A Quick Show Around

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Liberty State Park View,
originally uploaded by Mema13.

A few days ago, Carlos’ niece visited us from Florida. It was really fun showing her around Bayonne and other remote places on the greatest planet in the world called, Earth. Right.
Since my poor old putt-putt car is completely out on commission, we had to get around in her car. And the only time that we could see her was late at night, mostly because she is still young and has a nightstalker tendency. Ah, blessed youth. I remember those days…sleeping in…hanging out at night. But I digress.
We drove around locally enjoying all the funny, oddness that New Jersey has to offer. Even though there essentially is nothing open those hours (unlike NYC), we opted to go see the monument that the local yokels are going on and on about that no one else seems to know.
Seen here.  Supposedly, it was a big enough deal to warrant a quick tour-like visit from the former President Clinton who apparently is more popular now that he’s no longer President.  If you haven’t been to see it, then just know that it is located in the most remote place of EVER.  First, be warned that there’s a checkpoint to get to the monument.  I know.  Like you’d be caught stealing a monument.  Puhlease.  Next, a long straight military road in and one out.  In other words, there’s nowhere to run once you’re in.  The rest is finding a weird break in a host of cones set up to like, guide?, you through the straight-line road to an offshoot that leads direct to the monument.  Again, it’s awkward to get to but when you get there, the ride seems worth it.  The monument is a golden monolith surrounding a giant silver teardrop between an intentional break in the center.  This is all supposed to signify the 9/11 tragedy and was donated by of all countries, Russia.  It’s almost as if Russia’s saying, “Yeah you wealthy Americans, eat our creative dust!”  But really, it’s a nice gesture.  Yeah, so the base does have 43 names of people that should not have been included because well, they didn’t die on 9/11.  Big mistake.  A factual error?  But what do you expect from New Jerseyians?  Perfection?  Fuggedaboutit! 

So now, we have The Statue of Liberty (donated by France),  this 9/11 monument (donated by Russia).  What’s next?  A giant Roman sculpture?  A mega-pastry from Germany?  I guess it’s obvious that we get nothing from Sweden.  They’re neutral.

We went, we saw, we forgot our cameras.  Shame, too.  It really was a morbidly nice thing to see.  We ended our tour with some photos like the one above.  Night views from Global and Liberty State Park.  When you’re from Jersey, you don’t really need too much fluff.  That’s what makes us real.  Or, that’s what they say anyways.

So here’s to “Keepin’ It Real”.  Now, pour some Chardonnay out on a carpet for homies lost.  Word.

Testing 1,2,3

I may be behind the times, but I keep on trying to find ways to make this blog progress and seem more up-to-date.  I have no other way to do that because all of the services generally ask for cash up front (which anyone who knows me knows that I lack).  Big Time.  So, since I feel like I’m all behind Jamelah & Caryn in the progress department, I figured I’d test out the microphone that Carlos acquired for me and put it to good use.  But judging from what little we really have to say on this, it appears that it was just put to use only.  Not good at all.  But I’m hoping it works on other computers and not just on mine.  Let’s see shall we?  Join me on this journey.  Oh and by the way, the yeller on the soundbyte is Sara.  She was excited but thought that in lieu of something to say, she’d just scream.  Get back to me and lemme see if it worked. Okay?

So here’s a little description of what you hafta do when you click on the link:

1. Click on the link
2. A new window will open up that reads, “Easy Sharing” and there will be another link that you’ll have to click on in the middle of the screen (the gray-blue box).
3. Click and you should be set to hear the audible me acting like a retard.  Sara too!

Let’s try this link now…shall we?

Puhlease lemme know the results.  Love ya fellas!

Talking In Metaphor

I have a tendency to talk too much.  No, no.  It’s not a problem admiting that I have a gift for gab–much to the chagrin of those who must listen to me pontificate on every subject known to Man.  I am at one with my wordiness.  My verbiage.  My Adjectivian Flourish.  My droplets of wisdom. That is, metaphorically speaking.  But nothing truly captures my art at entertaining words like my favorite pastime: speeches.

It often begins with a roll of the eye, a suck of the teeth or a sigh of frustration.  Nothing gets my juices flowing more than complete contempt.  But rather than begin with decades-old morality tales or tired parental cadences that begin with “When I was your age” or “Back in my day“, I prefer the subtle nuance of the metaphor.  Like a seasoned painter, I first prepare my canvas with simple images.  Then, I catch you in a lesson well before you realize that I am teaching it to you.  Like the deceased Bob Ross, I’m guiding you gently toward making “happy little trees” in your mind so that you can hopefully reach your own conclusions.

This week alone I’ve had to invent a few metaphoric pieces to speak to Sara (Carlos’ daughter) who at seventeen, thinks better in pictures than in words.  So here is a quick example of how I would go about my metaphor-speak:

Her Dad’s Love Is Like A Cake: 

I guess love between fathers and daughters is always a unique concept.  A father often feels that can’t just put his arm around his daughter and ask her to fix stuff in the garage.  He also can’t punch her in the arm or tossle around without feeling a little weird.  At the same time, the daughter can’t ask him for advice on dating or what color lip gloss to wear at a party.  So to soften the rough edges of Carlos, I had to explain it to her this way: Your Dad’s Love Is Like A Cake.  To which she gave me that same you’re crazy look that all teenagers give adults at one time or another.  However, Carlos’ love for his daughter is extremely strong.  Even though he doesn’t always express it in a conventional way, Sara is his world.  Likewise, Sara can speak her mind to her Dad with reckless abandon, knowing that he will try to help her out in whatever way he can.  The problem is that there was a rough patch.  So Sara, I explained, used to be the icing on Carlos’ cake.  And just as she was getting past the yummy layers, she balked.  So now, she’s the wick on the candle.  She has to learn to eat her father’s crumbs until he can once again share his slice. 

You may be asking, did this corny stuff really work?  The short answer is, yes.  The long answer is that it’s a bitter pill for Sara to swallow right now.  You see?  I’m a metaphor fool…somebody stop me!

Introducing…Heidi

I’ve been avoiding mentioning on the blog that I’ve taken my step-daughter, Sara back to come and live with me and Carlos.  I think that I’ve been avoiding it not because I wanted to keep it a secret (because those closest to me already know) but because I almost didn’t want to have to re-justify why I did it.  A very surface level and euphemistic answer would be: because I love her.  But like Jules in Pulp Fiction would say, “that shit just ain’t the truth.” I can’t take allow, with clean conscience, a minor to walk the streets homeless.  I just couldn’t allow that to happen.  To say that she needed a place to stay was an understatement.  To say that she’d run out of options is more realistic. 

It followed a visit by a godparent (because they really are influential in Puerto Rican life–or at least pretend to be) who has a house full of visitors and could no longer house “just one more”.  The decision was made and I debated for a long while before making it.  But, there it was.  The right thing to do.  So it seems fitting that as I write this, I am also introducing another addition to our ever growing family.  Relax, it’s not what you think.  Nope, this “baby” barks and has paws.  (SEE BELOW)

 Introducing Heidi…She’s cute.  She’s cuddly.  She was saved by cruel hands and now she’s part of our family.  Believe me, as with Sara, I was ambivalent about adding her onto our team.  After all, what the heck do I need with another dog, right?  But she nibbled on my finger and it was love at second-sight. 

In retrospect, I guess that’s how I see things.   I started this post about something totally different.  I began initially to write about the correlation of the childhood game, PickUp Sticks and real life.  It would’ve been a real good post, but it had nothing to do with my views on family and it would’ve deviated from what I needed to write about a long time ago. 

Sara’s been back for almost a month now and it’s not without it’s challenges.  I think that she–and I–both learned some things, though, while she was away.  Namely:

1. Pick Your Battles - Teenagers are not only hormonal, but teen girls are like, TEN TIMES WORSE!  Crappy decisions, silly judgements and being all over the place are a teen’s playground. So if I know that already, why bother arguing over replacing the toilet paper roll? 
2. Help, Don’t Hinder - Nobody’s perfect.  Teens are still learning. So it’s unrealistic for me to be pleased with every choice Sara makes.  She is her own person and all I can do is guide her and show her a better way.  It is up to her to make changes if (and when) the time comes.
3. I Was Just Playin’ - Absence does make the heart grow fonder.  There is a weird mutual respect that has resulted from our separation.  Sara still needs to know how to deal with her Dad, but she’s a lot more willing to work towards her goals.  Hopefully.

Well, we both still have a lot to learn but I’m trying to be more openminded.  She is seventeen, after all.  In a year, the world will consider her a legal adult. So I think it’s too late to make any radical changes.  But, the other day I caught her using one of my invented words, “hookie-doo”.  And that made me feel real good.

Losing Your Stuff As Well As Your Mind:

You ever have a day where everything you thought was supposed to be somewhere isn’t?You carefully took the time to strategically place something in a certain spot that only you can remember and one of two things happens:  

1. You forget the ”secret” location so not even you can find it.
2. You only think that you left the item there. Ha, ha! YOU FOOL!

Now the latter is the most dangerous of all.  Because those keys that you cleverly hid in the cookie jar on the shelf never really happened.  You see, you only thought to leave the keys there.  You’re mind is playing tricks of total recall on you.  In truth, the keys are in your jacket pocket. You forgot that you talked yourself out of leaving the keys in the cookie jar because you’d never find them there. Don’t that beat all?  Then there are other instances like losing papers that you thought you just had.  You think: But I just had this in my hands. Then you think: Where’d it go? Don’t you hate that?  Doesn’t it ruin your flow?  I mean, one minute you had that small stack of copies that you ran on the copier when all of a sudden–BAM!  You discover that you don’t have them.  Like Nancy Drew you go on a caper because that’s what detectives do.  You look everywhere and are about to go mad with rage when all of a sudden, THERE THEY ARE!  It’s as though the pile never left.   So you start rummaging through the scenarios. How could you have overlooked it before?  Did someone else drop it off?   Was it there all along?  Am I going crazy? 

The answer is yes.  Yes you are.

Who The Hell Knows What The Heck I’m Gonna Write?

What the hell have I been thinking about lately?  It’s almost as if my brain is this festering soup of half-hearted ideas and portion-sized tidbits.  The true remains of the day left me thinking about the oddest thing:

What is the proper way to use a tea bag?  

I mean, do you use it once and discard or can you stretch out another cup from one?  This really bugged me.  Like I actually carefully thought about it and analyzed it over and over.  You see, like George Costanza from Seinfeld, I thought about the double-dipping episode.  To those of you who do not recall this bit of comic genius, George had attended a party and kept obsessing over everyone dipping their chips in dip, taking a bite and then dipping the chip dip again.  “No double-dipping!”  So, assuming that the tea bag is still intact and not soggy, then my conclusion is yes, you can definitely re-use the same tea bag and make another cup.  It also is less wasteful and therefore, environmentally conscious.  I think.

Well by now it should be obvious that my over-inquisitivenous is definitely due to working longer hours.  This makes me more alert and more prone to random acts of statistical analysis.  That, and my willingness to find alternative ways of occupying my time (other than work) because my bosses actually think that they’re doing me a favor.  Maybe they are, but now I’m over-stressed and tired and I’m sure eventually this will all matter not. Right now I’m so burned I can’t even do the easy things well.  Namely, this blog. 

R.I.P. Crocodile Hunter (we hardly knew ye):

When my sister called me and told me that Steve Irwin (aka The Crocodile Hunter) had died from a poisonous stingray, I couldn’t help but chuckle.  I’m not a morbid person–I’m not, ma! But the only thing I could think of was the funny behind this truly sad tale of woe.  I mean, DEATH BY STINGRAY?  C’mon!  Of course I mourned in my own little way as I remembered the good ole times with this Crocodile-Dundee-alike.  And of course I felt just about as bad as when Roy got attacked by his own tiger.  I mean, ’cause…yeah.  But all I kept thinking about is what his final words would be.  Things like, “I thought it was a wallabe!” and I couldn’t resist the urge, “Cri-kie!!!!!” *glug, glug*  Sorry fans.  I know that this is probably in bad taste, but I couldn’t help it.  I guess it’s because this man truly didn’t take his own life too seriously.  He jokingly put his life at risk time and time again and with that crazy accent, television magic was bourne.  But I did shed a tear namely because he leaves behind such a great adventure-filled legacy, not to mention his wife and kid.  That’s the sad truth. Still, I think that the guy lived the dream that only most of us envision.  He walked with the animals, talked with the animals and came closer than any one of us to some wild, wild things.  And it wasn’t like he got eaten alive like that Timothy Treadwell guy.  Even though his final moments were videotaped, it appears that the cameraman was a good friend and could have a heart about releasing the footage.  One can hope, anyway. So all in all,  the man lived a life that the world could only ooh and ahh about. 

But I still couldn’t help but imagine if maybe the seemingly peculiar ‘accident’ couldn’t have been a stingray vendetta fulfilled…Perhaps, years ago Irwin had inadvertently had a run-in with a high-ranking member of the Stingray clan.  Follow me on this one…okay? Well, the stage was set for a potential Stingray Rebellion but not without a fight. Tune in for “Stung by Stingray” (coming soon to a theatre near you)!  Hell, it can’t be any worse than “Snakes On A Plane”!  Can it?!