Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Gone 'Round the Bend

Well of course I'm insane. It's never been any big secret. That I actually believe in the Golden Rule and don't believe in any war in which people are killed or wounded, along with the inescapable truth that I love and play golf, all bear witness to my insanity. That I'm not a danger to myself or others has kept me from padded cells and rubber rooms so far, but incarceration is only a naked romp through downtown away. My latest walk on the whack-o side gives further credence to my dementia, but before you all rush to there he goes again judgment, I ask only that you look at the photos that accompany today's blog. How could I, given the scrambled eggs that are my heart and brains, possibly NOT have yielded to this latest and greatest mad impulse? It simply could not be done. Well, not by me anyway.

His name is Finnegan, probably Finny for short. Raffy, Matty, Finny has a certain flow to it and closeness of sound that when calling one I'm likely to get all. That works for me as I'm reminded that Woowoo Charly still calls our daughters Laurakiradara when signaling for one of them just to make sure the right name is in there somewhere. Finnegan is an eight week old Golden Retriever and of course the "Golden" is a part of the rule I mentioned earlier. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you and if you get an opportunity to get a Golden Retriever jump on it." It's in the Bible. You can look it up. It's the reason it's called the "Golden" rule.

Anyway, we bought him at Melo the same store where we found Raffi and Matti. We were there, in fact, to get those pups their latest series of shots. Finnegan was in his Melo cage putting the eyes on me as we walked by. He was telepathy-ing like a pro that he sure would like to be part of our pack. He said the Cockers looked like fun dogs and I seemed like a nice guy even if I was somewhat..."touched" is how he put it. Turns out touched is something dogs look for in a pack leader. I thought "are you sure?" and he thought back, "you bet" so about an hour later he was riding home on Woowoo Chuck's lap with the other mutts while I drove and RTGFKAR made us promise there would be no more dogs. I wondered then if Melo ever carried pygmy goats.

So I'm up at ten minutes to four, pajama clad, standing in the rain watching a fur ball sniff about for a likely spot to pee while I whisper encouragement. It's not really crazy you know. It's just, well...okay it's crazy. I love it though. And that's the craziest part.

Addendum: Woowoo Charly say she knew I was a goner the minute I saw the dog, but then she's been around the lunacy for a long long time. And, of course, it is catching.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Paciencia

My rule of thumb - and for those of you who don't know the origin of that phrase, it was once a law that you couldn't beat your wife with any stick thicker than your thumb - is that if you have to go to lovely and talented Daveed for more than two tasks, plan on spending the day. Paciencia, patience, is seriously required. Seriously required. Did I mention seriously required?

George Brewster, a Panamanian who speaks fluent English, and I set out in his tired Chrysler Something Small with no back bumper, windows you pulled up by grabbing glass with your hands and George's own propensity for driving fast. Very fast. Our mission, which we had chosen to accept, was to rescue friend V's car from the Ministerio of Something I've Forgotten where cars that had been stolen, but recovered were now housed. To accomplish this mission we had to do two things before hand. First we had to renew my expired driver's license at the Bureau of Expired Driver's Licenses and then we had to buy a new battery for V's car as the old one was muerte, which is Spanish for kaput.

At the License Bureau, after waiting in line, we were told that my application for a new one would have to be processed in Panama City and I would have it in about a week...or so. We could, however, go around the corner to another motor vehicle office where Olga could fix me up with a one day temporary pass to drive. Alrighty then, on to Olga.

We found Olga and a long line in front of her desk. When our turn came, Olga, did something on her computer, determined the system was down, but no te procupe, not to worry, she still had her phone. The line to Pan City, however, was busy. It remained busy until we said screw it and left to buy a battery.

Our quest had begun at eight. It was now quarter to ten. As Pricesmart was close by, we waited in its parking lot until it opened at ten. They didn't have the right kind of battery. Twenty minutes later we found a parts store that did. We made our purchase and were off to the Ministerio.

We entered and passed through the metal detector which I miraculously did not set off. I mean usually my steel corded musculature and iron will have them beeping like crazy. (They do so.) We mentioned the name of the person we needed to see at the security kiosk and were sent to room such and such a flight up. There we found a receptionist after my own heart, she was wearing a winter jacket against the chill of the air conditioner, who told us to have a seat and she would alert Mr. So and So. Some twenty minutes after that, Mr. So and So appeared. He had some paperwork in hand, looked officious and we therefore figured all signs were go. Well wrongo Bureaocracy breath! He asked us where the mechanic was and our quick thinking reply was, "Huh? What mechanic?" He carefully explained that we needed a certified mechanic to examine the car for damage so that any insurance claims we had would be verified. We got on the phone to V's abogada, lawyer, who had arranged this whole pick up. She said she could get us a mechanic by two o,clock. Nevermind, we said. We could find one faster. Behind the Ministerio, but around the corner, was a huge car repair place, Pepe's. After waiting in Pepe's office awhile, he assigned a mechanic to us with a set price of $40 dollars. This was ten dollars cheaper than the lawyer had said her guy would be, so we agreed. We returned to the Ministerio, rounded up Mr. So and So and attempted to install the new battery. I don't know the Spanish for alas, I'll look it up later, alas, a pause and a long sigh are always required after saying alas.....The battery terminals were on the wrong side for this model car. We would have to go back and exchange it. However on the bright side, Mr. So and So said the mechanic's five minute inspection of the non running car would suffice and he need not return. As it was now nearing noon when the Ministerio shut down for two hours of almuerzo, lunch, two o,clock was our new target time.

We exchanged the battery, dined leisurely at Pizza Hut and returned to the Ministerio at twenty minutes to the hour. After watching a telenovela, soap opera, and discussing women, George's favorite topic, we hooked up once again with Mr. So and So who led us to the Evidence Room in the basement of a parking garage where the attendant asked me if I had voted for Obama. When I replied of course, he gave out with a small cheer. After that I signed several papers and then we waited as Mr. So and So went off with them to make copies. Upon his return we were taken to the car where we installed the battery and determined the car needed gas and power steering fluid. No one asked me to show my driver's license, so I drove off in search of the nearest petrol.

V was in Bocas and our plan was to leave her car at the airport so it would be there to drive when she returned. I hit the first gas station between the Ministerio and the airport and put in enough gas to make the needle move off empty. The station, however, had no power steering fluid so we had to back track and find another. When we eventually made it to the airport, I left the car keys at the National Car Rental Booth, part of the plan. I then hopped back into George's jalopy and we headed home.

First though, we stopped at KFC so I could take a bucket home to Woowoo Charly and RTGFKAR who are addicted to the 13 Herbs and Spices the chicken is reputed to have. This I knew, would make me a hero and if you can be a hero by simply going to a Drive-thru I'm all for it.

We were back in Boquete at five. Eight to five, a full day. Coulda, woulda, shoulda, if you are into that, taken no more than three hours. Four at the most.

Lucky for me I have paciencia. (I do so!)I knew this was an all dayer. George, on the other hand, displayed some frustration throughout the day, but always in good humor. George, I should point out is 36. At 36 was I patient?

Sure I was.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Back in my Swiveling Saddle

After a visit from D.C. Dave, Diapering Diva Dara and Jumping to his own Jive Jackson, I took ill - okay I didn't really take it, it gave itself to me voluntarily - and my hand was stayed from my usual keyboard kaleidoscoping. "Not to worry" the Red Queen said, "one more cough and it's off with his head." (I am reminded that it is not the cough that carries you off, it's the coffin.)

I'm back now though, strong enough to press down random keys that make no sense to all but a demented few, you my trusty readers. You are trusty aren't you? (The demented is a given or why else would you be reading this?)

This morning I learned a lesson from my puppies as with careful attention I so often do. (Now there's a sentence.) No matter how rapidly you rush through life, and the pups are especially good at that, you should take time to stop, as they do, and eat the flowers. The yellow ones in particular.

I have to write a "Noir" story. I'm considering this for an opening:

She sauntered into the office like there was something on her mind, but I could see she was far too pretty and far too blond for that to be the case. She paused a moment to blow a curl from her left eye with a little puff out the corner of her mouth. She looked us over for a second or two, then fixed her baby blues on me as she said, "Is there a Dangerous Dick here?"

"It's Dick Danger" I said. "What can I do you for, Dollface?"

Ah, it feels good to have the Monkeymind leaping about again.

I love this line from "Milking the Moon", an as told to biography of Eugene Walter. Never heard of him you say? Well neither did I, but he's an interesting guy who had an interesting life. Anyway the line: "New york is a battleground. Paris is a ruined garden." Think about that for awhile. Okay are you done? Now tell me what it means.

We have half of an intense rainbow, the right half, arcing outside my office window. The other half was eaten by aliens or maybe Pacmen. It just disappears right at the highest point of the curve. Weird I tell ya, weird.

Okay I'm done. Except for that moon hiding behind the tree. Can you see it? I got that shot from two months ago. I've been waiting for just the right moment to post it and this is clearly that moment. I did, afterall, use the word moon a couple of paragraphs ago.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

More Dog Stuff

Yabba dabba do, alrighty then. Another less than cheerful looking morning here in Paradise With Rain. We've got a sky full of gray glop, rain dripping from eaves to my fore and mud a-mounting all around. Aside from that I have nothing to say which is about as unusual as dishes in the sink.

We made a sudden burst to Lovely and Talented David yesterday and brought the pups along for the ride. We thought they'd sleep after having had a raucus romp earlier in the day with me and their pal Kooka. Kooka is a seven or eight month old Husky pupling that has replaced Old Girl as the latest neighborhood canine to adopt us whether we like it or not. Old Girl has been absent the premises - I know because I check my premises, (That's a kind of inside joke I made for myself) for over two weeks and we suspect she may now be napping curled on a warm spot, making small snores and funny dog snorfs as she dreams about steak in the Great Doggieland Beyond. We were wrong about the pups sleeping though. They stayed awake so they could barf loudly and repeatedly throughout the drive. Ah the joys of dog raising. What could be more fun?

We made it to PriceSmart after a couple of stops to clean up the mess and I volunteered to walk the dogs while RTGFKAR and Woowoo Charly took the first shift in the store. A security guard shooed me and the pups away from the building's front, but not before Matti had dropped a line of doggie dumps along the sidewalk fronting the rows of shopping carts. At the security guards request, I further volunteered to pick up the piles and slam dunk them into a handy trash barrel. This was done with the aid of a rapidly shrinking roll of paper towels we had brought along as a "just in case" measure. We are far seeing people.

We had other stops to make, EH (Everything For the Home)and Do-It-Center. At EH we learned that they had everything for the home except the bar stools we had ordered weeks ago. In truth, they did have them, but they had sold the lot to someone else. We ordered more. At Do-It, Woowoo Charly bought a couple pillows which is like buying tools at Bed, Bath and Beyond. I don't know her reasoning but it was probably something along the lines of "you can fix darn near everything with a couple of good pillows."

The ride home was uneventful unless you consider puppy puking an event. Future trips will be "sin cachorros" (without the mutts) until they have the stomachs for it.

Alrighty then, indeed.

Friday, January 02, 2009

The First Day Of....

The first day of the rest of my life began at seis y media en punto, six thirty on the dot. Raffi and Matti were making noisy appeals for freedom from their kennel that couldn't be ignored. I rolled out of bed, dressed and set about my morning chores. I made a pot of coffee, put away last night's dishes and unlocked the front and back doors. I then turned the now seriously crazed puppies loose and they bee-lined to the yard. While they sniffed about for the just right spot to deposit the remains of their last night's dinner, I carried the patio furniture outside. We bring it in at night to assure we will still have it in the morning. I then walked the dogs completely around our house twice which is an exercise that further stimulates their ability to place doggie land mines in random, but somehow carefully selected spots. Why else all that sniffing and circling about before the squat? When I was reasonably sure they had nothing left to donate to the yard work, I brought out their bowls of kibble. The dogs eat their morning meal, separated by our glass patio door. This keeps Raffi the stronger of the two from bogarting all the food. Up to this point my day had not differed a whit from all the days that had gone before since the puppies moved in. Now though, instead of bringing out my guitar and brutalizing the morning stillness with discordant chords, I leashed up the mutts and said "Alrighty then, let's hit the trail." The dogs were all for it.

We walked down our unpaved driveway to the unpaved servidumbre (access road) that ultimately leads to a paved road that takes you to downtown Boquete or up a hill to parts unknown. I've been up the hill to where the pavement ends, a kilometer or so, but no further. My goal as we trekked over the rocks and rubble of our servidumbre that is a now barely passable by car disaster since November's flood, was simply to walk out for half an hour and then walk back; exercise for mutts and man alike. We passed several indian men carrying baskets and bags on their way to pick coffee beans and small herds of noisy indian children on their way to...somewhere. I think school is out now as December starts Panama's summer. Apart from these people, all encountered on the servidumbre, we had the hike to ourselves. I opted to go up the paved road to see how far we would get in our allotted half hour, ten minutes of which had already expired. Progress when walking two puppies is slow as a lot of time is spent separating entwined leashes and encouraging the noses with dogs attached to not stop at every interesting scent. We made it almost to pavement's end before my watch said it was time to turn around. The dogs didn't protest when I headed them home. The small flaw in my plan to make this walk a morning hour was that the trip back took less than twenty minutes, the result of going downhill and puppies in a seeming hurry to get home. We will go further out on the morrow.

When we got back to the house we found RTGFKAR up and about and Woowoo Charly stirring. I put the pups on the bed with her to further the wake up process and then headed here to the office and my computer. Somewhere along the way I found a cup of coffee.

As a follow up to the line "The first day of the rest of my life began" one would reasonably expect something with a more dramatic tone than a dog walk. I shaved my head and entered the monastery might be good or perhaps I told my boss to shove it and drove to Vegas. The dog walk, though,works for me. I consider it a damn good start.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

Resolutions

Tomorrow, the second day of January, that's the bigee. It's foolish to try'n start your life changing resolutions on the first of January. The first of January is a holiday. Why would anyone want to spoil a perfectly good holiday by eschewing this that and the other evil thing that dogs them or add a healthful regimen in the middle of a party. Tomorrow, I say, tomorrow is the day for changes. Either that or the day after.

My own changes are the same old tired batch of resolutions I make every year. Write more, drink less, eat less, exercise more, practice guitar regularly, get the stumps pulled out, slop the hogs, milk the chickens, see the ball, follow through, be present, respect my elders, turn off unnecessary lights, get a good night's sleep, travel the world teaching kindness, humility and how to be Number 1, get a hole in one or at least in two, shimmy like my sister Kate, dance with the stars, make sure my shoes are shined and my nails are clipped, spend Tuesdays with Morrie or Larry maybe Moe, eat more vegetables and fruit, ask my doctor if Viagra is right for me, let the sun shine in, walk the plants, water the dogs, be-bop-a-lula, fly the friendly skies, get the lead out, learn more Spanish, swear less or more colorfully, read only good stuff, do the macarena and the locomotive, decline taking a cabinet position, get out more, spend more time at home, hike, bike, badmitten, mow the lawn, maintain the car, prevent forest fires, learn from my mistakes, put my toys away, brush regularly, beat the band, don't rain on parades, say a little prayer, whistle while I work, inka-dinka-do every chance I get and, of course, zippedy-doodah whenever my doodah is open, just to name a few.

Not today though, tomorrow.