Our Man in Antigua

a posteriori, of course. I think I’m acquiring an appreciation for some Guatmalteca’s ‘assets’…some exceedingly tasty ladies in tight jeans strolling around 5th and the park and a lotta people headed for La Merced…parking lot jammed, bells ringing…is there a big wedding or a big bingo payout tonight? It could be worse, if one were in India at a Hindu wedding. They go on for days: the bridegroom usually rides on a white horse, dressed like a Rajah prince, jeweled turban, sword etc. Once I saw the bride arrive in a very fine late 40’s  white Buick convertible..on their wedding night the bride wears a red tikka spot on her forehead and when they’re finally alone, he gets to scratch off the red dot….and see if he’s won anything, like a liquor store or motel…I’ve watched one and that was enough…the wedding, not the ‘scratch-off.’ I’d take the Buick anytime.

what a town…how lucky we are to live here. A perfect pastel evening light, streets jammed with shiny SUV’s, all the churches lit up(and a few in the bars already lit up), tuk-tuks snarling like little lawnmovers, the chicken buses growling and snorting…Donde Monica, upper 4th, across from Bangalore Bobs? the scene of another party w/music…and loud/bad music…last night i thought I heard Ron Fortin’s sax playing there, after his early gig at Ocelot…

go Commies!

Elle reporting in from Havana…i gave her a few names/places…i love that place but everytime i go back i get depressed by the negative changes…probably how I’d feel going back to the States these days…*see above…we’re very lucky to live here…damn, that so-called ‘band’ across the street is bad…might have to shoot the drummer later..speaking of shooting, is that ad in the back of La Cuadra for real? i’ve emailed ’em, left voice mail…nada, zip, zilch,bagels.

next thursday at Cashbar…another going away party for Wendy F…….g Wever? this time, she says she’s going to Turkey for two years…yep, I’m goin’..to Cashbar, not Turkey…I can’t talk it worth a damn…why? I dunno..show up and ask her. What’s up with a certain hostel on 1st? or not up, to be more precise? battle fatigue? bottle fatigue? pace yourself, man…pace yourself…how do you think i lived this long? ah…the epiphany of the hot dogs!

as a genuine 60’s/70’s commune/live right kinda guy, we always disdained hot dogs…filled with by-products of an unknown origin,  and enough preservatives to kill a goat and so on..and then i remembered that my grandfather, who lived to be 99…he lived on a diet of baloney, TV dinners and bacon, chased with some decent bourbon. As a relative of the Hatfields, he also got chased outa that part of the country but that’s another story(which makes me a relative also)relatively speaking…where’s the bourbon?

jethro & ezra...kissin' cousins

 pass the hot dogs: i don’t get the little plastic condom-like wrappers but that’s Guate..picture this…our local mime, the short guy in white face and the aviator helmet? seen hunched over a computer at an internet store…tres strange,no? does he ever take off the makeup?

ah, the bummer drummer is at it…how many flare cartridges are left? thank god I’m half deaf in the left ear and that’s the way I’m facing now…hmm, a bonus..’never thought of it that way..