Burglars, Racism and WTF is Ornithology

As Talwan rants on his dead stacks, I am in the jungle experiencing life. I guess Tal uses 5 syllable words to impress students. Yeah he knows what a verb is. Good Lord. The pendulum swings. The dog barks. The cock crows. The monkeys howls. And in the meantime, apartheid raises its ugly head.

As I passed the pool, young kids were taking their diving instruction. I thought, is there some way to correct this problem? I paid for a Nicaraguan youth to have diving lessons with this group. The South African leader shuffled him into Cepia. I lost my 300 dollars. Would he have done that to a white child here. What! No Way! But a Nicaraguan is viewed as less than. Someone to be a mule. Carry a load.

It’s difficult to go up against. It can be strenuous and energy depleting work. But it’s also its own reward.

I did what I could. I let it go. I place it in the hands of the historians.

I am from Jacksonville FL. A place known for its mean and racial attitude. Past and present. But I don’t mind what anyone says. It is better now.

Yes, it was a conundrum. A terrible, horrible, vile existence in the south. But not all white people were bad and all black people lovely minstrels.

How’s that for a vocabulary. Nouns, verbs, predicates. Mercy me. I think I’ll write a song.

Burglars – people have been stealing since the beginning. We have break-ins here in Costa Rica all of the time. But somehow it’s suppose to be different here. Come to think of it. It is different here.

Pura vida.

Be a beautiful bird watcher.

As you soak in the beautiful colors. The vultures are behind you, sucking up your sh*t, amigo.

Pura vida.

The words are the same. The meaning different.

Bogged Down in Blog Town

When I woke up, I grabbed my bathrobe and checked for scorpions; a Costa Rica habit. hhmmmm…….I’m………

Going home to a place I’ve never been before. John Denver is singing in my head.

I woke up wanting to create a post. My mind is overwhelmed. I think to myself, what will I write about, ~my mudder, my fadder, my brudder~family issues greeted me upon my arrival.

Sometimes life can be overwhelming. And believe me, there was a time when I couldn’t sort it all out. I would go deeper and deeper into my mind.

Since I first read Faulkner, I always related to the character in the book, As I Lay Dying, that lost it and set a barn on fire. Not just any barn, but the one where Mama’s coffin’s was parked.

He kept pointing out to his father and siblings that Mama was dead and they could bury her anywhere. They didn’t have to drag her body across Mississipi, being stalked by buzzards.

All of the family members, in this hideous funeral procession, had a hidden agenda and it had nothing to do with the truth or their love for Mama.

Family can be like a nest of birds; eagles, strong and proud or sea gulls, diving to devour and fighting over stinking, rotting fish carcasses.

I am the Eagle I live in high country. There goes John singing again.

Some days are diamonds and some days are stones.