Monthly Archives: January 2006

You Can’t Tell the Players Without a Program

TPM, Talking Points Memo Media, has compiled the Grand Old Docket of those so far indicted or named as coconspirators in the number of scandals unfolding involving politicians and their bribers and bagmen. They are all men and al except one are republicans.


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I’m sure that both of my readers will be hanging upon Bush’s every word this evening as they listen, enrapt, to his State of the Union Address; and will be equally attentive to the words of the mercenary talking hairdos and propagandists that afterwards will tell you what the president just said and how well or poorly, depending upon their point of view, he said it. I’m kidding of course.

Presidential state of the union addresses, regardless of the presenter, are uniformly utter crap, enumerating a laundry list of wonderful things the presenter will do in the coming year, few of which will actually materialize. I suspect King George will take the opportunity this evening to cite the lurking terrorists in his never ending quest to scare the pants off of us so we will remain his obedient subjects.

It is amazing to me that even the insipid prime time TV offerings are preempted for the SOTUA, that the pundits are actually able to suppress their snickers as they pile even more crap upon the crap that just spewed from the president, and that anyone at all watches and/or listens.

I guess it should heartening that only 30% of the public watch the show; or, on the other hand, maybe it should be disheartening that 30% of the public tunes in.

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Score One For The Bull

This morning the Mexican news show I regularly watch carried a report of a bull who, in one great leap, vaulted the ring and rampaged through the spectator seating for a bit. I don’t think anyone was seriously hurt, and it appeared to me that the bull was simply trying to escape rather than attack anyone.

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Working Children

One evening a couple of weeks ago, during my Dusty care days, as I was taking Dusty on his obligatory three kilometer evening walk I came upon a young fellow, perhaps ten or eleven, sitting on the curb having a pastry snack and a coke. Setting next to him was a rack of baseball type caps that he carries along the streets hawking his wares.

Given that my head’s natural protection from the sun has diminished over the years I find it necessary to wear a cap while in the sun. The cap I had been wearing had developed a prominent sweat ring, and as I am a soft touch for children whose lot in life requires them to work, I stopped to peruse the fellow’s wares.

As I was discussing the price and making my selection the young fellow alerted me to the fact that Dusty was examining, if not actually sampling, his pastry snack. I admonished Dusty as the young fellow assured me that there was no problem. I picked out a hat, adorned with the logo of the Cruzazul soccer club, and paid the boy twice what he was asking.

One routinely here sees children working, either in their own business, like the cap selling youngster; in their family business; or, for example, bagging groceries. I usually end up buying from or tipping the youngsters.

I remember, some years ago, when I visited Ixtapa there were lots of children walking along the streets and through the restaurants selling gum or other wares. I bought gum from each of them and a pod of carved stone dolphins from a young girl, in a crisp, ruffled pink dress, who had come into the restaurant and moved from table to table displaying her wares. One evening while walking along the street one particularly creative young fellow fell in stride beside me, stroked a ribbed water bottle with a stick as his percussive accompaniment, and sang Guantanamera to me. I of course dug into my pocket for money.

The children here in Merida, even those who are obviously poor, are clean, polite and generally ready with a smile. It seems to me that everyone here, like in Cuba, loves the children and that they are well cared for.

If you’re feeling charitable here’s a link to the web site of a local organization that cares for disabled children.


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More War Crimes

If I’m not mistaken the taking of hostages is a violation of the Geneva Conventions.

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I Couldn’t Ask for a More Wonderful Landlord

My neighbor Joel and I have decided to buy a washing machine. Though laundry service here is very inexpensive, $8 – $10 peso per kilo, having a washing machine will be more convenient.

This past Tuesday our landlord Sr. Lopez Monsreal, a local attorney, was by so I asked if there would be any problem with installing a washing machine in a location where there is an existing outlet and a water spigot. He of course said there would be no problem. The next day, however, Sr. Lopez arrived with a plumber/electrician who was to determine what it would take to run electricity from both Joel’s and my apartments and to run hot and cold water piping to a location right outside my back door under the back porch roof. Sr. Lopez indicated it would be a better location for a washing machine as it is out of the weather.

So today, three days later, two fellows are here installing the water and electrical services.

Once again may I observe my good fortune. Having made arrangements with Sr. Lopez for my apartment over the internet last September, sight unseen and with no idea of its location, I am extremely fortunate to not only end up in a comfortable, well furnished apartment in a great location; but to also end up with such a wonderful landlord.

Last week I mentioned to Sr. Lopez that I intended to apply for a FM 3 visa, which permits residency for one year and may be renewed annually indefinitely. He told me to come by his office and he will provide whatever I need for the application and that he would gladly serve as one of my two required references.

Additionally, Joel recently bought a VW; and, without Joel asking, Sr. Lopez arranged for material to be brought in to expand the parking areas, even though there is already plenty of parking area. Only Joel and the Canadian couple have cars and there already exists places here for three or four cars to conveniently park.

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No Wonder the Islamic World Hates Us – Vo. II

Chief Warrant Officer Lewis E. Welshofer Jr beat and put “Iraqi Maj. Gen. Abed Hamed Mowhoush face-first in a sleeping bag, wrapped him in electrical wire and sat on his chest in November 2003.” The general, who turned himself in to U. S. authorities who were holding his sons hostage, died and Welshofer remains in the military and walks. No wonder the Islamic world hates us.

Read the L. A. Times story here.

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