Los Angeles and The World Cup

I just perused my last blog. It cries out for something, but what? Yeah, I know, a rewrite.

Is there such a thing as a midblog crisis? I'm feeling the urge to buy a fancy new keyboard and entertain younger ideas.

Ah Panama. You gotta love the place. Saturday our friend D was on her way here in a downpour of biblical dimensions over a road that is only familiar with the word paved because there's a sign that says someday it will be so. She got to a part of the road that she knew was narrow and noticed it was narrower yet. Hers is a wide car. Not today, she thought and implemented plan b, which was an alternate route over another road that gives new meaning to the term pot holes. The new meaning is craters. On this road her right rear tire pancakes. Yes pancakes is too a verb. Afortunadamente - possibly my favorite Spanish word - there were three Panamanian construction workers there who were standing around waiting for the rain to stop. Let's call them los angeles, the angels, and if it works out we can name a city after them. These guys jump into the mud and set about changing D's tire. Everything is going fine until they try to release the spare. I don't want to get too technical here, not everyone is a car person, but there is a little hole on the bumper thing through which you stick a weird crooked, tool gismo and latch onto a splocket (I made that up) that you then turn to lower the spare tire onto the ground. Because this was all happening under dark skies, the guys couldn't see into the hole thing to find the latch thing. They needed a flashlight. D didn't have one. What she did have was a cell phone and our number. Happy to play Knight's Errant or is Errand, I grabbed my umbrella and car keys and headed for the beast. "Don't you want the flashlight?" my wife and larger part of my memory hollered after me. "Oh, yeah, sure, that." About twenty minutes later I arrive at the scene and all goes as planned except that neither D nor I have any dinero with us to tip los angeles. Arrangements are made to return and take care of that the following day. Not that it would matter. These guys are Panamanians. They were happy to help. As we drove away in our separate vehicles I was hollering out the window in my best Spanish, "Muchisimas Gracias" and one of the guys was waving and hollering back in his best English, "Hello hello!"

Here's the news you've all been waitng for: The World Cup is underway. Yesterday I watched Mexico defeat Iran 3 to 1. Had I not already determined which teams I was going to pull for, this one would have been easy. Can't root for Iran because they are Evil, Islamic Bad Guys and all that? Nah. They were wearing red. It would be like cheering on Nebraska, it'll never happen. Mexico wore green. What I have decided to do is back all the teams from this hemisphere. And England. When they play each other, I'll think of something else. The U.S. goes against the Czecks? Cezcks? Ceczks? Let's just call them the Check Republic, today. The Credit Card Nation versus The Check Republic. It is being billed(so to speak) as an even match. I hope the U.S. goes with blue.