Juke Joint Jesus

A Note to Self

We know it was hard; so conflicting. All the alcohol, church and backwoods neighbors, created a confusing life. Come to Jesus and daily violence, were family tradition. Wearing beautiful clothes and farm work were contrary concepts. Roadside bus stops gave way to neon signs, in tavern windows. Continue reading “Juke Joint Jesus”

Sunday Morning

not coming down

I use to love the song, about waking up on a Sunday morning, with no way to hold my head up – having a beer for breakfast and dessert. Not having any clean clothes and stumbling through the day. I related.

Sunday’s were bad. It took me years to surrender to a Sunday. The sidewalks roll up. The only drug deals on a Sunday are a rip off. Such as, puchasing a twenty dollar piece of soap. Continue reading “Sunday Morning”

Culture Crack Up/Comfort

The clash is the cost of the comfort.

I wake up. I thank God for a new day. I place my stainless steel kettle, on my cast iron, double burner, preparing water for tea. My kitchen window is a frame for a hibiscus hedge. They create a view of lush green leaves and red flowers. It could be worse. It’s no longer the meadow, where I watched horses and foal wander aimlessly, grazing. They were  pieces, of my picturesque puzzle, of Costa Rica. From the pioneer days. A time when no one wanted to be in Potrero. They called our pueblo, the Bronx. Some, simply have no vision. Continue reading “Culture Crack Up/Comfort”

IT can get away from you…

Time – that is

It’s the morning. I have to get up and get my tea.

I have already spent to  much time on Facebook. I don’t understand why I even bother. It gives me a boring home feed. Maybe, that’s because I have my age listed as 105. That’s as old as they will allow. It’s none of their business how old I am.

I will be off to Crossfit. I wouldn’t miss it.

Then I take a trip to San Jose. Or at least, that’s what it says on my calendar.

What day is it?

Who cares?