Bobby Boucher, Where Art Thou!

And there will be meowing and barking!

The sound you may have heard could very well be a relieved “whew!” coming out of the Florida Gulf Coast.
As reported online by The Atlantic Wire, the authorities of Lee County have decided “not pursuing any other charges” against two morning-radio hosts that on April Fool’s Day warned listeners of dihydrogen monoxide coming out of their taps.
As duly noted by wikipedia, dihydrogen monoxide, “shortened to ‘DHMO’, is a name for water that is consistent with basic rules of chemical nomenclature” and used “almost exclusively” in humorous context.
Back on April 2, the local NBC-affiliate in the area reported that the hosts of "Val and Scott In The Morning" had “sent people into a panic, concerned over Lee County's water quality.”    Such was, apparently, the panic, that Lee County authorities felt themselves compelled to issue a press release [see screenshot below].

You also have this from The Atlantic Wire in its update from Wednesday: “The DJs' joke was totally immature—think grade-school level—and yet remarkably successful. They warned listeners that dihydrogen monoxide was coming out of the taps in the Fort Myers area. Of course, dihydrogen monoxide is water, but people were so freaked that Lee County Utilities had to make a statement saying that their water is safe to drink.”
Make that another relieved “Whew!”
In an era of public safety and security concerns, it’s probably understandable that an April Fool’s joke created such a ruckus among the Lee County commissioners.
But it’s not even new.
As noted in the wikipedia hyperlink above:
 A popular version of the hoax was created by Eric Lechner, Lars Norpchen and Matthew Kaufman, housemates while attending University of California, Santa Cruz in 1990, revised by Craig Jackson (also a UC Santa Cruz student) in 1994 and brought to widespread public attention in 1997 when Nathan Zohner, a 14-year-old student, gathered petitions to ban "DHMO" as the basis of his science project, titled "How Gullible Are We?".
No news yet on whether the “chemically challenged Floridians” [as TAW described them in its initial report] have expressed any concern for those cats and dogs raining over Lee County, as can be seen on the screenshot atop this post.

Fat Man With a Big Cigar

Probably fatter... and even more famous

Last thing I want, believe me, is for anybody to think that the way I have put this together is so that a favorable comparison can be made.
By that I mean, no, I am not in any way suggesting that there is any similarity with the classics. My intention is none other than to remember a joke that Payito [as me and my two younger brothers always called our father] used to narrate to us all when little.
As I have previously reminisced on this blog, the onomatopoeic retelling of the misadventures of a cat that fell into a well would have us bursting at the seams anytime he was in such a good enough disposition to tell jokes [you can go here to read the version in Spanish].
What you have to bear in mind is this: they are just jokes. Nothing more than jokes. Corny jokes at that. And to be truthful, absent some kind of physical humor, they probably won’t make sense to anybody.
There are, of course, details that I leave out. It’s a rather prolonged retelling. Not unlike what a stand-up comedian will do. Meaning, anytime there is a feedback from the audience the comedian is gonna milk it and hold the vibe for as long as it’s possible.
Along the way, details would gradually be made known [it doesn’t matter that we already knew them, what was funny was to let Payito imitate, for example, the acrobatics you go through when you are trying to ‘hold it’].

In brief, the joke of the chubby-cheeked man with the big cigar narrates the troubles the character endures while traveling on a train.
It’s crowded and hot. To top it off, just as the announcement is made that there is an approaching tunnel and will everybody please stay put and above all, don’t you dare looking out the window or you will most likely be decapitated by the craggy walls, he HAS to use the bathroom.
Which he can't.
Resourceful that he is, our character unfasten his belt, lowers his pants, let's his keister protrude out the window and thankfully proceeds to relieve himself.
Just then, as is his duty to make sure that no harm comes to his passengers, the conductor looks out the window and yells: “Will that chubby-cheeked man with the big cigar get his head in!”
That’s the whole joke.
Now, about the not-making-comparisons bit.
Telling jokes is always risky. And it’s even riskier to tell jokes whenever bodily functions are involved. Some call it toilet-humor.
But let's not hold up our noses.
Even the classics, as did Cervantes in this chapter of Don Quixote, use it.
Cervantes sets the stage:

The advice seemed good to Don Quixote, and, he leading Rocinante by the bridle and Sancho the ass by the halter, after he had packed away upon him the remains of the supper, they advanced the meadow feeling their way, for the darkness of the night made it impossible to see anything; but they had not gone two hundred paces when a loud noise of water, as if falling from great rocks, struck their ears. The sound cheered them greatly; but halting to make out by listening from what quarter it came they heard unseasonably another noise which spoiled the satisfaction the sound of the water gave them, especially for Sancho, who was by nature timid and faint-hearted. They heard, I say, strokes falling with a measured beat, and a certain rattling of iron and chains that, together with the furious din of the water, would have struck terror into any heart but Don Quixote's.

Sancho then manages to tie up Rocinante so as to prevent his master from leaving him alone in order to pursue another adventure. And the author continues [click on the pix to read]:



Hilarious, won't you agree?

Well done, Zuck!

By now it’s been just a bit over three weeks since the powers that be at facebook surprised me one evening with the newly redesigned News Feed.
I know I know. It’s a totally random occurrence. Somebody over there in California [or wherever the drawing was done] inputted some code on the keyboard and out together with probably a few thousand other names mine was included.

It doesn't mean I like it!

So as you read this be totally positively absolutely sure that I am not writing this post because I feel special.
Wait, just wait, hold on to that thought! I AM special. Every one of us is. My point is: if I am is not because of having been selected for the evaluation phase.
That clear enough? Good, let’s carry on then.
What do I think about the News Feed? Thought you’d never ask: I like it. As you may have probably gathered already by the title to this post, I believe it’s a hit. So, yes, there it is: Well done, Zuck! [More in a few about the title].
Unlike the dreaded and widely despised Timeline update, the latest facebook improvement is really something that most if not all of us facebookers will certainly enjoy. Not that this is supposed to be a long post but if you wanna save some time and go straight for the summarized version of what the News Feed is, go to this video.
The design for the updated News Feed is, let’s say, cleaner and fuller than the previously sort of cluttered look.
The screenshot above, with a post from one of my nieces and another from my youngest one, shows how big the photos look at present, in contrast with the look that most users still have on their wall. [Out of privacy concerns I have edited their full names and other details on their respective posts, but I am sure you’ll get the idea].
Hover the mouse on the left side of your screen and you’ll get a wider drop-down menu, easier to navigate than in the past. Click on News Feed on the right hand side [not shown on my screenshot] and you’ll also have the box expand with a full list where selections can be made of what you want to see: Close Friends, Photos, All Friends, Groups, Following, and so on.
Anything not to like? Well, yes, there are things that some of us will certainly not be pleased with. As it should be clear to everybody, your answer to that question will be strictly guided by your preferences.
For me, the let’s say worrisome part of the updated look is not necessarily the increased amount of promoted content that all of us users are already getting with the present format. What’s somehow euphemistically called Suggested Page or Suggested Post.
There is no free lunch and facebook is after all a business. All those shareholders do want something in return for their money.
There is however a kind of intrusiveness that I think most people will probably find grating. That’s a result of something called an algorithm, the magic word by which most everybody nowadays thinks one can be defined.
The fact that algorithms work doesn’t necessarily mean that they work all the time.
On occasions, they may lead to what’s called jumping to conclusions.
For a while I kept getting this invitation to visit a site where mature women can be contacted for dates. [Sorry, guys, not dating and if I were you can be sure they wouldn’t be women my age]. I let the Suggested Post ride for a few days, just to test whether it was just a coincidence — like, for example, a company having contracted with facebook to advertise their business much in the way you may contract for a newspaper ad or a TV commercial — or if I was indeed being targeted.
The targeting can happen for a number of reasons. Somewhere somehow you mention something about yourself, as well as your age and likes or dislikes, and there the algorithm gets into gear.
But it can also lead to what this commentator brands here as reaching for straws:

        "For example, I only follow a dozen Pages on Facebook. These include Pages for friends' projects and friends' companies, the company I work for, an obscure band, an online game and a company that makes game development tools. Based on this paltry list, Facebook calculated it should present a post from social humor website Cheezburger. Why? Well, Facebook says, 'Cheezburger is similar to Pages you like.' That's just not true. If there were a 'dislike' button, I'd have used it."

      "Facebook's algorithm is reaching for straws. I suspect this is because I don't bother following enough organizations or people for Facebook to make a relevant suggestion and because Facebook got paid to promote the Cheezburger post."

At times, of course, the algorithm can be fooled by your browsing habits. Even if nowadays I only work on a freelance basis, my being a journalist leads me on a constant search for information on subjects that I feel the need to be informed, whether I am writing about them or not.
Which is why, no doubt at all, I have gotten all these Suggested Pages from people or companies, as well as political parties, on both sides of the current debate about immigration in the United States.
You can also be sure, on the other hand, that when and if I decide to visit one of those webpages that facebook is telling me about, more ads will start appearing on my wall.
Reaching is also what facebook’s algorithm does in surmising that Likes from people on my Contacts list imply most surely that my preferences are the same.
“The company you keep” is the English equivalent of what algorithms basically do. As we say in Spanish: “Dime con quién andas y te diré quién eres.”
Well done, Zuck!, I headlined this post. Using the nickname by which some people refer to facebook’s CEO Mark Zuckerberg it’s neither dissing the man nor boasting of a familiarity that’s non-existent. It's just meant to get you interested in my post. Don’t you be jumping to any conclusion.  

For All The Women

Not why it was created

Old habits die hard.
And urban legends [or whatever you want to call them] even harder.
I am reminding myself about those truisms after reading again [in more than one place, mind you] the oft repeated stories about how International Women’s Day got started and how there should be nothing to celebrate.
Most of the objections — if not all — center on its supposedly bloody origins.
A year ago, one of the most renowned newspapers in Spain published the story highlighted in the screenshot reminding us all, once again, of how the celebration of International Women’s Day was born out of a horrific event: the fire at the Triangle shirtwaist factory in downtown Manhattan.
Not true.
No matter how bad your math skills may be, this Wikipedia article shows that the tragic event happened well after the movement towards having a day dedicated to women had been started.
Sometime around the middle of the last century, historians have told us since some 30 years ago, another legend got started.
As told by Claire G. Moses, whose credentials can be read here:

“Each March 8, I relate to my women's studies classes the story of International Women's Day. lt's a story I have had recounted to me numerous times and therefore know well. A spontaneous demonstration staged by New York City women garment and textile workers in 1857, protesting low wages, the twelve-hour workday, and increasing work loads, was dispersed by the police, rather brutally. Many women were arrested; some were trampled by the crowds. Fifty years later, on the anniversary of that demonstration, International Women's Day was established in their memory. My students respond to this story with an emotion best described as gratitude. March 8 usually coincides with that moment in the semester when they feel most the weight of women's oppression: they are hungry for knowledge of women's resistance. The women garment workers of New York City fill their needs for heroic foremothers.”

Guess what, again. Didn’t happen.
The quoted text is the introduction by Moses to this research whose author, Temma Kaplan, “demolishes a myth” —as Moses notes further down in her brief remarks. [Kaplan’s work was initiated at the request of Feminist Studies following the publication of this article.]
Which is not to say, of course, that violence, repression, abuses [and whatever you may want to add to the list] against women didn’t happen in the past or are not still happening in our days.
Whatever your reasons for celebrating — or rejecting — International Women’s Day, those alleged bloody origins of the occasion should have no bearing on why you do so. You can go here for more on IWD.

Serendipity

It will soon be four years since I first published that post in May 2009. For reasons that I can't recall the post was deleted. I found the screenshot copies I made and here it is again.

Obama’s White Girlfriends

A young Obama and girlfriend

Been reading the stories about the upcoming biography of the president of the United States, Barack Obama.     Authored by Washington Post reporter David Maraniss, most of the early buzz around the book centers so far on the revelations about two of Obama’s girlfriends back in the early 80s, before his years as a Chicago community organizer on the way to become a Harvard-educated lawyer and later the first African-American elected to the White House.
Nothing salacious or scandalous about the revelations as far as it can be said by what’s been published to date.
Part of the reason for this interest around the two women mentioned in Barack Obama: The Story is basically the fact that we now know their names. That both shared with Maraniss the letters and/or their private notes and recollections about him makes it, of course, more interesting.
Obama himself had previously mentioned having a white girlfriend when he wrote “Dreams of My Father” and there are many more additional details in Maraniss’ book.
Pick and choose were to go and what to read. You have this Washington Post blog entry about the girlfriends and also this other one with a list of politicians and their women, be it wives or just girlfriends.
One can always choose to read a whole excerpt of the book, as published by Vanity Fair magazine, which’s also publishing this interview with the biographer.
Both in the lead to the excerpt as well as in the introduction to the interview, Vanity Fair includes this invitation to the reader: “To see a picture of Obama and former girlfriend Genevieve Cook, pick up a copy of the June issue.” As you can see in the screenshot above, the magazine thunder has somewhat been stolen by Le Monde, where the blog entry “La girlfriend blanche de l’étudiant Obama” begins with the more or less sensational lead: “Voilà un mystère éclairci.”
The interview with the author in Vanity Fair I found less detailed than the Q&A Maraniss provides in his own website. Worth a read I think before reading the book.

Obama poking fun at himself... and the news

C-SPAN: President Obama at the 2012 White House Correspondents' Dinner
Just in case you missed the news stories about President Obama's piece at the White House Correspondents' Association dinner, here is the full speech.
There is a lot of "local" humor to give it a name — such as the references to celebs and journalists — that may not be familiar to readers from abroad.
There are also puns that one may miss if just listening to the speech. Like his mentioning that a year ago "we finally delivered justice to one of the world's most notorious individuals."
Obama's attendance at the same dinner a year ago coincided with the operation that ended with the killing of Osama bin Laden and much was made at the time of how the president had been able to be at that social event without giving nary a hint that such a commando raid was underway.
No name is given after Obama delivers the punch line but there in the video one can see, on the giant TV screens in the ballroom, the face of Donald Trump, who until a few days before the raid had been busy promoting the so-called birthers conspiracy —namely, that Obama may not be a citizen because he had till then provided no proof that he was born in Hawaii.
Just in case one would still miss it, Obama reinforces the joke, as he continues saying that being in the midst of a heated presidential election he is usually reminded by David Axelrod, his main adviser, that he should always take advantage of the opportunity to reintroduce himself to the people.
So, he says at about 3:30 into the clip: "My name is Barack Obama. My mother was born in Kansas. My father was born in Kenya. And I was born, of course, in Hawaii." Punctuated by an overdone fake wink.   
As for the event and the organizers, here's what they are, as described in the White House website: "The annual event, which has been held since 1920, honors the work of the journalists who report on the Administration and the dinner raises money that is used to grant scholarships to journalism students. The dinner is one of Washington, DC's, most anticipated social events of the year, and the  President's speech, which pokes fun at himself and the coverage he has received from the reporters in attendance, is the evening's highlight."

Art's Good When You Like It

A tsunami inspired this painting

A few months have passed since the time I received this invitation from one of my cousins to attend an auction.
A cybernetic one, designed to benefit the Salvadoran chapter of the Red Cross (Cruz Roja Salvadoreña) with 95% of the proceeds destined to support their relief operations.
On sale to the highest bidder (base price for the auction $10 000 USD) was a set of three paints: “A Tear for Haiti,” “Chile, February 2010,” and “Japan, March 2011.”
You can see the three paints at this website. 
The painter is her husband, Joaquín Orellana, which makes him my in-law.
You don’t have to be named Sherlock to figure out why the names.

An earthquake, this other one

Just in case, though, Joaquín explains there.
The inspiration for each work came to him, he says, in the days following the tragedy affecting each country:
The massive earthquake that back in January, 2010 leveled the capital city of one of the most impoverished nations in the world (hence, A Tear for Haiti);
the seismic event that a few weeks after that catastrophe impacted Chile (a nation not strange to earthquakes, as we all know);
and the tsunami of about one year ago that in its wake raised anew the fears of nuclear disaster for the whole world.
I don't know how the auction ended or if in fact did come to any conclusion.
Should the bidding still be open I would certainly encourage anyone to do so. You would not only be supporting a worthy cause, but also acquiring really good art. From my point of view, that is.
I know, because I have seen Joaquín’s works.
As I said from the beginning, he’s my in-law.
That alone of course doesn’t make for a painting to be “good”.
 What I mean by that is the following: I’ve known Joaquín’s artistic endeavours since back in the early 1970s, when he and my cousin where still engaged. Not that I am an art critic or can even paint a lick. But as with happens with any other activity or form of expression that you cannot do anything else but admire, in the end you give thumbs-up to something because of a simple fact: You like it.
Let others debate about techniques and find meanings behind something. Neither technique nor meaning will make it good art for you, if you don't like it.  
Joaquín’s website is actually a sort of cybernetic exhibit for his artwork. It includes photos of some of his other paintings.  
Just one other thing, before finishing this post: you’ll find in the website a list of categories for the paintings. Abstract. Conceptual. Figurative. Nude. And so on.
At a point, I guess, somebody may have suggested to Joaquín that works should be grouped under something. And he obviously agreed.
There is however, this anecdote he’s posted on the website, more specifically related to the painting he has titled The Fisherman (El Pescador).  
 “Painted in blue,” he begins narrating.  
“A friend asked me: Why in blue?”  
Before he could give him a reply, Joaquín adds, the friend listed some interpretations of his own, as his inquiring mind wanted to know whether having the paint made in blue  signaled a new trend or was it a reflection of emotions Joaquín was trying to splash on the canvas.  
It’s blue, Joaquín says he told this anonymous friend, because it was “the only colour I had at the time.” Which kinda makes my point, I think: There may not be a trend. There may not be an emotion behind it. But I like it.

Stupidity at Work: Wanton Destruction - i

Before and after: a cloth as large as the destruction

Couple of scenes (from two different movies) that I'd like to tell you about as both, I believe, apply to the subject matter at hand for this post.
One is from Amadeus (don't have to say, I hope, who's portrayed in the movie). The other, a more recent production, Shakespeare in Love. (Ditto on explaining).
Knowledgeable people about either one of the two principal characters in each movie will tell you, most likely, that each movie abounds in historical inaccuracies. One thing very few will argue with is the manner in which cinematographers have portrayed the period.
The two settings I am thinking of are the theaters: the one where Mozart first stages his Magic Flute and also the one where (if we are to believe the film producers) Romeo and Juliet was first shown.
However inaccurate or imagined the plot for either movie may be, there is nothing wrong with the way their audiences are portrayed in those movies.
Go here and you will read what is known by many and is so precisely illustrated in the movie: “It is recognized that Papageno’s first audience was somewhat proletarian, but the opera was seen by a large cross-section of society.”
The audience at that fictitious first showing of Romeo and Juliet may have been perhaps less proletarian than the one being delighted by Papageno and Papagena. But still pretty much quite different from whom we may have imagined was in assistance: the literati, the wealthy, the nobility were there, of course, but do take a look at the enthralled crowd. Mostly common, ordinary people: merchants, peddlers, and so on.
Transport yourself back a few centuries and think of how the great big stories of humanity were relayed from one generation to another.
The Iliad, the Aeneid, most (if not all) of what now is mankind's cultural heritage was given that status by the people.
However chic the tango is now for thousands all over the world, let's not forget that it was born in the quilombos and not in the sparkling dance halls of South American cities.
They were called something else, but jazz (in which now many intellectual armpits delight) began pretty much in the same type of locales.
Fast-forward a few decades and get away from the squalor surrounding the last two examples.
The recently destroyed mural La Armonía de mi Pueblo (My People's Harmony) at the National Cathedral in San Salvador was certainly not a product of such an environment.
Its wanton destruction was rightly decried.
A few days after the pneumatic hammers did away with the mural, EL DIARIO DE HOY's editorial, La Nota del Día, pointedly condemned it: “Whoever may have ordered the demolition … is lacking a sense of symbols and symbolic actions, of what can be catalogued as elevated cultural expressions.”
For a dwarfish clique (not talking about their size, mind you), the sense of outrage prompted derision and mockery. That the stupidity of the destruction was so celebrated doesn't make it less of an affront to everybody.
It should be of no consolation to anybody to realize that however educated they may be, it would be wrong to think of them snobs because of their derision.
Uncouth might be the better word.

Journalist by Trade - vii

Funny how things are sometimes found.
Over the past few years I searched exhaustively on the web for graphic materials that would help me illustrate my recollections around the life of Monsignor Oscar Arnulfo Romero and my personal acquaintance with him (from my middle and high school years in Eastern El Salvador starting in 1960, to the time of his murder in late March, 1980.)
Some of the photos I found I used for the series posted under the headlined continued with this one: Journalist by Trade.
Very much respectful of intellectual property rights, there was at least one case where I refrained from posting the picture itself, opting instead for working a screenshot of the webpage where the photo was found.
Even in those cases where some kind of public ownership could be attributed to the work, I also made sure of crediting the website where the work is originally published.
Had I been trying to "prove" to anybody that I was there when the violence erupted during the funerals for the murdered archbishop, I would have had a difficult time.
Other than the copies of my dispatches included in the initial posts for the series, the only other "evidence" that I was there was a wide open shot of the National Cathedral, where I circled myself in the picture.
It was just a few hours ago, while looking for materials to illustrate my previous post about the destruction of the mural created by Fernando Llort (See Stupidity at Work: Wanton Destruction) that I stumbled onto a youtube video. A rather long one, to boot. Somehow, I replayed the video in its entirety. And there, almost at the end, between the 08:28 and 08:32 marks, I am, in rolled long-sleeved white shirt and khakis, in the middle of the caption, just behind the armed guerrillas marching into the cathedral for shelter.

Stupidity at Work: Wanton Destruction

Among the recent news from my country is the wanton, stupid, and senseless destruction of La Armonía de mi Pueblo (My People's Harmony), the mural created by Salvadoran artist Fernando Llort that up until 30th December, 2011, graced the National Cathedral's frontispiece in downtown San Salvador — what many nowadays call the Centro Histórico.
Llort is a contemporary of mine (or I one of his, if you'd rather prefer it that way) but as far as my recollection goes we have never been personally acquainted. We did at one time (late '60s, early '70s) have many common acquaintances, as both his art and my work had us in touch with many of the same people in the Salvadoran cultural scene.
What Llort started back in the early '70s in La Palma (at the time some dismissed it as just another hippy experiment, I kid you not) grew over the years, both domestically and abroad, into one of the better known Salvadoran artistic expressions — if not the most and for some the only known one.
Even if they have never heard of Nando Llort (his website is here) millions of Salvadorans (and hundreds of thousands of foreigners, I am sure) know his work. If you have ever bought a wooden key or a t-shirt decorated with naïf Salvadoran images, chances are that you have a Llort-inspired work in hand.
Whether you approve or disapprove of the mural — La Toallona (The Beach Towel), is how many still nickname the now destroyed artwork — there is no question that it was the maximum expression of Llort's lifework. A national artistic treasure. (Plenty of information, in Spanish, about the mural's obliteration and the lies and justifications around it can be found on Indignados por El Mural here). Both pictures above are taken from the Indignados page: the mural as it was, with the heaps of recognition by the Roman Catholic hierarchy below.
The mural's name itself, the fact that it was created in celebration of the Peace Accords that in 1992 put an end to an armed conflict that wreaked havoc in the country, that (as the artist himself declared at one time) it was also in remembrance and homage to the murdered Archbishop Oscar Arnulfo Romero, would probably make you think that somebody with an ounce of decency would have taken pains to make sure that it would be treated with the respect it rightfully deserved.
Think again.

Life Beckons

This is actually a very short post. Its title refers to La Vida Llama, a new composition released last week by my nephew, Rafael Francisco Góchez (the guitar-playing dude at left), and sang by Sarita Cáceres, also portrayed here.
What I have done for this post is give you my own translation of the lyrics.
If you know Spanish you'll see a difference between the original and the translation. Instead of just translating "literally" I tried to accommodate words to the music and that's not an easy task for somebody like me, neither a poet nor a musician.
I did that because songs of course are to be heard, not read.
So go ahead, click here and prepare to listen to La Vida Llama in youtube. Maybe the English verses will make you want to sing along.

Here are the lyrics:

LA VIDA LLAMA
LIFE BECKONS
© Rafael Francisco Góchez

Abonaré la tierra de horizontes sin final
I WILL ENRICH THE GROUND WITH ENDLESS HORIZONS
perseguiré la huella de tus pasos junto al mar.
FOLLOW YOUR FOOTSTEPS BY THE SEASHORE.
No dejaré que el miedo pueda con mi libertad
WILL NOT ALLOW FEAR TO STRANGLE MY FREEDOM
defenderé mis alegrías, compartiré mis utopías.
WILL STAND UP FOR MY JOYS, AND SHARE ALL MY UTOPIAS.

Presentaré candidatura para restaurar
IF DARKNESS'S BENT ON TORTURING MY HEART
el corazón martirizado por la oscuridad.
I AM GONNA LEAD THE FIGHT FOR RESTORATION.
Haré campaña de esperanza sin mirar atrás
I WON’T EVER LOOK BACK, HOPE’S GONNA BE MY LEAD
anotaré en mi agenda el día
AWAITING FOR THAT DAY
en que regrese tu sonrisa.
WHEN YOUR SMILE RETURNS.

Y el corral de la noche
AND IT’S THERE AT NIGHT'S DEEPEST
donde se esconde la aurora,
WHERE THE DAWN IS HIDDEN
se siente ya
WHERE YOU CAN FEEL
el palpitar
THE STRONG HEARTBEAT
de la mañana que asoma.
OF THE BURSTING OF MORNING

Despierta y anda, la vida llama
GET UP AND RUN, IS LIFE THAT´S CALLING
no puedes dejar de creer.
HOW CAN YOU HARBOR DISBELIEF.
Encuentra fuerzas en quien espera
FIND YOUR STRENGHT IN THOSE WHO WAIT
La oportunidad de crecer, por amor.
THE CHANCE TO GROW UP THROUGH LOVE

Si crees que no tienes ya caminos por andar
IF YOU EVER THINK THE ROAD´S COME TO AN END
es tiempo de recuperar tu creatividad.
THE TIME HAS COME THEN TO RECOUP YOUR DREAMS
El límite más poderoso es el de no luchar
THE STRONGEST LIMITATION´S THE UNWILL TO FIGHT
deja volar al firmamento
SO LET YOUR YEARNINGS SOAR
Lo más querido de tu anhelo.
TO THE HIGHEST OF HEAVEN.

Y el corral de la noche
AND IT’S THERE AT NIGHT'S DEEPEST
donde se esconde la aurora,
WHERE THE DAWN IS HIDDEN
se siente ya
WHERE YOU CAN FEEL
el palpitar
THE STRONG HEARTBEAT
de la mañana que asoma.
OF THE BURSTING OF MORNING

Despierta y anda, la vida llama
GET UP AND RUN, IS LIFE THAT´S CALLING
no puedes dejar de creer.
HOW CAN YOU HARBOR DISBELIEF.
Encuentra fuerzas en quien espera
FIND YOUR STRENGHT IN THOSE WHO WAIT
La oportunidad de crecer, por amor.
THE CHANCE TO GROW UP

Despierta y anda, la vida llama
GET UP AND RUN, IS LIFE THAT´S CALLING
no puedes dejar de creer.
HOW CAN YOU HARBOR DISBELIEF.
Encuentra fuerzas en quien espera
FIND YOUR STRENGHT IN THOSE WHO WAIT
La oportunidad de crecer, por amor.
THE CHANCE TO GROW UP THROUGH LOVE.

Lluvia que lavas el día
RAIN THAT CLEANSES THE DAY
con tu frescura temprana
SAME AS DEW IN THE MORNING
ven hacia nuestra ventana
COME BY OUR WINDOW
a rescatar la alegría
AND FRESHEN OUR JOY

Lluvia que lavas el día
RAIN THAT CLEANSES THE DAY
con tu frescura temprana
SAME AS DEW IN THE MORNING
ven hacia nuestra ventana
COME BY OUR WINDOW
a rescatar la alegría
AND FRESHEN OUR JOY

Moon Over the Gables

Back a few years ago they were flamingos.
As part of one of those urban beautifying campaigns run periodically in cities all over the world, the flamingos were ubiquitous in most of Coral Gables, to the delight of children mostly.
This time around (I am sure the information is already out, but I just haven't had the time to compile it) they are snails.
Huge bright pink or fuchsia (take your pick on what to call it) snails, mostly in pairs, strategically set where local residentes and visitors to The City Beautiful can snap photos, and children can climb on top.
It's actually hard to miss them.
What you most certainly would miss, I bet, is the also beautiful sight of the moon over the Gables at around 8:54 AM on 27 January, 2011.
Hope the pix is good enough to show it right there, about an inch to the left of the building in the background. You have two captions to locate it.

Earth Day MMXI - Every Little Bit Counts

Shopping for household stuff is one of the most simple and non-complicated things for me.
Other than the basic one about, Do I really need this now? there are two main considerations for deciding what to buy. One is, which brand? The other, at what price?
Price usually comes up when you are wondering whether to try a new product. For us all, animals of habit, what usually happens is that we stick with the tried and true. The brand your mother got home after a trip to the supermarket will probably be the one you are gonna reach for at the shelf (provided, of course, it survived long enough in the marketplace.)
Well, that bit of marketing know-how out of the way, let me explain now why I am pontificating on shopping habits and more specifically why I alluded to MY shopping habits.
Here is why?
Because my cooking is practically non-existent, I really don't have many dishes to clean daily. Which also explains why "dishwashing liquid" is not an item I jot down too often on my shopping list. In short, a 24-oz bottle of the stuff is gonna last me for a very very long time.
No matter how little you use, eventually you are gonna run out of said liquid.
One of these days, I did.
And since piling up unwashed dishes in the sink for even a few minutes is totally out of the question (one of my pet peeves, by the way) there was the obligated mental note to stop at the supermarket on the way home and buy dishwashing liquid.
I bought two 24-oz bottles of Dawn!
For a long time now, this detergent has been used by wildlife rescuers to help save wildlife affected by oil (make that crude oil) spills, think Exxon Valdez or BP exploration well disaster in the Gulf of Mexico. Dawn does it without causing additional harm to the feathers and skin of animals. It's not a marketing ploy, it was actually a find by wildlife rescuers.
Now, you may say, what happened to not having to do a lot of washing dishes and your regular bottle of the stuff lasting you for a very long time?
That one's still true and it's also why I titled this post, Every Little Bit Counts.
Over the past year, whenever you as a consumer activated "your" donation online, for every bottle of Dawn dishwashing liquid you bought the manufacturers have donated one dollar, up to $500,000, to its wildlife conservation partners, The Marine Mammal Center and The International Bird Rescue Research Center.
Even though the $500,000 goal was already reached, donations are still being added and as of 18:00 EST on Thursday 6th Jan, 2011, the total had climbed to around $557,400.
So, having enough dishwashing liquid to last me for perhaps the rest of the year, I guess I have two choices: cook more, and dirty more dishes, or give it away to a friend or a neighbor in hopes that using this environmentally-friendly product will become his or her (and kin) favourite.
And then wait for the next Dawn campaign, to buy (and donate) some more. For two ways to find out more, on the Web go, here. Or you can also go to the facebook page, here.

In 2011, Hit the Ground Running

For a while now and though still far from perfect, I've been rather constant with my running.
On average, the so-so weeks see me running at least 5 miles per day [by so-so I mean those weeks where I may run up to 20 miles on the weekend — that is to say 10 on Saturday and 10 on Sunday — and then do the other 15 over three different weekdays.]
On the good weeks, my total may come up to 45 or even 55 miles, especially when I do really well in managing my time schedule.
Most of my running I do on a treadmill, in a gym. It's better on your knees, whatever shape they may be in.
The gym is a rather inexpensive, no frills facility which I chose not only because is close to where I live but also because the sandwich board that advertises it had two words magic enough to attract my attention: No Contract!
When I first started visiting the gym it had been almost four years since last I had gone regularly to a gym. As a matter of fact, I recently joked that as far as I can remember my only running at the time was mostly to catch a departing bus.
My concern was not so much that I would not keep up with my intended purpose of getting in shape. I didn't.
It was mostly around the what ifs.
What if I have to change jobs? What if I move and that makes if difficult to come as often as I want? What if a longer conmute will prevent me from going to the gym as often as I need it?
Basically, why pay for something you are not using — you better believe it, bin dere done dat enough times to justify my concern.
Less than four months after starting my self-training schedule in early January 2009 I was able to run the 5K in the Miami Corporate Race in 34m51s.
Not otherworldly but not too shabby after a prolonged 4 year span of not doing any kind of competitive running.
I didn't run those 3.1 miles in 2010 and don't know whether running the MMXI MCR is in the cards for me this year.
Were it to happen I am more than confident that I would be able to shave off a few seconds off my 2009 time — how about 34m45s, LOL! God willing, that is.
An added benefit to my having been constant in my running over these past two years: I have strenghtened my knees and my ankles to the point that now [as you can see in the attached video] I can run on pavement without so much as resenting the pounding.
I am not much for those dreaded New Year resolutions but if I were to commit to some on this inaugural day of the second decade of the millennium, here they are:
— Stay close to God (and praise and thank Him always) as He wants me to.
— Do as much running or exercise as I can to stay healthy (He'll do the rest, I know.)
— Be more constant in my writing, beginning with my blog.
For Day One, it's working. Thank you, God, for all your blessings.