what looks like Arabic and Asian script, which I initially rejected simply because I doubt any of my readers would understand them. And there was the lurking suspicion the translations might be alarming. If I published it, would I be calling for jihad? Do you know how hard it is to find oriental translators in Mexico?

And even though I have a fairly strict filter on my email, I've been getting more spam there than usual. Of course, the tired old pitches from banks in Nigeria, and letters expressed in overly formal (using Mr. or Mrs. before their names) or affectionate terms ("My dear friend," from someone whose name I don't recognize, for instance).

But today I was especially jolted when I got this email, sent to my business address. I've received one very much like it before, so I didn't take it seriously. But the last name of the sender is very unusual, and it's the name of one of our oldest business clients.  She's one person I would probably be moved to help out. All I'd have to do is call her at her store, and clear this up, but I started wondering if I'm being hacked! The client's name doesn't appear in our publication, only in our database. Was it just a lucky guess, or are the bad guys escalating their strategies? Yikes! I'm starting to get nostalgic for the olden days when all I got was ads promising to enhance body parts I don't have.

Hi, Its me Niki , I really don't mean to inconvenience you right now, I made a little trip to UK and I misplaced my passport and credit cards, please I know this may sound odd, but it all happened very fast. I need to get a new passport, and get on the next available flight home. I've been to the US embassy, they're willing to help, but I'm out of cash and I have minimum access from here. Can you loan me some money and I'll be willing to repay you as soon as I get home. Please reply as soon as you get this message, so I can forward the details as to where to send the funds, you can try reaching me on this number for now, ---------------, I also have an ID to pick the funds up if sent via western union

i will be waiting for responses

Update On Mi Chica

I haven't been here commenting lately but with mi chica not feeling so good and having to rush her to the hospital things have been a little crazy. I normally don't blog a lot about the down times, I've concentrated more on our family gatherings and the good times but it's good to let friends know about what's going on.

Other than having high blood pressure and high cholesterol which she has been taking medicine forever, mi chica has always been pretty healthy, or at least as healthy as a smoker can be. The beginning of 2009 brought new health issues to her that she was not expecting. At first all the doctors said she had vertigo, then it was something else, eventually it was decided she suffers from migraine headaches.

All throughout the year she has been fighting these headaches, for a few months she wasn't even allowed to drive as the medicine she was prescribed would make her drowsy. Thanks to a few guardian angel friends that would come and pick her up she was able to go to work although many times I was called to go pick her up.

Eventually she started driving once again and was even able to drive herself home when the pains started. We sorta got used to the situation and adapted to it but this past Sunday while watching Christmas movies and without much warning she started feeling dizzy and had an upset stomach that eventually made her pass out. Passing out wasn't really a part of the routine so off to the hospital we went.

As soon as she told the doctors that she suffers form migraines they said that what just had happened was migraine related, I wonder if she had said she had vertigo they would have said oh it's vertigo related. It's frustrating because it doesn't seem that they (the doctors) really look for a diagnosis. So after a three hour stay in the emergency wing we were being sent home. "Follow up with your doctor" is all they said.

Monday she still couldn't go to work so she stayed home and we had a fairy uneventful day, Tuesday however after I came home from work she called me to the office, she was trying to log on the computer and her left hand got numb and she couldn't move some of her fingers. I massaged it a bit and eventually (some 30 minutes later) the feeling came back, not completely but for the most part except this time she looked at her arm and kindda panicked because she noticed her veins were getting darker almost black.

That was the deciding point, five minutes later we were in a super packed hospital, just to be taken in took about two hours. She was asked why she was there and she explained about the numbness etc. etc. and then she told them about how her veins were getting black. The doctor concerned looked at her arm and immediately said, ummm are these the black veins your are talking about, looks more like tape outline to me, the nurse cleaned her arm with a piece of cotton soaked in alcohol and presto black veins were gone.

Ha, ha, the joke was on us... or was it? The tape from the IV from Sunday night didn't completely washed off therefore brought us in but as you know God works in mysterious ways. She was to be admitted except there was an influx of sick people. The hospital started sending many of them to Thunderbird Hospital as there were no available beds, Thunderbird got full as well so they started sending them to Good Sam Hospital. So, at around 7:00 am an ambulance transported her to Good Sam, where she was admitted in the transition area immediately.

It wasn't until around 6:00 p.m. that she was finally moved to a room. We are hoping she will be released tomorrow, they have done an MRI, cat scans, eco or echo tests and many more things. The MRI showed that she in fact had suffered a mini stroke and they told us that it was good we had gone in to emergency. Thank God for tape residue that looked like black veins.

Now they are finally looking into other areas other than the headaches. We believe in the power of prayer and I know that God has been listening to all of you out there. No matter how small you think your prayer may be God will listen to it so keep them coming.

I'll give you another update soon. Love ya all.

.

Best App Ever? Quite Possibly.

My sister-in-law and her culinary Hercules of a mother win the award for Best Thing I Have Eaten at a Holiday Party this year. A coveted trophy, I know. Anyway, it’s Brie -- with dulce de leche. Great Jeebus! Why have we never thought of this before?! Simple, beautiful, and mind-blowingly delicious, this alluring app draws people in like a siren song on crack. For reals. Add it to the bar, buffet, or coffee table of your choosing to impress guests with your gastronomic genius. Party on, my friends!


Sweet Brie with Pecans
-- Slide a round of Brie onto a serving plate.
-- Spread a generous amount of dulce de leche evenly on top.
-- Garnish with toasted pecans in a fancy-schmancy pattern.
-- Serve at room temperature with the wafers of your choice.
-- Stand alongside your creation to accept the praise forthcoming.

What’s the best thing you’ve eaten at an event this year? As the holiday season prepares for its culminating events, perhaps someone will compile these goodies into a festive pantheon of savory and sweet delights and INVITE ME over to chow.

A Festivus miracle, indeed.

Team Tim Update

Sorry, this post isn't for the squeamish. But there's good news from the hospital in Hermosillo where our friend Tim has now been waiting for a diagnosis for two weeks. The final cancer/no cancer discovery is supposed to be reported today, but analysis of the fluid from his lungs doesn't show any cancer cells. His spirits improved immensely when he heard about that. A tumor has been detected, and he had a second biopsy to analyze it.

He's looking more chipper and loves having company. For a few days he was in a four-bed room, but they've moved him to a single room near the nurses' station now. He can't eat solid food, though he dreams of ham sandwiches. Apparently all he can handle is Ensure and juice, which they don't provide at the hospital, so essentially his friends are keeping him fed. A nurse named Beatriz is beginning to pay more attention to his hygiene, giving him sponge baths, washing his hair, and shaving him. This is a big improvement over the Guaymas hospital, where he went for five days without so much as a wash. Location, location, location.

What he really wants is his laptop so he can watch DVDs, but we're hesitant to take it to him. Just one good nap, or a trip to X-ray, and he might never see it again. I thought I might take mine in, set him up with a movie, sit with him and then take it away when the movie's over. I'm going to take him some flan, perhaps another book on disk, and some guanabana juice, which my maestra Lolita researched...it's said to have qualities similar to chemo but much more benign.

Let's hear it for Blogger Power! Our PayPal account for Tim's medicine has collected $200 USD, and I'm taking it Saturday to deposit in his fund at the hospital. Here's a big cyberhug for Bob, Miguel and Mark, and welcome to Team Tim!

Just For Fun

This is a cute idea. Copy this note, ask your child (In this case my child is 25 years old --- lol) the questions and write them down exactly how they respond. Leave me a comment if you have done this, I’d love to hear the answers!

1. What is something Dad always says to you? How about... Hi my baby! Or Hi Princess!

2. What makes Dad happy? Me of course! :)

3. What makes Dad sad? Dad is to cheerful to be upset but I would say maybe if his kids disappoint him.

4. How does your Dad make you laugh? Dancing. He does it out of nowhere and usually it's the funniest moves. Now I know where I must get that from. But when isn't he making me laugh?

5. What was your Dad like as a child? The same as he is now... Loving, Making people happy, Dancing, Silly

6. How old is your Dad? Half a Century!

7. How tall is your Dad? Not very tall

8. What is his favorite thing to do? Play with his Grandkids... and Karaoke... and Blog... and Love Me!

9. What does your Dad do when you’re not around? Rest! Haha!

10. If your Dad becomes famous, what will it be for? Singing!

11. What is your Dad really good at? Dancing

12. What is your Dad not very good at? Enunciating

13. What does your Dad do for her job? Email me and blog... Just kidding! He's a warehouse manager.

14. What is your Dad’s favorite food? Tacos! Of any kind... meats, eggs, beans.

15. What makes you proud of your Dad? He's the most AMAZING man I know. He just has so much love and everything about him is positive. Seriously he's like the best person ever.

16. If your Dad were a cartoon character, who would she be? Joe Cool!

17. What do you and your Dad do together? Anything... he loves spending time with us. Me and my Dad are both very creative so anything that has to do with creating, designing, DIY stuff.

18. How are you and your Dad the same? I keep saying him and I are like twins... just ask my Mom. We're both spoiled :) We're both lazy. We both love to sleep and eat. We love to take pictures. We like sight seeing and having lots of family time. I mean I can go on and on.

19. How are you and your Dad different? Well we're not the same person for one... but I have to say my Dad thinks through all his decision and choices where as I sometimes forget that... Haha!

20. How do you know your Dad loves you? Because I am the apple of his eye... he tells me ALL THE TIME!

21. Where is your Dad’s favorite place to go? Manny's to karaoke? Or maybe Hobby Lobby cuz I love going there with him.

Michelle, these made me laugh. But I'm not lazy atl all. lol

.

Mi Chica

On Sunday night while watching Christmas movies and almost towards the end of the one we were watching mi chica asked for a small brake as she wasn't feeling too good, the next minutes happened too quick and to tell you the truth they were blurry at best. Mi chica had gone to the rest room, the next thing I heard was a faint "Joe" and the next thing we know is I'm rushing her to the hospital. Her blood pressure went so low that she even passed out. I know it wasn't a good feeling for her poor thing but it wasn't a good feeling for me either. Trust me, acting like a chicken with no head is no fun.

With all the medication she takes, it seems when she starts with a new one which she did the day before something always happens. While at the hospital the medication she was given made her feel cold inside, so no matter how many covers we put on her she would still be cold. After a cat scan and the medication her blood pressure returned to a "normal" level and after making sure she could walk without getting dizzy she was released.

It was a nice feeling to see her in her bed under the covers feeling all nice and warm and resting like nothing had happened. In one way or another she has been fighting migraines all year long, it has not been a good year for her. I pray that next year is not as bumpy as this one was, and if you are up to it don't be shy and join me, I have always know that the power of prayer is very strong.

.

Shark-smitten

Last night our old friend Jim Barden put on a benefit performance of his evermore-famous Roy Orbishark Show at the Captain's Club, to help raise money for Doug, a cancer patient facing an expensive series of treatments. It was a smash hit! In the course of 111 performances, Barden has developed an array of characters, from Roy himself, a shark puppet dressed like Roy Orbison who lip-syncs his songs with a big helping of soul, to Ray Charles, a manta ray in sunglasses with his own version of "Hit the Road, Jack" complete with backup mammas, and Eelvis Presley doing "Little Egypt" with a...um...stripper puppet.

Someone sitting right behind me videotaped the show and uploaded it to YouTube but a spoilsport cut out the audio. So in order to share the full experience, here's a performance Barden did in the cockpit of his boat, Ann Marie, in a slip at El Cid Marina in Mazatlan. It's Orbishark doing "Blue Bayou" with a backup of two clams.

Barden showed us a very poorly shot black and white video of the show four years ago, that didn't do it justice. The audience—all adults—was kept in stitches with a series of hilarious gags. At one point buckets of practice golfballs were passed around and we were invited to throw the balls at Roy, while he sang "Love Hurts." What we weren't told was that Roy would be throwing them back!

I just hope I get a chance to see Show #112, and I have my camera with me!

La Guadalupana

It's clear to me from my fuzzy photos that I need to get more practice shooting my camera at night. But at least last night I had the camera with me, and that's a start.

Our San Fernando church choir provided the music for the Guadalupe mass late last night, outdoors under the street lights in a beautiful setting in front of the church. Not by choice, but from necessity. The church's main sanctuary was destroyed when its dome collapsed during Hurricane Jimena. So we bundled up in red rebozos and scarves and sat in little folding chairs, with Lolita, our maestra, sitting at a tiny keyboard desperately trying to keep her sheet music from blowing away. The padre, standing on a dais in front of the grotto with Mary's statue towering over him, wasn't very warm in his usual white vestments and he made jokes about the cold, but when he talked about losing our "casa" he was close to tears. San Fernando is the oldest and grandest church in Guaymas, but except for some intact outer rooms it's an empty shell, perhaps for years.

The Guadalupe mass traditionally includes mariachi, and I was not disappointed when a band showed up for their annual blessing, not in the usual mariachi suits but looking a little ragtag, like laborers on their night off. Which they may have been.  I was so pleased that I remembered at least the first two verses of "Las Mañanitas."

Afterward the choir packed up our music and trooped over to Lolita's house, a block away, for menudo and buñuelas. Lolita pulled off her black poncho and modeled her special Guadalupe outfit, aglow with sequins and satin ribbons. We sat around the living room singing, and I was thrilled to join in when they got to my favorite song, "Sabor a Mi."  

The buñuelos were crisp and the menudo was superb, prepared by Malena, Lolita's housekeeper. "¡Que rico!" I said, "I don't care what's in it,  ¡muy sabroso!"

Before I left, Lolita asked the name of my friend in the hospital so they could say special prayers for him. So, Timoteo, if you start to feel a little better, thank the choir of San Fernando.

Feliz Dia de Guadalupe, amigos!

La Guadalupana

La Virgen de Guadalupe a National Symbol

The key figure in acceptance of the Catholic religion by the indigenous peoples of Mexico was the Virgin of Guadalupe, whose story goes back to 1531, just twelve years after Hernan Cortes first set foot on Mexican soil. On December 12, 1531, as the story goes, a poor Indian named Juan Diego was walking along in a desolate area north of Mexico City, seeking water for his uncle. Suddenly, on a hillside, he saw a vision of a beautiful woman, who directed him to a spring of fresh, cool water. A few days later, in the same spot, the vision appeared again to Juan Diego. This time, she instructed him to go to Mexico City to tell the high church officials to build a church in her name on that site. Of course, the ecclesiastical officials did not believe the poor Indian. Why would the Virgin Mary appear to someone so lowly? They asked for proof. When Juan Diego returned to the hillside and the Virgin appeared again, he asked her for a sign. Suddenly he saw some beautiful red roses, even though roses do not normally bloom in that area in December. He gathered them into his rough Indian tilma (blanket) and took them to Mexico City. When he opened his tilma for the high church officials, they fell to their knees in veneration and amazement. There, imprinted on the humble Indian blanket of Juan Diego, was the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, exactly as Juan Diego had seen her. It is said that the image is so perfect in detail that one sees in the pupil of the Virgin's eye the image of Juan Diego.

Today, thousands of devout Catholics make pilgrimages each year to the huge Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe, in the northern part of Mexico City, to view from a discrete distance the image of the Virgin imprinted on Juan Diego's blanket and to worship with Catholics from around the world. Pilgrims may also worship at a small shrine on the very hillside where Juan Diego first saw the vision.

Rich and poor alike venerate the Virgin of Guadalupe. One can see her image in small shrines in humble homes in the most remote villages. Her image can also be found in virtually every cathedral and church in Mexico, as well as in parochial schools, businesses, markets, buses, taxis, and many homes. December 12, the day of Virgin of Guadalupe, is an official national holiday, observed with pilgrimages, processions, special masses, fiestas, and Indian dances in front of some churches. In a sense, the Virgin of Guadalupe represents the essence of Mexico, the fusion of two cultures, Catholic Spain and indigenous Mexico. http://literacynet.org/lp/hperspectives/guadalupe.html

Watching "Las mañanitas a la Virgen" in Univision I couldn't help but be amazed and mesmerized at how us Mexicans deposit so much faith in our Virge of Guadalupe. It was said that at the Shrine of our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City 90,000 people passed in front of her altar per hour. On this day more than a million people make heir way to the shrine and to her. "La Morenita" as she is called by many is our liaison to get our petitions to her son Jesus Christ.

Ever since I was a little kid I have been faithful to her and have asked her for too many favors, luckily for me she never gets tired of listening. Today is a special day indeed.

Viva la Virgen de Guadalupe!

.

Just when it's looking grim...

The good news is that a friend of mine down in La Paz on his boat read this blog and wants to make a contribution to Tim's care. So I started a PayPal account for Tim. Monday I'll see about getting some pesos into his pharmacy fund at the hospital, which should be an interesting test of my Spanish proficiency. 

In the space of a couple of hours I have gone from being helpless and hopeless about my friend to feeling a comforting assurance that there's actually something I can do for him. As my friend Mexico Bob says, "Ya gotta do whatcha gotta do."

My horoscope today (which I read after I started Tim's account):

Service as an Opportunity

You may feel kindhearted and compassionate today, which could lead you to offer assistance to friends or family members. You can deepen the richness of these experiences for others and yourself by choosing to see your service as an opportunity to spread some positive energy to those who need it.

Dimming hopes

The doctors in charge of our friend Tim at the Hermosillo General Hospital have found a tumor in his lung.  When one of us called Tim, he says, "He could barely talk."

Someone who had committed to visiting him Wednesday didn't go, and didn't tell anyone he wasn't going until the end of the day. Two people who were of great help have had to leave Mexico to take care of sick relatives in the States. 

The drugs he's taking by IV have to be paid for daily, and we established an account in the financial office so a nurse can get the funds, buy the drugs from the pharmacy downstairs and then refill the IV, but we have to check regularly to make sure this is being done and the funds haven't run out. He's already dipping into his savings, his cash consisting of only an advance payment on a boat repair job he isn't able to oversee now.


A visitor could help him wash and brush his teeth, but he's too proud to ask for help and some friends are unaware of what he needs.

We put together an Mp3 player loaded with a Ludlum spy thriller for him so he has something to escape the dreary hospital, at least in his head. We brought him bottles of Ensure and little boxes of juice after he said that he has trouble eating solid food.

Nobody wants to stay with him after five,  because they don't want to drive the hour home after dark.

Meanwhile, his beloved Podin has become a problem for the caretaker, who boards dogs for a living and took him in for free. In his anxiety he bit one of her clients, and ruined objects in her house. So we are trying to find an alternative for a dog the size of a Shetland pony.

I apologize for this dreary post. We all knew this would eventually happen, but still I'm sad, disappointed and worried.  Team Tim seems to be fumbling the ball.

As I Reflect on This Year

Well what do you know winter decided to show up here in Phoenix after all, for a moment there I thought I would be able to wear shorts all the way to the end of the year but apparently that won’t be the case. I am a light weight when it comes to being cold which is one of the main reasons I love Phoenix so much so when the temperature drops anywhere below 60 degrees to me it’s already too cold. Then again this is Phoenix, which also means that we may be surprised by hot weather next week. It could happen you know, one day it's cold then the next is hot.

As I reflect on this troubled year and what it brought to many, I realize how blessed I am to have a job and to still have to a certain extent the peace of mind that comes with being employed. Yes we did lose certain benefits that we were used to but trust me that was an easy adjustment compared to the alternative.

Moving forward to the new decade clearly the one with for 2010 is for things to pick up and for the economy to start stabilizing in some way, we all know it won't happen overnight but it is up to us to start making things happen, together let's get those wheels of progress moving again.

.

La Guapa Senorita

 I never thought I'd go to bat for a pit bull, but this 7-month-old mixed-breed brindle pup has a lot going for her, as long as she gets good training. She was rescued during Hurricane Jimena, and has been fostered in a loving home the past three months. She's house-trained, leash-trained, fully vaccinated and has her papers so she can be adopted in the States or Mexico. Her sponsors say she's very friendly and sweet-natured, besides being exceptionally pretty.


The sponsors can be reached at broereb@msn.com if this is the dog of your dreams. Just look at those eyes. Those ears.

Weekend Update

So, I've been away for a couple of days from bloggin', no I haven't been lazy, no I am not stopping, yes my laptop does not want to connect to the Internet and I don't know why. We think it is the router that stopped working for some odd reason. So, with that said know that I have to wait until mi chica let's me use hers to post.

Last Friday we went to Manny's for karaoke as we normally do on Friday, we had fun but in the process of having fun we got our butts frozen. It was cold. Diego went with us and poor thing was freezing too but I covered him up with two sweaters and a fleece cover and he was loving it. So far I have only repeated two songs this season and I have a little fan base. Ha, ha, karaoke fame is going to my head.

Saturday I spent the morning at my mom's and put her Christmas tree up and hung the lights on the roof of her house. Of course she cooked a delicious lunch for me before I went out to hang the lights. Then in the afternoon we went to my sister in law's to celebrate her daughter's (my goddaughter)nine birthday. The theme was the 70's and Disco, so it was nothing but Disco music. Wow, that brought back some memories, you may have read in a previous post that I was a Disco Kid. Humm, those were the days.

On Sunday my daughters and grand kids spent the day with us. I decided to bring out the old VHS tapes and found the movie "Hook" I wanted to introduce this movie to the grand kids but we all winded up watching it. It was pretty fun, that movie is timeless.

So, yesterday as I was typing this it started raining storming. I had not seen rain fall this hard before, it was very windy too and the lights started to flicker, then the Internet went out so I had to finish this today.

It's cold, it's rainy and it's beginning to look a lot like Chritmas. If it keeps snowing in Flagstaff we may have an early snow trip again next year. Can't wait.

.

Team Tim

For a couple of years we have been getting acquainted with a lanky Scot named Tim. He's one of the few year-rounders here in San Carlos. Bought my Nissan last year and installed a brass dolphin as a hood ornament. Wrote a novel set in the Cancun area and asked my editing help, so I've been wading through it, enjoying some of it and wincing at other parts. ("Tim, these love scenes are a bit...stilted.") Tim's been caretaking properties during the summer and boats all year, and he loves to share riotous stories of sailing in exotic locales.


About a week ago, Tim got pneumonia. And so I have had my first exposure to a Mexican general hospital. This was not the Social Security hospital, nor one run by the Catholic Church. The care they offered was about as basic as you can get. Tim was in a four-bed room, and other than the bed, dismal food, a bathroom and the tests and Xrays he needed, nothing else was provided. So his friends got together and started filling in the gaps.


Today my friend Kris and I took him a towel, washcloth, a supply of Dr. Bronner's peppermint soap, a toothbrush and toothpaste and some melon. He hadn't had a bath or brushed his teeth in five days, and was very grateful to feel clean again. We were only allowed to see him one at a time, so when I had my turn I talked with him about his novel, and it seemed to take his mind off his pain. When I asked if I could bring him books he said the room was too dim to read in, but when we hit on the idea of recorded books, his eyes lit up. "If I had that to look forward to," he said, "I could get through this."


The hospital is fairly clean, no trash on the floors, but depressingly dingy and shabby. Window tinting film is peeling off the windows, the floor tiles are in patches and the walls are in need of fresh paint. But Tim's bill for the five days was $3000 pesos, less than $300 US. Today he was moved by ambulance to Hermosillo's general hospital, where he can see a thoractic surgeon, since the doctors here are convinced he has lung cancer.


Tim has no wife, no family, only his AA and Al-Anon friends. Someone with some nursing training, was able to use her excellent Spanish to communicate with the doctors. She had to ask them to drain his lungs; otherwise he would have probably died a couple of nights ago. Someone else sat with him hour after hour and others brought him things he needed, arranged to get a phone card for him so we could keep in touch, and followed the ambulance to Hermosillo to help him get settled in. Someone took in his dog, someone else is feeding his cat. After Sunday night's AA meeting a visiting schedule will be drawn up so he won't have to spend a single day alone in Hermosillo. In pairs we'll make the two-hour drive so there'll always be at least two people looking after him.


Without his support team, Tim might not have lived through the past week. This situation is taking proactive medicine to a whole new level; it's not just a matter of wanting to have a say in one's treatment, but a matter of survival. I don't even want to think about how it would have been if he were completely alone, as he might have been in the years before he became part of AA. Buena suerte, Timoteo.

Bop Diddledo

One of my favorite irreverent Christmas songs, The Bobs' "Santa's Gotta a Brand New Bag!"

Green Eggs and Thanksgiving Ham

I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them Sam-I-An
And I won't eat them here nor there
I won't eat them anywhere
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them Sam-I-Am...

Wait... bite, bite, chew, bite, swallow

I do, I do
I do like green eggs and ham
I do like them Sam-I-Am

Last Sunday for breakfast mi chica cooked some eggs with green salsa, she also happened to use some ham left over from Thanksgiving. I finish my portion and got up to make me another taco, at the same time mi chica was about to sit down to start eating. She doesn't like ham and very rarely tastes it so when I looked at her plate the food against the background of the table and the plate looked very green. Keep in mind it was green salsa to begin with. So I started laughing and I said if your plate would have some ham I would recite "Green Eggs and Ham". She got up and chopped some ham and added it to her plate. Of course I had to take a picture and told her, "You know I'll be blogging about this, right?".

After I snapped the shot she proceeded to make me a taco with all the ham. Because I do like green eggs and ham, I do like them Sam I am.

.

Howling at the moon

 Full moon over Oregon, by Sue Keith

My friend Sue in Aloha, Oregon sent me this photo of the full moon. We have the same camera, but she's much more advanced with hers. She's even producing full-color calendars of Oregon scenes.


Happy full moon, all you lunatics, and I hope you had a chance to howl. It's nice to think, like the song says, that people we love are gazing at that same beautiful moon somewhere.


While I wasn't howling last night, I was definitely vocalizing. My Spanish/singing teacher Lolita is the choir director at the San Fernando church, and the choir is preparing for the Fiesta de Guadalupe (Dec. 11-12) and Christmas. For a few weeks I'd been planning to get to rehearsals but the domestic tsunami at my house left me somewhat flattened and socially unreliable for a while. But sometimes I just have to make yourself do something, in spite of all the lame excuses, and then I find I'm very glad I did. As soon as I got near Lolita's house and heard them all singing, my heart felt lighter. It was the same crowd from last year, and they stopped the song to welcome me warmly with hugs and handshakes all around.


During Hurricane Jimena the dome collapsed in the San Fernando Church, and since it's a historical landmark and belongs to the Mexican government, repairs and restoration will have to wait until squads of engineers and experts descend and prepare their reports. It may not be restored in my lifetime. 

But there's a lovely plaza in front of the church, and we'll hold mass under the street lights, all bundled up in our rebozos. Kinda romantic, don't you think?

Hitmen in Guaymas

The local forum, Viva San Carlos, was abuzz yesterday with news that sounded like a description of a Wild West showdown. I heard about it in my insurance agent's office when reports came in over the radio.


Here on the Sonora coast we have felt somewhat insulated from the drug wars and systematic executions of law officers by the cartels, until yesterday afternoon when the chief of the state investigative police was assassinated in his car in Guaymas, along with a woman some reports identified as his wife. I Googled Ezequiel Quintero Alcántar, and found he was actually based in or near Empalme, the next town south from Guaymas on the coast, where according to Charlie, a gringo friend of mine who has lived here many years, the illicit drug business is booming. But Charlie does have a tendency to exaggerate, I always reminded myself.


No photos of Alcántar were available. Investigators are convinced the attackers were professionals, using high-powered firearms that resembled AK-47s.


The assailants were driving a black Jeep Cherokee, and when police from three different agencies chased them to Empalme, with shots being fired from the Jeep, they abandoned that car at an intersection and got away in a white Silverado pickup.


Considering the number of shots fired, the high-speed chase and the number of people involved, it's amazing no bystanders were injured.