ABUELITO

Abuelito taught me how to roller blade, he wrapped a pillow around my butt with his belt and dragged me in the hallway of the building we lived in and showed me how to move my feet. I don’t think he ever had time to learn to be a kid and roller blade himself.

He would playfully and ever so delicately step on my bare feet and tease “I like your shoes” when I was running barefoot around the house. He thought I would catch my death from being pata pela’.

He would lean over and sing the same song to me in the morning to wake me up, and pinch my big toe and tickle me awake.  He had a terrible voice, such sweet sound.  I would wake up sometimes with my big toes tied together with a string.

He would tinker around the house with his tool box, making sure the door hinges were oiled and the door knobs were always working.

When he was fourteen he joined the circus and worked the trapeze. He also one time had a hot dog stand and wouldn't make any money on it because he would give away more hot dogs than he sold.

He built shelves in my Kindergarten’s classroom so my school mates and I had somewhere to put the toys. He built coat hangers so we have somewhere to hang our tiny sweaters. Everyone in school was enchanted by him.

He would help me build all my science projects and I always got an A because they were the most original and creative, because his mind and soul was original and creative.

My grandpa used to hide me when I did something wrong and I was going to get a spanking. No one dared to go around him to come get me, even if I had been bad and deserved the punishment. He would wink and tease a laugh and a smile out of my pursuer and convince them I was sorry and there was no need for more punishing. I would smirk at the pursuer, safe behind abuelito and poke my tongue out.

His hands were always callused, and somehow always soft.

He used to wear a little hat that is popular now; my abuelito was a trend setter. It went well with his scholarly cardigans and his buttoned shirts and twill pants.

He liked to eat candy and café con leche really sweet. He enjoyed food, all kinds of food and loved my mom’s cooking.

He had wit and was a rascal and a flirt.

Growing up I never heard him say anything bad about anybody. He was humble, good humored and eternally patient.

He loved to fall asleep in front of the TV watching the telenovelas with his wife, my abuelita, whom he adored more than life itself.

He always lost contact lenses. He used to tell me they “jumped” out of his eyes and he would ask me to help him look because I was sharp eyed and light of foot and wouldn’t break them if I stepped on them, somehow the contacts were always stuck to his fingers or laying in wait clinging to shirt.

Then I got older and complained to my mom one time that he would misfire when peeing and I was tired of stepping on the wet floor. I am so ashamed.

What I wouldn’t give to have abuelito, and have him sing to me in the morning, to wake up with his wrinkled smile and that twinkle in the eye he never lost. What I wouldn’t do to turn back time and hug him once more when he helped me get that A, and take in that scent of coffee and talc and metal that used to cling to him.

I would give him all the arepas he stole jokingly from my plate at dinner, I would sacrifice the pan de acemita that he loved so much, I would make him coffee extra sweet like he liked it. I would sit with him to watch the soap operas and ask him to tell me the tale of the capon rooster (a story that goes and goes around in circles, with no end and no beginning)

I would hug him tight and ask him to never let go, and hope that maybe with that hug some of his ingeniousness, his laughter, his good temper, his patience, his gentle heart, his noble nature would rub on me.

Abuelito was the only abuelito I have ever known and he so made for it, he counted for three hundred abuelitos. My abuelito had no equal.  Now I have no abuelito anymore and the world seems to have lost its luster, there is no more magic, no more whimsy, abuelito took it all.

THE DANGERS OF FLORIDA ROADS

Dear Reader,

In this post I will discuss the dangers of driving in Florida

Danger No. 1: The ever present snow birds, which almost always are way too old to drive and sometimes even turn onto oncoming traffic.

Danger No. 2: Drunk or hungover club rats.

Danger No. 3: Lazy/Stupid Fauna, which includes the following: Ditzy squirrels, escaped cats and dogs, too fat to fly ducks, slow raccoons and opossums, angry gators, misplaced coyotes and once in a while the random black bear, a deer or two if you are driving north and the scarce Florida Panther.

Danger No. 4: Canadians who actually respect the traffic laws and don’t know how to drive around all the crazy Hispanics.   The other North Americans that aren’t Canadian have learned to survive us and drive like us as a form of self preservation. If you can’t beat them, join them! (I’m looking at you Dear Husband)

Danger No. 5: ME!

That’s right. I am danger number 5. I am now legally roaming the Florida roads because dear reader, yours truly finally has a driver’s license. Hooray! Woo Hoo!

Not only do I have a driver’s license but after four years of saving I own my little adorable Mazda 3. Not the Bank, not the dealership, but Me, I, Moi! YO!!  I own it. My very own car with my very own driver’s license. *Insert victory dance*

I probably was the only 30 year old who took that driving test today. They actually announced over the speaker system in the DMV when the first timer’s got their DL. They were all gangly, pimply faced and sixteen. I was so grateful they didn’t announce my sorry ass over the speaker, being a 30 year old first time driver is kinda weird.

During the driving test the lady spent the entire time scolding me for driving with one hand (how am I going to use turning signal without letting go of the wheel?) and scolding me for talking back like she was my mom. She then told me that I passed the test but that I drove like a “latino”. She would know since she was Venezuelan from Caracas and people in the capital drive like maniacs.

It still feels weird to drive, even though I legally can and I know how, I still feel unsure, I guess cockyness will come with experience, right now I drive super carefully and afraid of everything on the road.

Another thing to celebrate is that I actually don't look bad on my DL pic, a Christmas Miracle!

Anyway, Florida drivers beware!!

HOLIDAYS AND THE HISTORY CHANNEL

Watching the History Channel’s new series “Mankind: The Story of all of us” might not be the best to watch during the holiday season. Maybe watching Falalala Lifetime is a better idea.

Yesterday we were watching Episode 2 in the series of 6 and it was just downright depressing! What exactly have we learned since the beginning of mankind? Not much. Oh sure, we have advances in technology and civil rights for women and minorities have expanded in parts of the world, and we don’t have to die of a fever or for stepping on a nail or giving birth. Sure we have been to the moon (or not according to conspiracy theorist) and we can communicate across the world in ways never imagined 20 years before…. but mankind’s core remains the same, hateful and greedy.

All the wars and slaughter we learn about with cold detachment when watching the show, are the same wars as always. Wars started because My God is better than Yours, that land used to be my land, that money should be my money, that position of power you have is the one I want. The worst part is that historically it seems there is never enough power, enough money, enough land, and enough people dying in the name of their Gods to satisfy humanity’s apparent thirst for warfare.

The wars haven’t changed, the reasons haven’t changed the only thing that has changed is HOW we kill each other, more efficiently and quicker (interesting things to take pride on).

That is why I love this video that keeps floating about the interwebs: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ID0kgP9IVhs 

Why do I love it? Well aside from the fact that deep down I am a sucker, it is also because it gives me a little hope for humanity. Actually it doesn’t restore my hope for humanity, because humanity as a whole is just a cesspool of everything Mr. Grinch is (an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of rubbish imaginable mangled up in tangled up knots). But it does remind me that individuals are capable of small acts of goodness and amazing feats of generosity.  Now more than ever we need to hope that as individuals we can be amazing.

 

Humanity is nothing more than a mob waiting for someone to attack, someone to hang and throw rocks at. Why? Because, because you are thinner, or prettier, or richer, or believe in Aliens, or don’t, or I don’t like your God, or you are brown, or white, or yellow, or a red-head, or a midget, or morbidly obese, or blond, a virgin or a slut. No matter what, humanity doesn’t need a reason to hate it just does. Why? Because that’s what society teaches, it teaches hatred and intolerance towards everything that is different from what you know. 

My sister says that every ill on this world is because of lack of love. If someone is rude to her in the bank/supermarket/bus she just thinks to herself “that person needs more love, a hug, a girlfriend, a good conversation, a shoulder to lean on” Love in her book, can fix everything and lack of love is the root of all evil.

When I continue watching this show and feeling as if we have learned nothing and that we have actually emotionally and spiritually devolved, I will try to remember those happy commercials when people actually act like a superior species.  Not because of opposable thumbs, use of tools, intelligence and accomplishments but because we are evolved enough to be good, kind, respectful of one another.

So go ahead, let’s not allow history repeat itself; open a door, give up a seat, hold that secret, don’t share that juicy gossip, keep the snark to a minimum, smile to everyone, give hugs, be nice, be just, be kind.  According to the commercial it only takes one.