Author Archive for M. Toole
Tough Times
Continued from Page 2
and we were so poor we couldn’t even afford KBUT…so poor that we had only one toy between the fourteen kids. It was a piece of coal that daddy brought home from the Big Mine. We all got the coal for 1/2 day which worked out really well. My day was Tuesday from noon to midnight. I remember squirming all day in school in apprehension of the afternoon’s delight. Then magically the time arrived, and I rushed home to play with my treasure, my siblings gawking in envy.
Daddy said the coal taught us to be happy with what little we had and after all he needed that whiskey to keep him settled after a shift. Later, after daddy dropped dead of the gout, we burned the coal and spread the ashes on Kebler Pass.
– Margot Rottweiler
Surfing report
Our February Surfing Report has been cancelled since it is only January and we are too far from the beach to see the waves. Sunny. Tide is in and out. Salt content normal. For further information dry off and log in to board technicalities.com
“If only we had been born clowns nothing bad would happen to us except a few bruises and a smear of whitewash. Don’t learn from experiences, Milly. It ruins our peace and our lives.” – Mr Wormhold to his daughter in “Our Man in Havana” by Graham Greene
The abyss found…
Warning sign at Reserva Ochideas near Jardin, Colombia
Birds, Buses, Bars and a Basilica
Fresh Chismoso from Jardin, in Colombia’s Zona Cafetera
Wandering onto the panela park, pre-moonlight, watching the sun in retreat, a crusty old pastel star tonight, pink in the clouds and full of itself. Masked streets, faces lit up – plaza gawking — the cultivated art of doing nothing.
There sits Jorge, in front of La Tampa, a man who once drank 38 cups of coffee in one day, then just like that he quit the stuff. His wife said it made him jumpy. Now he walks the streets singing Tango and eating papaya.
Later my neighbor, who runs cows along the stone path to town was feeding bananas to his brahmas yesterday…and they couldn’t get enough. I’d never seen that. These bovines are treated very gently and do not shy away from a pet on the nose. So far he has not detected any desire on the part of the animals to swing from trees.
They all probably find foreign visitors here rather amusing, and why not? Many of the younger visitors cram 10 to a small hostel dormitory for less than ten dollars a night, buy an empanada, then spend thirty dollars drinking. No small accomplishment where two shots of anejo rum and two beers sets you back about five dollars.
There are not many gringos here since the town has only recently graced the world’s shallow compendia. The ones that do show up are generally seasoned even if hand signals are their major Spanish component.
On Sundays the campesinos that work the coffee fincas come to town. They are loud boozers with bad music blasting in the cantinas, but no altercations. One such worker asked me in English where I was going one day and I told him I was headed to church to pray for him. The next time he saw me he parroted my phrase, only he said he was going to church to play for me. I got the concept.
High up above town, at nearly 8000 feet, the Reserva de Orchideas beckons. Mangos and rain accentuate the green scene. Palms perch mixed with pine trees, monkeys, eagles, sloths, bears and pumas. These are joined by thousands of birds and a vast assortment of other mammals. Wild waterfalls abound along jungle paths and mountain vistas.
This afternoon I heard tell of a young man who wore so much cologne that his mother here in Jardin knew exactly when he left work in Andes on the bus (30 minutes away) and when she could start dinner. Tonight, he’s having chicharron with avocados, rice and fried plantains.
And if that doesn’t float your arepa, this morning the local loco ate all of the bananas I hung on the patio’s iron grillwork last night. When I gave him a bill for the fruit he said he would not pay since I taught his cats to understand English and undermined his feline authority.
He’s crazy but not stupid. What he doesn’t realize is that they are mad for cheese and olives.
-Miguel Manypenny
Los condados de GOP Gerrymanders regresan a México
(Brownsville UPS) Esta tarde se confirmaron rumores inquietantes de que los legisladores cristianos de Texas abortados en papel han devuelto al menos 5 condados de Texas a México.
El cambio accidental, un intento de evitar que la gente de color abrace el poder del voto, fue llamado “nuestro error” por una clase de políticos avergonzados, pero continuamente ignorantes, no vistos desde el Tercer Reich.
Los condados enviados de regreso a México incluyen Jim Wells, Dimmit, Willacy, Patricio y las partes occidentales de Arnsas y Kleberg. Todos han tenido una alta población latina desde el siglo XVIII.
“Estamos seguros de que se puede hacer algo para aliviar este percance”, dijo el portavoz Rory Alamo, un funcionario no electo con una influencia impresionante en la Cámara. Si no, tendremos que invadir de nuevo. ¡Recuerda Vera Cruz!
Los condados afectados tendrán hasta enero para responder legalmente a los cambios. Los residentes allí probablemente votarán en una elección especial para determinar la nacionalidad futura. ¿Se quedarán en Estados Unidos o se unirán a México?
Nadie lo sabe.
– Verde rojo
“La fortuna favorece a los que ya son ricos. Si los campesinos se levantan, los ricos simplemente contratarán a los moros “.
– Roscoe “Chepe” Mola
Ice fishermen seek protection from rampaging Bighorns
(Blue Mesa) Hundreds of ice fishermen have filed grievances with the state and federal government after a series of attacks on vehicles by Bighorn sheep living nearby.
Although no person has been directly threatened it is feared that personal assaults may be next. The sheep, usually found at higher, more remote locales moved into the area west of Gunnison a few years back, apparently liked it, and stayed. Bighorn activity has increased in the area since 1980 but more
aggressive tendencies within the herd have only surfaced this year.
A more radical element of the ice fishermen, Bait Nation, with suspected links to Aryan groups all over the West, has threatened to shoot the animals if the situation worsens. They say the Division of Wildlife should control their wards and that any damage to cars parked near the shore is the responsibility of that agency.
Meanwhile the confrontations continue to mount. Just over the weekend three pickups sustained damage when charged in three different incidents by the same large ram. Although all of the aforementioned vehicles were operable after the onslaught one lost a front bumper and another a windshield. Some door damage was also reported. One ice fisherman asked why the authorities had done nothing.
“Belligerence towards anything connected to humans has definitely escalated since the holidays,” said Hugo Montelbann, of Vulcan. “Can’t the Curecanti rangers see a trend here? Are they waiting until cars and trucks are stolen and people are the target of this puissant pugnacity, this territorial tumult?”
Dr. Montallban, a retired professor of English at Western State University and College has been ice fishing for over fifty years. Close friends say his is given to superficial alliteration and drinking cold beer.
Animals behaviorists, working with the freshmen class at that same institution, say the animals are known to be quite docile except during the autumn rutting season when head banging and testosterone levels rise. They say many young rams crash heads with each other all year round but that most of the time it’s just for fun.
“Have you ever glimpsed the dazed look on their faces after a head to head collision?” asked Dr. Martha White, a marine biologist on loan from Cal Amari Remedial College in Santa Barbara. “While it looks painful to us it represents ecstasy to them. My expertise is really in another field,” she explained. “I don’t even know the distinction between sheep and goats. They all make the same baaa sounds don’t they?”
White went on to say that she still follows the advice of a noted anthropology professor at Cal Amari, Dr. Everett Pennywhisyle, who often said,
“Don’t let the fact that you know nothing about a specific subject keep you from presenting a lengthy dissertation on that subject.”
A spokesman for the Division of Wildlife suggested that the ice fishermen abandon their regular haunts until the sheep settle down.
“Something here has gotten their goat,” he laughed. “It might be better if these local anglers fished the Taylor or San Cristobal until this quandary is resolved. I hear Mexico has great fishing this time of the year.”
In the interim, fishermen have been urged to avoid wearing bright colors or making quick movements so as not to further provoke the sheep.
– Suzie Compost
