This Week In The Dream Antilles
Greetings from Bahia Soliman, just north of Tulum, Quintana Roo, Mexico. If your Bloguero sent postcards, he would send you one like this:
On the back it would say, in your Bloguero’s miserable chicken scratch, “Having a great time. Weather slightly problematic. No matter.” You could take the postcard and stick it to the door of your refrigerator. A small window into a distant place. Maybe you could feel the heat and humidity and smell the salt on the breeze and hear the clacking of the cocos. Maybe you could feel the warm water of the bay on your face and imagine yourself sitting in clear water up to your neck with the sun on your face. Maybe you could hear the bird calls and the frog choir in the mangrove.
On the zero-to-ten scale of mellowness, what your Bloguero refers to as the “Donovan Mellow Yellow Index,” your Bloguero is hovering at about 7.6. He would be at 8.7 or so if it were not for his friends at Verizon and their shenanigans. Your Bloguero is not telling the tale here, because it is still ongoing. Suffice it to say, that the world record for annoyance while on hold might belong to Verizon. No, it’s not the sound of Kenny G playing in a lavatory somewhere. It’s commercials for handheld devices and is a bumper crop of techno-speak. Like your Bloguero almost cares what kind of processor this thing has and how it will make him into a worldwide badass communications machine. Your Bloguero don’t want to be no machine, gracias. He is trying hard to be a person, the dehumanization of hours on hold with Verizon notwithstanding. A question: is it mandatory that employees of Verizon who answer your Bloguero’s calls have to listen to the advertisements for altead ½ hour per week? It should be. Call the Public Utilities Commission.
A Short Walk With Michel Peissel recounts that explorer’s trek down the coast of Quintana Roo, right through Bahia Soliman, and your Bloguero’s following the same path.
No Warnings explains that although the precursor to what is now called Tropical Storm Arlene ran right over your Bloguero’s house earlier in the week, there was no word of warning from la Autoridad. All is well, nonetheless, but it would be nice not to be the last to know about these events. Not all ignorance is bliss.
A Haiku Pas De Deux marvels at a series of Haiku written in Spanish by Nobel Laureate Octavio Paz and translated into English by Eliot Weinberger. Your Bloguero loves to call to your attention such wonderful work. Aplauso!
A Love Letter is about your Bloguero’s house, that was built in what he calls “Estilo Robinson Crusoe” in the 1990’s. Your Bloguero lives in what has now become a museum of sorts, but he is still fully in love with the house.
The State of the Union recounts your Bloguero’s recent conversation with Manuel Acero, a fictional character, who is making trouble for your Bloguero and apparently trying to seize the means of literary production. The struggle may continues, but your Bloguero is hopeful that a collective agreement will be made. Your Bloguero is not yet wearing the prescribed t-shirt.
Being What They Aren’t worries that distraction has now made boredom virtually extinct. And soon, your Bloguero laments, all of the delicious fruits of boredom may also be gone. The loss of boredome is not a good thing.
This Week In The Dream Antilles is a weekly digest. Sometimes it isn’t actually a digest of essays posted in the past week. Sometimes, like now, it is. Your Bloguero solicits your support. No, not your money. Just leave a comment so that your Bloguero will not feel that he is speaking to himself on the stage of a cavernous, but quite empty concert hall. Your Bloguero does not want to feel like Prof. Irwin Corey. Or, easier, just click the “Encouragement jar” (if there is one).
On the back it would say, in your Bloguero’s miserable chicken scratch, “Having a great time. Weather slightly problematic. No matter.” You could take the postcard and stick it to the door of your refrigerator. A small window into a distant place. Maybe you could feel the heat and humidity and smell the salt on the breeze and hear the clacking of the cocos. Maybe you could feel the warm water of the bay on your face and imagine yourself sitting in clear water up to your neck with the sun on your face. Maybe you could hear the bird calls and the frog choir in the mangrove.
On the zero-to-ten scale of mellowness, what your Bloguero refers to as the “Donovan Mellow Yellow Index,” your Bloguero is hovering at about 7.6. He would be at 8.7 or so if it were not for his friends at Verizon and their shenanigans. Your Bloguero is not telling the tale here, because it is still ongoing. Suffice it to say, that the world record for annoyance while on hold might belong to Verizon. No, it’s not the sound of Kenny G playing in a lavatory somewhere. It’s commercials for handheld devices and is a bumper crop of techno-speak. Like your Bloguero almost cares what kind of processor this thing has and how it will make him into a worldwide badass communications machine. Your Bloguero don’t want to be no machine, gracias. He is trying hard to be a person, the dehumanization of hours on hold with Verizon notwithstanding. A question: is it mandatory that employees of Verizon who answer your Bloguero’s calls have to listen to the advertisements for altead ½ hour per week? It should be. Call the Public Utilities Commission.
A Short Walk With Michel Peissel recounts that explorer’s trek down the coast of Quintana Roo, right through Bahia Soliman, and your Bloguero’s following the same path.
No Warnings explains that although the precursor to what is now called Tropical Storm Arlene ran right over your Bloguero’s house earlier in the week, there was no word of warning from la Autoridad. All is well, nonetheless, but it would be nice not to be the last to know about these events. Not all ignorance is bliss.
A Haiku Pas De Deux marvels at a series of Haiku written in Spanish by Nobel Laureate Octavio Paz and translated into English by Eliot Weinberger. Your Bloguero loves to call to your attention such wonderful work. Aplauso!
A Love Letter is about your Bloguero’s house, that was built in what he calls “Estilo Robinson Crusoe” in the 1990’s. Your Bloguero lives in what has now become a museum of sorts, but he is still fully in love with the house.
The State of the Union recounts your Bloguero’s recent conversation with Manuel Acero, a fictional character, who is making trouble for your Bloguero and apparently trying to seize the means of literary production. The struggle may continues, but your Bloguero is hopeful that a collective agreement will be made. Your Bloguero is not yet wearing the prescribed t-shirt.
Being What They Aren’t worries that distraction has now made boredom virtually extinct. And soon, your Bloguero laments, all of the delicious fruits of boredom may also be gone. The loss of boredome is not a good thing.
This Week In The Dream Antilles is a weekly digest. Sometimes it isn’t actually a digest of essays posted in the past week. Sometimes, like now, it is. Your Bloguero solicits your support. No, not your money. Just leave a comment so that your Bloguero will not feel that he is speaking to himself on the stage of a cavernous, but quite empty concert hall. Your Bloguero does not want to feel like Prof. Irwin Corey. Or, easier, just click the “Encouragement jar” (if there is one).
Etiquetas: digest
posted by david seth michaels at 11:36 a.m.
1 Comments:
It's not so hard to offer encouragement by posting a comment. If you don't speak Spanish, just click "comments" and write in the box that will magically appear on a new page under "deja tu comentario." then click your name or "anonimo" and then click "publica tu comentario." Easy Cheesy. Fear not. Oh. And if at first, etc. etc.
Publicar un comentario
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