Well, first of all, I'm no longer in Managua....Second, although I do occasionally follow happenings there (especially now, with all the post-election violence and instability), I just don't have the time to maintain this blog.
As many of you well know, I'm up to my eyeballs learning Bulgarian. So, my hopes are, in the future, to start a similar site dedicated to Bulgaria, and our future plans in Sofia. So....it's been a fun ride, and I will leave all of this material up for posterity. Likewise, I will link up my new Bulgarian blog in the coming year (once I get my head wrapped around the past-perfect tense and the subjective voice of the Bulgarian langauge!)
Managua will always hold a dear place in my heart. It was the best of times, the worst of times, to paraphrase an English master.
Va pues!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
A New Beginning in the US!
Congratulations to Barack Obama and the rest of our country. A change is gonna come! Now we can 'reel in the years' of Bush mismanagement and move forward!
Friday, June 27, 2008
Turtle Man
Since I'm a stone's throw from Kentucky, I'll give you a little taste of the Bluegrass State's own Turtle Man...Enjoy!
Monday, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
Last Post from Managua
Well, I sit here enjoying a little champagne....err, well, Nica-champagne from Pricemart. It's the best I can do, and I guess that's the theme for anyone living in a place like Nicaragua. It's been good, it's been bad, it's been sobering. Ironically, I've spent as little time possible in that state of mind, but it's inevitable that you learn a lot from an experience, such as living here.
Sure, you'll run across people that tell you it's paradise in Nicaragua, but I think they're wrong, at least partly. Before you argue with me, consider....there are beautiful people, places, and things to do here. But, in the end, the heaviness of the poverty trumps everything. I'm confident Africa and other locales are much worse, but for me, right now, I've had enough for a little while. So....I leave tomorrow with a sobering experience...
I wonder what healthy perspective I will have 2 weeks from now, as I dine off of the fat of the land to the north??
Thoughts, comments?? I know that some of you that read this drivel have actually lived here as well. I'd love to hear your final thoughts as you left...and how your memory serves you after returning to a 'normal' Western world....
Sure, you'll run across people that tell you it's paradise in Nicaragua, but I think they're wrong, at least partly. Before you argue with me, consider....there are beautiful people, places, and things to do here. But, in the end, the heaviness of the poverty trumps everything. I'm confident Africa and other locales are much worse, but for me, right now, I've had enough for a little while. So....I leave tomorrow with a sobering experience...
I wonder what healthy perspective I will have 2 weeks from now, as I dine off of the fat of the land to the north??
Thoughts, comments?? I know that some of you that read this drivel have actually lived here as well. I'd love to hear your final thoughts as you left...and how your memory serves you after returning to a 'normal' Western world....
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Mixed Emotions
I'm not the only one......with mixed emotions (so goes the song)[Keith + Mick]
Yep, Managua is almost in the rearview mirror now. There are two prevailing groups of people that we encounter these days, the ones that we've shared our lives with the last two years, and the ones that we're about to reunite with.
As for the latter, this part is easy.... We'll soon be with friends and family, recounting our 2 years apart, catching up and retelling stories, showing our sons the things and people that they've been missing. Filling in the blanks on those that we hold dear....our American roots, the people, places, and things that make up who we are/were/and will be.
The leaving is the hardest part though. On one hand, I feel the excitement of the move, the cleansing of the soul, not to mention all the excess 'stuff' that we've eliminated from our lives. But, as the days wear on, we say goodbye to more and more people, to folks that we've shared our lives with, to those that have merely made it easier. Nicaragua can be a rough place. Aside from all the beaches, cocktail parties, and so forth, I'm leaving behind a country that is much worse off than it was when I arrived. This week, I'll say goodbye to our gardener. You can see the stress in Juan's eyes, as he contemplates his future without ready employment. In a country with over 40% unemployment and booming inflation, he's about to enter an insecure world, free of grass clippings and a steady salary. In truth, there are thousands of Juan's in this country, and after a while, you begin to deaden inside a little bit.
On a more personal note, last night we said goodbye to perhaps our closest friends here in Managua....a family with which we've shared the good times, along with the bad. It didn't hit me until last night as we were leaving....this is a tough life that we are leading, traipsing through the world, making friends, saying goodbye...a cruel cycle for the sentimental. So it goes.... I'm not good at saying 'goodbye', because there's a sense of finality that I believe only comes with death. For that reason, I refuse to succumb to the idea that I'll never see them again. Indeed, we've already began preliminary plans to reunite in either Bulgaria or the United Arab Emirates (their probable destination). Not burdened (too much) by our Spanish language deficiencies, we've spent many a hazy Sunday sitting on their porch, sharing our life experiences, while watching our children grow up, literally. I can remember our sons, as they first met, marveling at a grasshopper toy that they both coveted, and the subsequent 'meeting/evaluation of the parents' that followed. An essential guide to Managua social life for expat parents, socializing through our children necessitates finding adults that you enjoy being around. In some ways, I felt more akin to them than some of my own compatriots here. Today, they leave for their native Spain. They will be sorely missed.
So it goes....in a bit, I'm heading out to say farewells at Brodie's preschool, a despidida, as they say here. There will be cake, songs, a celebration, and other fanfare. But, at the end of the day, it will yet another 'goodbye'. Our son has finally begun to show signs that the move is affecting him as well. He hasn't been himself the last couple days, and we suspect that the heaviness of knowing that he won't see his friends is weighing him down. Sure, he'll enjoy the cake and festivities, but I know, deep down, his heart is heavy. For that, mine is too...
Yep, Managua is almost in the rearview mirror now. There are two prevailing groups of people that we encounter these days, the ones that we've shared our lives with the last two years, and the ones that we're about to reunite with.
As for the latter, this part is easy.... We'll soon be with friends and family, recounting our 2 years apart, catching up and retelling stories, showing our sons the things and people that they've been missing. Filling in the blanks on those that we hold dear....our American roots, the people, places, and things that make up who we are/were/and will be.
The leaving is the hardest part though. On one hand, I feel the excitement of the move, the cleansing of the soul, not to mention all the excess 'stuff' that we've eliminated from our lives. But, as the days wear on, we say goodbye to more and more people, to folks that we've shared our lives with, to those that have merely made it easier. Nicaragua can be a rough place. Aside from all the beaches, cocktail parties, and so forth, I'm leaving behind a country that is much worse off than it was when I arrived. This week, I'll say goodbye to our gardener. You can see the stress in Juan's eyes, as he contemplates his future without ready employment. In a country with over 40% unemployment and booming inflation, he's about to enter an insecure world, free of grass clippings and a steady salary. In truth, there are thousands of Juan's in this country, and after a while, you begin to deaden inside a little bit.
On a more personal note, last night we said goodbye to perhaps our closest friends here in Managua....a family with which we've shared the good times, along with the bad. It didn't hit me until last night as we were leaving....this is a tough life that we are leading, traipsing through the world, making friends, saying goodbye...a cruel cycle for the sentimental. So it goes.... I'm not good at saying 'goodbye', because there's a sense of finality that I believe only comes with death. For that reason, I refuse to succumb to the idea that I'll never see them again. Indeed, we've already began preliminary plans to reunite in either Bulgaria or the United Arab Emirates (their probable destination). Not burdened (too much) by our Spanish language deficiencies, we've spent many a hazy Sunday sitting on their porch, sharing our life experiences, while watching our children grow up, literally. I can remember our sons, as they first met, marveling at a grasshopper toy that they both coveted, and the subsequent 'meeting/evaluation of the parents' that followed. An essential guide to Managua social life for expat parents, socializing through our children necessitates finding adults that you enjoy being around. In some ways, I felt more akin to them than some of my own compatriots here. Today, they leave for their native Spain. They will be sorely missed.
So it goes....in a bit, I'm heading out to say farewells at Brodie's preschool, a despidida, as they say here. There will be cake, songs, a celebration, and other fanfare. But, at the end of the day, it will yet another 'goodbye'. Our son has finally begun to show signs that the move is affecting him as well. He hasn't been himself the last couple days, and we suspect that the heaviness of knowing that he won't see his friends is weighing him down. Sure, he'll enjoy the cake and festivities, but I know, deep down, his heart is heavy. For that, mine is too...
Monday, June 9, 2008
Yin and Yang of Managua Parties
Tale of two parties....Saturday night's party was great. What a treat, spending the evening with some of my closest friends in Managua. Sunday afternoon was not so great, sitting around like a hungover lizard, listening to drivel from a bunch of Nica freeloaders. More about that later....
But first, let me say that Saturday night's party was a fitting end to my party circuit in this hazy Central American capital. In all, about 40-50 folks from the Embassy community showed up, including a couple friends from the Manzanita mafia (a Spanish-Nica couple that we've come to know through our son's preschool). Let's see, I drank keg beer, ate chocolate cake, did shots of tequila, even played wiffle ball with some Americans and a Swedish couple (ahem, I even hit one over the house, which, in my book, is a homerun!). I let my hair down, so to speak....which to my good fortune, is all possible when you live 3 houses away from the gala locale....by the way, kudos and special thanks to the hostess that made all this possible.
Perhaps as a sign of how good a time I was having, I have no idea when I got home. All I know, is that I drained every last second out of the fun. As they say in sports, 'I left it all on the field'....
On the other hand, yesterday's 'despidida' was a different story. As some of you may know, I take tennis lessons here in Manangua. My teacher, the patriarch of Managua's most renowned tennis family, had been inviting me for some time to partake in a weekend 'lechon', or a Nica pig roast. One of his cousins owns a restaurant just outside of town, and knowing that my time is short here, I finally relented. It's not that I didn't want to go, it just seems that there is always something else going on.
So, around 10am, I show up with my tennis prof, at which point I'm really hungover from the previous evening's festivities. So, what do you think I do.....ahem, have a beer! Good grief!! So it went.... I spent the next 3-4 hours shooting the breeze with Jorge and a menage of Nica troubadours, ranging from close cousins, to just plain thirsty acquaintances. Around 2 pm, I decided that I'd had enough. I don't know if it was one guy 'offering' one of his female teenage cousins to me that did it, or was it the proclamation that 'Americans are narrow-minded'. Maybe it was the banter about American politics, revealing an ignorance that borders on a time in America when folks sat around the general store and waxed poetic about things they had no knowledge about whatsoever. I mean, where do you begin? But after all, I'd been invited for this farewell as a send-off, and I'd 'done my time' out of respect.
But, I'm afraid the Sunday Nica brunch left a bitter taste in my mouth. You see, when it was time to go, we asked for the check, which amounted to my prof's cousin bringing me the bill of over $60 and everyone sitting there, staring at me. Unfortunately, I didn't have that kind of cash on me. In fact, I'm lucky I brought much at all. So, I paid what I had, leaving me penniless, fuming, and ..... I still had to give my tennis prof a ride back into town. Not only that, I was letting half the restaurant use my cell phone, as they were all either too thirsty or poor to have any minutes on their phones.
I don't mind paying my share. In fact, in my time in Nicaragua, I've grown accustomed to the idea that, I'm a rich American in their eyes and am made of money. I'm the freaking money tree, nothing more, nothing less. That's the sad reality that prevents most anyone from making any real, genuine friendships in this country. I should've known better. Not only did I spend my Sunday afternoon away from my family, I wasted money on a bunch of freeloading drunks under the guise of 'oh, we're going to miss you....you're different from all the other Americans' nonsense. I can speak the local dialect, carry on conversations for hours on end.....Heck, I can even take my shirt off and play with my bellybutton like some deadbeat Nica drifter. But, at the end of the day, I just another foreigner to leech off of. Sadly, I see this as a metaphor for the greater struggle that goes on in this country.
I feel for the good, honest, hard-working people of this country. The ones like our nanny, a person I have the utmost respect for. Unfortunately, they are almost invisible, amidst the vast majority of those that I have come into contact with in Managua. Every day, I encounter those that cannot see me as an individual, only as someone to dupe and take advantage of. I'd rather be just ripped off in Huembes, than to know someone for a year or so, thinking that perhaps you are more to them than a pathetic handout, only to be disappointed yet again. It's like after getting punched in the gut so many times, you stupidly put your guard down once more, only to be wailed on one last time. Adios Managua!
But first, let me say that Saturday night's party was a fitting end to my party circuit in this hazy Central American capital. In all, about 40-50 folks from the Embassy community showed up, including a couple friends from the Manzanita mafia (a Spanish-Nica couple that we've come to know through our son's preschool). Let's see, I drank keg beer, ate chocolate cake, did shots of tequila, even played wiffle ball with some Americans and a Swedish couple (ahem, I even hit one over the house, which, in my book, is a homerun!). I let my hair down, so to speak....which to my good fortune, is all possible when you live 3 houses away from the gala locale....by the way, kudos and special thanks to the hostess that made all this possible.
Perhaps as a sign of how good a time I was having, I have no idea when I got home. All I know, is that I drained every last second out of the fun. As they say in sports, 'I left it all on the field'....
On the other hand, yesterday's 'despidida' was a different story. As some of you may know, I take tennis lessons here in Manangua. My teacher, the patriarch of Managua's most renowned tennis family, had been inviting me for some time to partake in a weekend 'lechon', or a Nica pig roast. One of his cousins owns a restaurant just outside of town, and knowing that my time is short here, I finally relented. It's not that I didn't want to go, it just seems that there is always something else going on.
So, around 10am, I show up with my tennis prof, at which point I'm really hungover from the previous evening's festivities. So, what do you think I do.....ahem, have a beer! Good grief!! So it went.... I spent the next 3-4 hours shooting the breeze with Jorge and a menage of Nica troubadours, ranging from close cousins, to just plain thirsty acquaintances. Around 2 pm, I decided that I'd had enough. I don't know if it was one guy 'offering' one of his female teenage cousins to me that did it, or was it the proclamation that 'Americans are narrow-minded'. Maybe it was the banter about American politics, revealing an ignorance that borders on a time in America when folks sat around the general store and waxed poetic about things they had no knowledge about whatsoever. I mean, where do you begin? But after all, I'd been invited for this farewell as a send-off, and I'd 'done my time' out of respect.
But, I'm afraid the Sunday Nica brunch left a bitter taste in my mouth. You see, when it was time to go, we asked for the check, which amounted to my prof's cousin bringing me the bill of over $60 and everyone sitting there, staring at me. Unfortunately, I didn't have that kind of cash on me. In fact, I'm lucky I brought much at all. So, I paid what I had, leaving me penniless, fuming, and ..... I still had to give my tennis prof a ride back into town. Not only that, I was letting half the restaurant use my cell phone, as they were all either too thirsty or poor to have any minutes on their phones.
I don't mind paying my share. In fact, in my time in Nicaragua, I've grown accustomed to the idea that, I'm a rich American in their eyes and am made of money. I'm the freaking money tree, nothing more, nothing less. That's the sad reality that prevents most anyone from making any real, genuine friendships in this country. I should've known better. Not only did I spend my Sunday afternoon away from my family, I wasted money on a bunch of freeloading drunks under the guise of 'oh, we're going to miss you....you're different from all the other Americans' nonsense. I can speak the local dialect, carry on conversations for hours on end.....Heck, I can even take my shirt off and play with my bellybutton like some deadbeat Nica drifter. But, at the end of the day, I just another foreigner to leech off of. Sadly, I see this as a metaphor for the greater struggle that goes on in this country.
I feel for the good, honest, hard-working people of this country. The ones like our nanny, a person I have the utmost respect for. Unfortunately, they are almost invisible, amidst the vast majority of those that I have come into contact with in Managua. Every day, I encounter those that cannot see me as an individual, only as someone to dupe and take advantage of. I'd rather be just ripped off in Huembes, than to know someone for a year or so, thinking that perhaps you are more to them than a pathetic handout, only to be disappointed yet again. It's like after getting punched in the gut so many times, you stupidly put your guard down once more, only to be wailed on one last time. Adios Managua!
Saturday, June 7, 2008
More Dylan Politics...
Well, I'm off to yet another party....but, this one actually pertains to us directly, a despidida, or a farewell party for our family, as well as two others in the community. Lots of drink, cabayo bayo, music, and dancing. Should be a lot of fun! A 'blow out' of sorts....I should be plenty thirsty.
So...if you are thirsty, grab a cold one and read this latest story on Dylan and his seeming endorsement of Barack Obama. Enjoy!
Friday, June 6, 2008
The Times They Are A-Changin'
Bob Dylan endorses Barack Obama. Read it here.
Fascinating......Dylan painting masterpieces and endorsing the first black presidential candidate. A long ways from him singing 'When the Ship Comes In' in the early sixties, preceding Martin Luther King Jr.'s 'I have a Dream' speech. Maybe Mr. Dylan will see that dream come true....
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Monkey Wrenches.....Government Style!
Looks like I'm going to have to part with some old friends here in Nicaragua. It seems our government has restrictions on shipping for our 'short-term' move to Arlington for language training. Everything under 37' long must be shipped to our 'onward' assignment in Bulgaria.
Hence, no crib, elliptical trainer, bowflex, kitchen table....and most importantly, a day of reckoning for Jamie's guitars...all 4 of 'em. Looks like I have to choose two to take with me. So....in the spirit of being a good father/husband, I have decided against asking my family to make room for 4 guitars in the trunk of the car this summer, in what will be an epic roadtrip around our great nation.
So...goodbye 12-string Takamine FP-400s.....adios antique 1925 Oscar Schmidt Carl Fischer all-Koa wood Hawaiian parlor guitar....hello eBay, hello cold cash and beer money for, what should be, an exciting summer to come. Who would've ever thought it would come to this! I'm keeping two Nicaraguan-made custom guitars, one I haven't even played yet. I guess if I don't get a fair price for the parlor guitar, I can ship it to some friends in Springfield, Virginia for safekeeping. (that's what I prefer really, the backup, failsafe Jamie gets to keep 3 guitar option...hehehe)
Ahh, the life of nomads!
Hence, no crib, elliptical trainer, bowflex, kitchen table....and most importantly, a day of reckoning for Jamie's guitars...all 4 of 'em. Looks like I have to choose two to take with me. So....in the spirit of being a good father/husband, I have decided against asking my family to make room for 4 guitars in the trunk of the car this summer, in what will be an epic roadtrip around our great nation.
So...goodbye 12-string Takamine FP-400s.....adios antique 1925 Oscar Schmidt Carl Fischer all-Koa wood Hawaiian parlor guitar....hello eBay, hello cold cash and beer money for, what should be, an exciting summer to come. Who would've ever thought it would come to this! I'm keeping two Nicaraguan-made custom guitars, one I haven't even played yet. I guess if I don't get a fair price for the parlor guitar, I can ship it to some friends in Springfield, Virginia for safekeeping. (that's what I prefer really, the backup, failsafe Jamie gets to keep 3 guitar option...hehehe)
Ahh, the life of nomads!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Furniture Shopping
I'm so excited to get to the States and do my furniture shopping. I was planning on going to Ikea until I saw this guy. Now, I may have to go to Alabama for the bedroom set.
Pay Attention!
So, I'm chatting with my folks today... talking about the upcoming move, current happenings with the kids, etc.... I didn't even realize that Tropical Storm Alma was rearing its ugly head off the Nicaraguan coast. You know, when the rainy season starts here, you don't really notice when the streets begin flooding.
From the trash-clogged sewer drains, washed out roads, to the merely befuddled Nica pedestrians, you would've just thought it a normal day. In all, it just rained....and rained some more. Didn't stop me from going to Masaya and chatting up Sergio Zepeda, the famous Nicaraguan luthier that is responsible for my first, and only classical guitar.
'Number 2'
Taking him up on an earlier offer, I commissioned him to make a replica of a Martin OM-45 guitar. (Here's an example) Let me just say, this was the guitar that Roy Rogers, Woody Guthrie, and seemingly every other songster of yesteryear made famous. You see, I have two great keepsakes from Nicaragua. Of course, there is Ewan!! Without question my favorite Nica of all!! Then, there is my classical guitar. So.....I'm going for 'number 3'..... perhaps 'number 2'.......BUT, never will it be 'number 1'!
'Number 1'
So it went today....I set out for the artisan town of Masaya, despite flooded streets, road disintegration, and a tropical storm slamming the Pacific coast....all for my Nica fake Martin guitar! We'll see how it turns out...the 'due date' is June 15th.
From the trash-clogged sewer drains, washed out roads, to the merely befuddled Nica pedestrians, you would've just thought it a normal day. In all, it just rained....and rained some more. Didn't stop me from going to Masaya and chatting up Sergio Zepeda, the famous Nicaraguan luthier that is responsible for my first, and only classical guitar.
'Number 2'
Taking him up on an earlier offer, I commissioned him to make a replica of a Martin OM-45 guitar. (Here's an example) Let me just say, this was the guitar that Roy Rogers, Woody Guthrie, and seemingly every other songster of yesteryear made famous. You see, I have two great keepsakes from Nicaragua. Of course, there is Ewan!! Without question my favorite Nica of all!! Then, there is my classical guitar. So.....I'm going for 'number 3'..... perhaps 'number 2'.......BUT, never will it be 'number 1'!
'Number 1'
So it went today....I set out for the artisan town of Masaya, despite flooded streets, road disintegration, and a tropical storm slamming the Pacific coast....all for my Nica fake Martin guitar! We'll see how it turns out...the 'due date' is June 15th.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Winding Down in Managua Town
Well....the end is drawing near. That is, my adventures in Nicaragua are coming to a close. In the coming days and weeks, I'll try to do a better job with the 'little blog that could'. Actually, I don't even know what this blog is about anymore. I started out with the idea of a kind of a voyeur-ish look at life for an expat in Managua. For better or worse, that never really happened.
At first, there were stories of iguana fishing on the roof with the gardener (read: hot dog chunks, 10 lb. test line....and lots of time on our hands), extravagant piñatas, and even a good ole beach retreat. Then, it morphed into a sort of movie and blues review site....rife with stories of old blind bluesmen and classic movies that I've never seen. Finally, it devolved into a lazy ritual of posting youtube videos that I found interesting, interspersed with some random commentary about the expat life and our lives in general (at this point, I think Mom is the only one paying attention...um, 'hi Mom!').
So, as we wind things down here. Or, shall I say, when we finally decide to take this horse out and shoot it, I'll do my best to put closure on Managua. Who knows, maybe I'll start up another blog when we begin our year of Bulgarian language training in the States. (don't you hate it when folks say, 'we're from "the States"'? It's so.....Gen X.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Thirsty?
The Unhealthiest Drink in America Baskin Robbin’s Large Heath Bar Shake (32 oz)
2,310 calories
266 g sugar
108 g fat (64 g saturated)
Let's look at America's Worst Drink in numbers:
73: The number of ingredients that go into this milkshake.
66: The number of teaspoons of sugar this drink contains.
11: The number of Heath Bars you would have to eat to equal the number of calories found in one Baskin Robbins Large Heath Bar Shake.
8-12: The average number of minutes it takes to consume this drink.
240: The number of minutes you’d need to spend on a treadmill burning it off, running at a moderate pace.
....thanks to Yahoo......
Well, I can't say that I'm ready for this part of my return visit to the good ole U.S. of A. I need to be careful, very careful.....
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
Poor Andruw
Monday, May 5, 2008
Gone Fishin' in San Juan del Sur
Had a great time with some friends from Atlanta. We caught 15 or so mahi-mahi. Unfortunately, we had to get back to the children and couldn't stay longer. It was nice to feel 'free' again, but even nicer to see the innocent faces of our beautiful children. In all, a very relaxing weekend getaway.....a subtle reminder that Nicaragua is like an onion....as you peel away the many layers, you find varying textures and surprises.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Belated Happy Birthday ..... to me.
I'm not usually one to aggrandize my birthday, especially as the years start rolling by.....but, I just have to pass this on to you, even if it is a couple of days late!
Some of my dearest friends (who happen to be Argentine blues musicians) recorded a birthday song for me, and I'd like to share it with you here.
Some of my dearest friends (who happen to be Argentine blues musicians) recorded a birthday song for me, and I'd like to share it with you here.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Meeting Rod Carew
It's not often that you get to chat with a Hall of Famer. It's even more uncommon to do so at an ambassador's house in Nicaragua. A fitting 'birthday present', my encounter with 7-time batting champion Rod Carew was quite memorable.
A friend of mine made it happen...knowing what a baseball junkie I am, she made sure that I was able to meet with the 1977 MVP, as he was here in Nicaragua as a representative for MLB, conducting baseball clinics and whatnot in this already baseball-mad country.
As it turned out, I showed up at the ambassador's house and mingled with some co-workers, sipping on some rum, and before long, the baseball delegation began showing up. There were execs, a handful of Dominican scouts, and, of course, Rod Carew. Biding my time, I eventually got to chat with the famous Twin and Angel icon from the 70s. I think I may have freaked him out when I introduced him to a friend of mine as 'the only man other than Ty Cobb to win 3 consecutive batting crowns'. He responded with eyebrows raised, 'Some people know my career better than I do....'. So, at that point, I decided not to mention that I knew he had stolen home 17 times in his career, and that he and Willie Mays share the distinction of winning Rookie of the Year, the MVP, and a batting title.
What we did talk about was the state of baseball. You see, Carew is a purist. He explained how great the Canseco steroid thing would eventually be for the sport, ferreting out the cheaters and the one-dimensional ballplayers, hellbent on hitting 'jonrones'(home runs). I mentioned that my dad had always taught me to 'hit the ball where it was pitched', and he replied that was what he tried to teach young ballplayers. Notably, he mentioned a particular admiration for Japanese players, such as Ichiro, and he commented that pitchers, such as Nicaraguan-born Dennis Martinez, would do 'whatever it took' to get hitters out (read: cheat).
Interestingly, I found out that Carew was a former Marine, and he and Tug McGraw were very close to being sent to Vietnam. Seeing that everyone at the party was there to chitchat with Carew, I limited my time with him to a subtle 15 minutes or so, returning to the rum and coke circuit with some of my embassy friends. In all, it was a great night.....a perfect beginning for my birthday....
Monday, April 21, 2008
Midnight Hike of Momotombo Volcano
Well, it's about the craziest thing I've done....at least in awhile. Last week, a buddy of mine invited me to hike the Momotombo volcano with him, starting around midnight, and finishing around sunrise, providing great photo opportunities and a unique experience here in Nicaragua, especially since our time here is dwindling.
So, naturally, I accepted.
Seeing that you need special permission from the government, and there are no formal trails at the top, we needed a guide. Indeed, my friend's (Ron) neighbor is a French 'volcanologist', arguably the most experienced volcano climber in all of the region. So, upon arriving at the Frenchman's house in Managua (might I add, this man has a striking resemblance to fallen Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceasescu )
Joining us was 'Ceausescu's' nica wife, 2 Nicaraguan adventurers, and us 'chele' Americans. After a spirited drive to the other side of Lake Managua, we arrived at the foot of the volcano around 11:30 pm.....and off we went!Keep in mind, I had already given everyone in our group the 'once over', meaning I had deduced that I would be able to physically match any of them on this journey, including the wiley 'Ceausescu'. So, we began our midnight journey up a set of switchback-esque trails, through typical Nicaraguan shrubbery and underbrush, until we reached a point where the trees were sparse, and the soil resembled black, sandy, shale.....crushed volcanic rock. Now, I'm no geologist, but I can tell you that is quite challenging, walking up a big black shale hill, taking two steps foreward, one step back..... So it went for....well, the next 2-3 hours.
Around 2am though, we had to take a break. At this point, I kind of realized what I'd gotten myself into. My friend Ron and the Frenchman were leading me on one of the those crazy journeys that you read about in a magazine. The two Nicaraguan adventurers had fallen behind by this time, leaving us battling 40 mph winds in our faces. So, we decided to wait for the lagging Nicas, and sought out shelter under a pathetic shrub. It was decided by Ceausescu that we should 'wait out the wind', and continue in an hour. So there we rested, laying around like some iguanas on uncomfortable volcanic rock.....Oh, did I mention that I completely forgot to pack any warm clothes or sufficient food. (I had a Milky Way bar and bottle of water).
3am. We continue on with our journey. By this time, the true nature of the challenge revealed itself. Due in part to a full moon, I could see the face of the volcano in it's entirety, and doubts began to creep in as to whether I could complete this journey. What was supposed to culminate in a 5-5:30 destination at the top had now become an 'I don't know if we should attempt this because I've never seen the wind like this' from trusty 'Ceausescu'. Adding to the bluster was the fact that clouds had completely enveloped us, limiting visibility severely.
6am. We're definitely not going to summit this thing anytime soon. Not only were the 2 Nica stragglers impeding our efforts, the wind was unbearable, literally picking us up off the ground if you weren't careful. It was also at this point that 'Ceausescu' explained just how steep the summit was, necessitating a frantic 'crawl' to the top...Um, have I mentioned that I'm afraid of heights?!.....
Shine a light on me.....ahh, sun breaks, still no sleep, no food, but I can see all around me. This is a good thing....kind of. Did I tell you that I don't care for heights? So, between 5-7am, I was part of the 'A-team', essentially Ceausescu, his Nica wife, and Ron....who I might add, is the craziest, most ambitious hiker I've ever encountered. He simply chews up mountains and spits them out! So, we get to the point of no return, essentially the 'end game', as we're faced with the last 100 yds. or so to the summit. You know, the part with the 'frantic crawl' to the top. I had previously decided to go for it, overcoming my fears, until Ceausescu's wife opted out. This woman admitted to around 300 successful climbs of the summit, and I was guessing that her good judgment aided her in this number. If she wasn't going, nor was I. You see, the wind and clouds were simply too much....
So, around 7:30am, we made our way down the mountain, taking a brisk 1 hour walk/tumble down the shifting volcanic rock pebbles. It was like downhill skiing on glass shards, making wipeouts less desirable. In the end, I made it down about halfway, where I waited for crazy Ron....and lo and behold, you could see him literally skiing down the steepest face of the mountain, like a crazed downhill skier with no skis. He made it down the face in 10 minutes, whereas it took me a good hour of rock balancing.
By the time we rendezvoused, I had no food, water, or desire to be on the mountain. Furthermore, we had both told our wives that we'd 'be home for breakfast'. Ha! So, by 11am, we made it to the car, completely wiped out, tired, thirsty, and hungry. We hit the road, listened to some Led Zepplin III, and weaved through the normal menage of Nicaraguan Sunday drunks. Aided by Jimmy Page and Fanta soda, we cruised back to 'civilization'....that is, until Ron's Jeep broke down and I enlisted the help of a drunk Nica to fetch us beers while we waited for the tow truck....but friends......that's a different story!!
Monday, April 14, 2008
Bourgeois Town
Well, I just got back from Washington D.C., the nation's capital.... Some of you already know the reason of my visit: to interview to become a Special Agent. Well, folks, it wasn't meant to be.... My background of brewmaster and east European studies didn't parlay well into a career of security and bringing down bad guys. I guess I could've got 'em drunk and bored them to death in the damp, basement room, with tales of Balkan despots....but I digress....
Actually, it was a great trip, a wonderful experience, if only to keep my interviewing skills from becoming too rusty in the hazy rain forests of Nicaragua. It's been awhile since I posted anything on this site, other than the occasional youtube clip and some videos of my offspring. So, here are some of my observations from my recent D.C. trip.
First of all, I must say that I had forgotten just how 'fast-paced' the U.S. is, especially on the East Coast. When I arrived, I was whisked around with great efficiency, from airport to subway station, to taxi stand, etc... One of the first things I did, post-interview, was to check out the Smithsonian. To me, this is a cleansing, reflective exercise. Our nation has a proud and illustrious history. This fact will not be lost upon you if you live in a place like Nicaragua. Don't get me wrong, Nicaragua has a colorful history....
Sadly, though, I found that the American History Museum was closed for renovations, so I quickly changed course, and went to the National Museum of Art. What a great idea! I've always been an avid fan of art. At one point, in my pubescent days, I fashioned myself to be somewhat of an artist. Although my output was modest, by absolutely all accounts, I enjoyed the genre. Naturally, my interest carried over into an appreciation of the artists themselves, their work, and how it fit into the chronology of the craft. So, I spent the better half of my 'free', non-interviewing morning, perusing the labyrinthian maze of our nation's art collection. In particular, I was drawn to the Spanish and Italian masters of the Dark Ages, the iconography of the earliest frescoes and religious themes, as well as the Impressionists of late 19th century fame. Seeing a Van Gogh up close, studying the brush strokes and really taking the time to interpret the paintings, I was really fortunate to be there on a lazy Thursday morning, sans the crowds and hubbub.
Well, gazing at masterpieces can make a man quite hungry, I looked for a bite to eat. But, seeing that it was such a beautiful day, I decided that I would take a nice little 45 minute run around the National Mall. Taking in the din of befuddled schoolchildren from Iowa, sunbathing interns, silver-haired politicos and the like, I ran around, taking it all in... I got to see, firsthand, a loud protest at the Capitol by organized dump truck drivers, honking and making a commotion, while driving around the for everyone to see. I went up and asked one of the drivers what they were protesting, to which he responded, 'high fuel prices man!'. Seems to be a theme these days....
At any rate, after my run, my next plan of action was to check out the Museum of the American Indian. Luckily, I resisted the urge to eat junk from an outside vendor, and decided instead to take my chances on museum fare. I was rewarded with some of the finest museum cuisine imaginable. The restaurant was divided into 5 regions, offering distinct choices that included buffalo chili, tamales, baked salmon, and seafood bisque. I ended up going with the baked salmon, with an asparagus salad, and turnip greens. This was simply the best meal that I'd had in the States in quite a long time. The museum itself was somewhat confusing, as the thematic approach only covered a limited amount of vast, Native American experiences. Overall, the mood is heavy, as the national guilt of Native American eradication is prominently portrayed. ...This fact actually makes me more proud of my country, as we have the confidence and intellectual honesty to explore this topic.
Finally, after a full day of American Indians and Art, I wandered over to the new baseball stadium over by the Navy yard, on the east side of the city. Wow! What a stadium! Now, if the Nationals can only match the impressiveness of the stadium... I showed up around 5pm, a little over 2 hours before the first pitch. For $5, I got a cheap bleacher seat, and moseyed down to try and catch a batting practice home run. Instead, I watched as some annoying 'ball hawk' was snagging everything coming our way. Otherwise, my experience was absolutely positive. The Marlins beat the Nats in a closely fought, late-inning back-and-forth affair. Afterwards, I quickly made it back to Arlington, via the ever-dependable Metro.
All in all, it was a memorable day....and a worthwhile trip to my homeland.
Actually, it was a great trip, a wonderful experience, if only to keep my interviewing skills from becoming too rusty in the hazy rain forests of Nicaragua. It's been awhile since I posted anything on this site, other than the occasional youtube clip and some videos of my offspring. So, here are some of my observations from my recent D.C. trip.
First of all, I must say that I had forgotten just how 'fast-paced' the U.S. is, especially on the East Coast. When I arrived, I was whisked around with great efficiency, from airport to subway station, to taxi stand, etc... One of the first things I did, post-interview, was to check out the Smithsonian. To me, this is a cleansing, reflective exercise. Our nation has a proud and illustrious history. This fact will not be lost upon you if you live in a place like Nicaragua. Don't get me wrong, Nicaragua has a colorful history....
Sadly, though, I found that the American History Museum was closed for renovations, so I quickly changed course, and went to the National Museum of Art. What a great idea! I've always been an avid fan of art. At one point, in my pubescent days, I fashioned myself to be somewhat of an artist. Although my output was modest, by absolutely all accounts, I enjoyed the genre. Naturally, my interest carried over into an appreciation of the artists themselves, their work, and how it fit into the chronology of the craft. So, I spent the better half of my 'free', non-interviewing morning, perusing the labyrinthian maze of our nation's art collection. In particular, I was drawn to the Spanish and Italian masters of the Dark Ages, the iconography of the earliest frescoes and religious themes, as well as the Impressionists of late 19th century fame. Seeing a Van Gogh up close, studying the brush strokes and really taking the time to interpret the paintings, I was really fortunate to be there on a lazy Thursday morning, sans the crowds and hubbub.
Well, gazing at masterpieces can make a man quite hungry, I looked for a bite to eat. But, seeing that it was such a beautiful day, I decided that I would take a nice little 45 minute run around the National Mall. Taking in the din of befuddled schoolchildren from Iowa, sunbathing interns, silver-haired politicos and the like, I ran around, taking it all in... I got to see, firsthand, a loud protest at the Capitol by organized dump truck drivers, honking and making a commotion, while driving around the for everyone to see. I went up and asked one of the drivers what they were protesting, to which he responded, 'high fuel prices man!'. Seems to be a theme these days....
At any rate, after my run, my next plan of action was to check out the Museum of the American Indian. Luckily, I resisted the urge to eat junk from an outside vendor, and decided instead to take my chances on museum fare. I was rewarded with some of the finest museum cuisine imaginable. The restaurant was divided into 5 regions, offering distinct choices that included buffalo chili, tamales, baked salmon, and seafood bisque. I ended up going with the baked salmon, with an asparagus salad, and turnip greens. This was simply the best meal that I'd had in the States in quite a long time. The museum itself was somewhat confusing, as the thematic approach only covered a limited amount of vast, Native American experiences. Overall, the mood is heavy, as the national guilt of Native American eradication is prominently portrayed. ...This fact actually makes me more proud of my country, as we have the confidence and intellectual honesty to explore this topic.
Finally, after a full day of American Indians and Art, I wandered over to the new baseball stadium over by the Navy yard, on the east side of the city. Wow! What a stadium! Now, if the Nationals can only match the impressiveness of the stadium... I showed up around 5pm, a little over 2 hours before the first pitch. For $5, I got a cheap bleacher seat, and moseyed down to try and catch a batting practice home run. Instead, I watched as some annoying 'ball hawk' was snagging everything coming our way. Otherwise, my experience was absolutely positive. The Marlins beat the Nats in a closely fought, late-inning back-and-forth affair. Afterwards, I quickly made it back to Arlington, via the ever-dependable Metro.
All in all, it was a memorable day....and a worthwhile trip to my homeland.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Brodie and Ewan
Here's the latest of Brodie and his baseball travails....He really loves this sport. I think he got the 'baseball gene' from his Grandpops (something that his Poppy didn't seem to get!)
Also, we shouldn't forget little Ewan!
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| Brodie Baseball Part 2 |
Also, we shouldn't forget little Ewan!
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| Ewan Wants Milk |
Friday, March 28, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Avalon Blues - 100th Post
To commemorate my 100th post on my blog, here's a little Mississippi John Hurt....Avalon Blues.......Hope you like it.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Banjo Chris's 'Hunkie Tunkie Blues'
Banjo Chris with another masterful effort. This guy is a true inspiration....and I love the Stella guitar!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Shine On....
Things have been rough lately. I started a new job, had to fire our gardener...the point is....I've been busy. And, based on my last post, bad news abounds in my country. So....here's a nice little surprise. I never knew this guy even existed.
Ladies and Gentlemen.....Leon Redbone....
Ladies and Gentlemen.....Leon Redbone....
Friday, February 15, 2008
Another School Massacre
Well, here we go again.....Another senseless school massacre in the United States. This time the assassin bought his gun, legally, a mere 2 weeks ago. It's like a kid in the candy shop....simple as that. When is enough going to be enough!?
Prepare for the cycle......First, we'll go through the grieving process, asking the 'hows' and 'whys'. Next, it will spin into 'the mind of a killer' and other sensationalist aspects that sell newspapers. (I see 60 minutes has already begun the story.) Afterwards, a brief political debate will ensue, as the lobbies on both sides scrum, with the gun lobby prevailing, reminding Americans that liberal communists want to take guns away, in order to impose an Orwellian, godless state. And, finally, it will return to business as usual in the U.S. of A......until the next massacre.
God Bless America!
Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,
The answer is blowin' in the wind.
Bob Dylan, 1962
Monday, February 11, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Monday, February 4, 2008
Finished 'Linea del Fuego'
Originally planned to be a 25k, it was shortened to 23k, due to lack of runners. Instead, most folks opted for the 15k walk. Undeterred, myself and a handful of Quebecois and Western Europeans braved the heat, steep inclines (and more numerous) sharp declines, curious looks from the Nicas, to complete the trek to Masaya Lake.
We started at El Crucero, and moseyed our way up and down the mountain ridge, taking in the sights, with views of Managua, Masaya, Masaya Volcano, and finally Masaya Lake....Indeed, all things Masaya! At any rate, I completed the 'race' in about 2 hours, 40 minutes......For not training at all, I'll take it!
Here are some photos of the excursion.....Oh yeah, there were many cold beers and much delicious food at the finish line....
Monday Morning Blues Is Back
A little Son House and Blind Lemon Jefferson to get the blood flowing this week.....
First off, 'Preachin' Blues' by a very talented Son House 'disciple'......Enjoy!
And not to be outdone, Blind Lemon's classic 'Pneumonia Blues' by the 'Greek bluesman', George, who's an absolutely splendid understudy of the great Lemon....Note: George claims it is 'horrible', but he is just being overly self-critical. It's good, really good. Keep on posting videos!
First off, 'Preachin' Blues' by a very talented Son House 'disciple'......Enjoy!
And not to be outdone, Blind Lemon's classic 'Pneumonia Blues' by the 'Greek bluesman', George, who's an absolutely splendid understudy of the great Lemon....Note: George claims it is 'horrible', but he is just being overly self-critical. It's good, really good. Keep on posting videos!
Saturday, February 2, 2008
'Line of Fire' 25k Run Tomorrow
Well, I'm excited.....nervous, but excited. I've gone over the itinerary, studied the map....and now, I'm ready. Actually, I haven't been training as hard as my first half-marathon in Buenos Aires in 2005, but this one should turn out okay. To be sure, this 'race' is more of an informal get-together.
So, we'll see what happens. There should be plenty of coffee plantations, clouds, sun, and quizzical looks from the Nicaraguans. I may see some howler monkeys and, hopefully, the finish line.
...then, I can gorge myself with buffalo wings and pizza in time for the Super Bowl... Go Giants!
So, we'll see what happens. There should be plenty of coffee plantations, clouds, sun, and quizzical looks from the Nicaraguans. I may see some howler monkeys and, hopefully, the finish line.
...then, I can gorge myself with buffalo wings and pizza in time for the Super Bowl... Go Giants!
Friday, February 1, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Saturday, January 26, 2008
So, Let Me Get This Straight
In the world of television, tt's okay to show homicide, autopsies, depict rape, abductions, and war, but it's not okay to show a passing glance of a nude woman's caboose?
Apparently, this is what ABC found out recently, as they were ordered to pay out the....... ahem, you know what. What priorities! I'm so glad the FCC is looking out for the well-being of our precious children!
Apparently, this is what ABC found out recently, as they were ordered to pay out the....... ahem, you know what. What priorities! I'm so glad the FCC is looking out for the well-being of our precious children!
Friday, January 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Minesweeper Record...and here I thought my score of 246 was pretty good.
...and here I thought my score of 246 was pretty good.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
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