3am 9-6-09
So, "L" is taking shortcuts through the back yard...
He's real slippery...such that I haven't been able to confront him.
I noticed him standing at the property line, looking into the back, as I was out front taking trash out.
By the time I got in and to the back door, he was already through the yard....he was waiting for front door noises...
Clever.
I don't think he means any harm...except maybe to any material I neglect to lock up....
I surmise that he's trying to avoid the road...he's a wanted man.
(for dope and petty theft)
If caught, he'll be deported.
So I have a cheat-sheet stapled to the back door jamb......
""Te puedo ayudar?","Alto!","No traversar.""Privado propiedad.","Camina alrededor." and "Vamos!"..
I think a tall fence would speak volumes...in any language..
I'm decent at Spanish, in a kitchen...but my grammar sucks...and I'm better suited (as w/ all languages) to reading.
Give me text in Greek, German, Latin....even French...and I can figure it out.
At least the gist.
Spoken, it moves too fast....
Most, I've never heard spoken out loud.
New problems have presented themselves regarding the house...
Sewer. (!!!)
Borrowed a mechanical snake from FIL...switch don't work...gotta rig it somehow...it's Labor Day...so noone's open till Tuesday.
I had intended to be blacksmithing on all these weekdays that everyone’s at school…
First “free time” I’ve had since my oldest was born almost 8 years ago….
Alas, Moontime Don has thrown a sizeable wrench into those plans…
I’m to the point in my dismantle-out-there/build-here regime where I must either dismantle the big stuff…or purchase new material.
Too, I’m having the propane tank moved…so there’s a ditch to be dug…a wild peach tree to be cut…
And more $$$ I don’t have to be spent on the gas-man to get ‘er done.
Roof/walls of the Smithy (integral to the fence) will come from the porch out there…I hope.
Roof , and posts, and long boards…for the new back porch for W/D,etc will hafta be new.
And my Dad is coming…
He’ll cast his critical eye on all aspects of the property….
And, hopefully, approve….
And be open to helping us purchase it.
My Brother is getting all manner of help to get into a “real” house in Kingwood….his down payment would buy this place, outright…
Brother did everything right…finished school, and college…worked diligently in a career track…makes upward of $80K/year.
…And can’t make ends meet.
While, I …the “crazy one”…have been a Chef/Musician/Farmer (and now, Crippled Philosopher)
Never made more than $25K….mostly much lower…
Quit when I got pissed off at stupidity/unnecessary drama…
And, generally, went my own way.
I think it says a lot that we’re both in pretty much the same boat.
This is NOT our Grandad’s America.
Haven’t had time to think about Doom…or social/political issues…
Hollered at the TV, a lot…
But haven’t had it in me to bitch/ hold forth…
Perhaps we’ll have an opportunity this winter…
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Lawdy...
Lawdy,Lawdy….
Turned 40, yesterday…at 18:45 CST.
Awoke at 4 AM…. By 5;30, I’m out back…digging holes for psts..for gates.
I dig “Pi-Gates”, my own invention…two uprights, and a lentil….very Megalithic…
Crossties…
So I’m up at 2, this AM, feeling like I’ve been run over….
Hafta lay around and watch movies, today….
Sucks…not least cause I got all this work to do…
Uncle has been surprisingly civil…and quiet.
I suspect it’s the regular evening meals I’ve been providing.
Better than he’s eaten since Grandma died.
Too, nourishment, and a belly full of lasagna, mitigates the drunkennesss.
Whatever…I’m just glad there hasn’t been any BS from that quarter.
L, however, is back in town…sneaking furtively through my back yard to avoid arrest/deportation…(hence the perceived need to finish the fencing: Gaucho is a particularly nasty variety of barbed wire…lol.)
Still, makes me a mite jumpy..him being around….doing the staring thing.
His brother ,B, is a real piece of work…
Prolly my least favorite part of the barrio.
Fat, mean and hypermasculine….stereo in his (overly loud) dually can be heard for blocks…and he spends most of his time w/ the drug-slinger next door…truck parked out in the road, doors open, conjunto blaring…bass penetrating.
Nervewracking for a dog-eared hillbilly.
Besides that, it’s not that bad being in town….
Proximity to so many folks (compared to the last 16 years) will take some getting used to.
Intellectually, I know that noone is “watching”…but their mere presence ( and the Mexican “staring” thing) makes it feel as tho I’m on stage,,,
(More good reasons for fences…especially the opaque kind…)
No more wanton nakedness….someone will surely call the Law.
Sigh.
Turned 40, yesterday…at 18:45 CST.
Awoke at 4 AM…. By 5;30, I’m out back…digging holes for psts..for gates.
I dig “Pi-Gates”, my own invention…two uprights, and a lentil….very Megalithic…
Crossties…
So I’m up at 2, this AM, feeling like I’ve been run over….
Hafta lay around and watch movies, today….
Sucks…not least cause I got all this work to do…
Uncle has been surprisingly civil…and quiet.
I suspect it’s the regular evening meals I’ve been providing.
Better than he’s eaten since Grandma died.
Too, nourishment, and a belly full of lasagna, mitigates the drunkennesss.
Whatever…I’m just glad there hasn’t been any BS from that quarter.
L, however, is back in town…sneaking furtively through my back yard to avoid arrest/deportation…(hence the perceived need to finish the fencing: Gaucho is a particularly nasty variety of barbed wire…lol.)
Still, makes me a mite jumpy..him being around….doing the staring thing.
His brother ,B, is a real piece of work…
Prolly my least favorite part of the barrio.
Fat, mean and hypermasculine….stereo in his (overly loud) dually can be heard for blocks…and he spends most of his time w/ the drug-slinger next door…truck parked out in the road, doors open, conjunto blaring…bass penetrating.
Nervewracking for a dog-eared hillbilly.
Besides that, it’s not that bad being in town….
Proximity to so many folks (compared to the last 16 years) will take some getting used to.
Intellectually, I know that noone is “watching”…but their mere presence ( and the Mexican “staring” thing) makes it feel as tho I’m on stage,,,
(More good reasons for fences…especially the opaque kind…)
No more wanton nakedness….someone will surely call the Law.
Sigh.
8-26 observations:manana/machismo
8-26-09 Observations:Hippie,into the Barrio
So there was this dude, "L", friend of Uncle...who moved into this house in Febuary...
Same Deal as me..."fix it up."
Did just the opposite...then went to jail...now deported, as far as I know.
Drug addict,etc.
Been cleaning up after him, since i arrived, almost as much as after Uncle.
Old Chevy pick-up, in pieces, in the back yard...I want it gone.
So, I (repeatedly, over 2 months) keep on Mother in Law, the Liason, to contact L's people to get rid of the junker.
Brother, Girlfriend, etc...no luck.
No action....
Manana.
To be clear...I wouldn't know L from Adam.
To me L = "someone I've cleaned up after."
Don't know any of his people, don't really care to.
So MIL says, finally, "get rid of it"...so I call the wrecker who will scrap it for free.
After 2 weeks, the wrecker finally shows up last night at 7pm...
Hooks a chain up to the wreck and has one (what's left of a) wheel on the edge of the truck, when a dude shows up...
" where are you going w/ my truck?!"
I've seen him , and waved, for 2 weeks next door....They told me his name,"B", but never mentioned that he was L's brother...
So wrecker guy goes back ,pissed at the waste of time, and B says, w/ bluster, "I'll move it tomorrow"...
I'm a "walk-by-and-get-it-done" kind of guy...my inheritance from Pop, my Grandad..
The Manana Phenomenon is a source of endless frustration, to me.
I just don't get it.
Manana, coupled with extreme drunkenness and drug use, is why this house has been allowed to fall down around Uncle.
Hence the contrast between the last 5 years, and the last month or so...
Cultural trait....the Anthropologist in me is intrigued...
The Husband/Father/Doer is frustrated and bewildered.
Another cultural thing that intrigues and bothers me is Machismo.
I have spent most of my life in kitchens...hanging with the women.
I'm Bi, and comfortably removed from all the testosterone-poisoning....never been comfortable with the whole Man-thing of Football,violence,"Honor" and "My Dick Is Bigger"...
Among Hispanic men, this dick waving is taken to the extreme...
Inherant Misogyny...and the worst culprits, from my studiously objective standpoint, are the ones who have the least to brag about.(!)
Most of my experience w/ this phenomenon comes from Wife's family holidays...Xmas, etc.
The Women, inside in the kitchen...
The Men, outside...with beer.
Talk is about football, pussy...and put-downs.
I tried, for years, to at least hang...
But I will, it seems, always be the sissy white dude...tolerated, and joked at.
Individually, the men in Wife's family are alright...I can engage them in almost conversations about what I regard as more important/interesting things...
But gathered into a group...impossible.
I suspise that it has something to do with male perceptions of powerlessness…
The Hispanic Culture is, essentially, a Matriarchal one…
(at least as far as I can see, and read..)
The Women carry the purse, control the money, raise the kids, and do all the things, big and small, necessary for the continuance of the species/culture.
The men, on the other hand, either work (hard and diligently), and hand over their $$; or they hang around and drink…
The individuals who hang around and drink, are more Macho…more blustery and rooster-like.
It seems there is an inverse relationship between the amount of gainful work done/versus amount of drinking and the prevalence of the Mach attitude.
Can't wait to get internet....I have lots of questions...lots to learn...
My anthropologist hat shall remain invisible.
So there was this dude, "L", friend of Uncle...who moved into this house in Febuary...
Same Deal as me..."fix it up."
Did just the opposite...then went to jail...now deported, as far as I know.
Drug addict,etc.
Been cleaning up after him, since i arrived, almost as much as after Uncle.
Old Chevy pick-up, in pieces, in the back yard...I want it gone.
So, I (repeatedly, over 2 months) keep on Mother in Law, the Liason, to contact L's people to get rid of the junker.
Brother, Girlfriend, etc...no luck.
No action....
Manana.
To be clear...I wouldn't know L from Adam.
To me L = "someone I've cleaned up after."
Don't know any of his people, don't really care to.
So MIL says, finally, "get rid of it"...so I call the wrecker who will scrap it for free.
After 2 weeks, the wrecker finally shows up last night at 7pm...
Hooks a chain up to the wreck and has one (what's left of a) wheel on the edge of the truck, when a dude shows up...
" where are you going w/ my truck?!"
I've seen him , and waved, for 2 weeks next door....They told me his name,"B", but never mentioned that he was L's brother...
So wrecker guy goes back ,pissed at the waste of time, and B says, w/ bluster, "I'll move it tomorrow"...
I'm a "walk-by-and-get-it-done" kind of guy...my inheritance from Pop, my Grandad..
The Manana Phenomenon is a source of endless frustration, to me.
I just don't get it.
Manana, coupled with extreme drunkenness and drug use, is why this house has been allowed to fall down around Uncle.
Hence the contrast between the last 5 years, and the last month or so...
Cultural trait....the Anthropologist in me is intrigued...
The Husband/Father/Doer is frustrated and bewildered.
Another cultural thing that intrigues and bothers me is Machismo.
I have spent most of my life in kitchens...hanging with the women.
I'm Bi, and comfortably removed from all the testosterone-poisoning....never been comfortable with the whole Man-thing of Football,violence,"Honor" and "My Dick Is Bigger"...
Among Hispanic men, this dick waving is taken to the extreme...
Inherant Misogyny...and the worst culprits, from my studiously objective standpoint, are the ones who have the least to brag about.(!)
Most of my experience w/ this phenomenon comes from Wife's family holidays...Xmas, etc.
The Women, inside in the kitchen...
The Men, outside...with beer.
Talk is about football, pussy...and put-downs.
I tried, for years, to at least hang...
But I will, it seems, always be the sissy white dude...tolerated, and joked at.
Individually, the men in Wife's family are alright...I can engage them in almost conversations about what I regard as more important/interesting things...
But gathered into a group...impossible.
I suspise that it has something to do with male perceptions of powerlessness…
The Hispanic Culture is, essentially, a Matriarchal one…
(at least as far as I can see, and read..)
The Women carry the purse, control the money, raise the kids, and do all the things, big and small, necessary for the continuance of the species/culture.
The men, on the other hand, either work (hard and diligently), and hand over their $$; or they hang around and drink…
The individuals who hang around and drink, are more Macho…more blustery and rooster-like.
It seems there is an inverse relationship between the amount of gainful work done/versus amount of drinking and the prevalence of the Mach attitude.
Can't wait to get internet....I have lots of questions...lots to learn...
My anthropologist hat shall remain invisible.
8-25-09 into the Barrio
8- 25-2009
Have we really been here for a week?
The Barrio is not as bad as I had feared…Folks are ,generally , quiet…it’s the constant traffic, not even on our street, necessarily …any where within a mile, or so…
Damned country-boy dog-ears…
When one lives down a dirt road in the Wilderness for so long, the ears get sensitive.
A car coming down the road, there, is most likely coming to you, or lost…
Here, one has to consciously resist that habit of looking…else ya spend your whole day looking out the window.
Very frustrating.
I’ve got the place mostly livable,tho it still needs considerable work…
I plan on getting a back porch in, for the washer/dryer, and fixing the electrical in the boy’s room, and calling a moratorium on construction for a while.
On the house, itself, at least…
I still require fences, and a chicken house, and a place to blacksmith.
Sometime, ere Winter, I must insulate and repair the kitchen ceiling.
After all that, I’m done…till I can gain greater security…
Ie Buy the damned place.
I’m taking a Pain Day, today…
All this labor has caught up to me, it seems…
I don’t think the MRI helped, either…
The two gigantic magnets I got between, two days ago, hurt just like a cold front…
I could feel them pulling at the screws and plates in my legs.
The images look ominous…
I’m no expert, but I am a Genius…and have a working knowledge of anatomy…
Where the left femur is filled with white (marrow), the right is black.
The acetabulum, trochanter and the whole top part of the femur is obviously deformed…hopelessly marred.
I can’t wait for the report from the actual experts…
I got a lot of dismantling ,and cleanup, yet to do out at the country place…
I just haven’t had the body…or time…or gas money…
And it’s been so fucking HOT! At least 100 degrees, every day, for 66 days…
Hottest Summer on record.
I’m looking out the front glass door at the little park across the street…baking….waves in the air from the heat rising…rusty tin roofs and white clapboard houses with peeling paint…old trucks in backyards…chickens and goats…
Conjunto in the afternoons…and folks driving past, looking…
It’s a Mexican thing, I think…
The staring…
I just wave, to everyone…and they generally wave back.
On the weekends, one can smell Bar BQ…folks cooking goat, ribs,what have ya…
Lotsa music and beer-drinking going on…
Quite lively.
Thankfully, they seem to start early…and, thus, are passed out and quiet by 10…only heard one “domestic incident”…
Drunk Uncle got drunk last Saturday…threw a hissy (about what, I couldn’t determine)till his girlfriend hauled him off to Menard…
He came back Monday, been quite docile…staying in the RV I set up for him.
Seems happy with it…It’s cleaner than this place was, and has everything a Drunk Uncle needs…TV, fridge, AC, and a place to take a leak…
Anyhow, that was the Deal…
And he’s only here for 2 more days, then he’s gone for the Winter.
He seems kinda surprised what a crippled Guero has been able to do to this place (and the RV) in such a short time…
We fed him and let him into the shower yesterday…he was looking around in obvious amazement that it looks like a real house.
His buddies have mostly got the memo that he’s in the RV, I think…although there were two who banged on the door at 11:30 last night…they figgered it out quick enough…never knowing that there was a naked hippie with a 357 mag on the other side of the door, watching them.
I expect that behaviour to stop as soon as he’s gone.
All in all, things are moving right along…so long as Uncle holds his end of the Deal, we’ll be fine.
And I’ve endeavored to coat him with honey, without appearing to…so he ain’t got a thing to bitch about.
Till I can make an offer.
Have we really been here for a week?
The Barrio is not as bad as I had feared…Folks are ,generally , quiet…it’s the constant traffic, not even on our street, necessarily …any where within a mile, or so…
Damned country-boy dog-ears…
When one lives down a dirt road in the Wilderness for so long, the ears get sensitive.
A car coming down the road, there, is most likely coming to you, or lost…
Here, one has to consciously resist that habit of looking…else ya spend your whole day looking out the window.
Very frustrating.
I’ve got the place mostly livable,tho it still needs considerable work…
I plan on getting a back porch in, for the washer/dryer, and fixing the electrical in the boy’s room, and calling a moratorium on construction for a while.
On the house, itself, at least…
I still require fences, and a chicken house, and a place to blacksmith.
Sometime, ere Winter, I must insulate and repair the kitchen ceiling.
After all that, I’m done…till I can gain greater security…
Ie Buy the damned place.
I’m taking a Pain Day, today…
All this labor has caught up to me, it seems…
I don’t think the MRI helped, either…
The two gigantic magnets I got between, two days ago, hurt just like a cold front…
I could feel them pulling at the screws and plates in my legs.
The images look ominous…
I’m no expert, but I am a Genius…and have a working knowledge of anatomy…
Where the left femur is filled with white (marrow), the right is black.
The acetabulum, trochanter and the whole top part of the femur is obviously deformed…hopelessly marred.
I can’t wait for the report from the actual experts…
I got a lot of dismantling ,and cleanup, yet to do out at the country place…
I just haven’t had the body…or time…or gas money…
And it’s been so fucking HOT! At least 100 degrees, every day, for 66 days…
Hottest Summer on record.
I’m looking out the front glass door at the little park across the street…baking….waves in the air from the heat rising…rusty tin roofs and white clapboard houses with peeling paint…old trucks in backyards…chickens and goats…
Conjunto in the afternoons…and folks driving past, looking…
It’s a Mexican thing, I think…
The staring…
I just wave, to everyone…and they generally wave back.
On the weekends, one can smell Bar BQ…folks cooking goat, ribs,what have ya…
Lotsa music and beer-drinking going on…
Quite lively.
Thankfully, they seem to start early…and, thus, are passed out and quiet by 10…only heard one “domestic incident”…
Drunk Uncle got drunk last Saturday…threw a hissy (about what, I couldn’t determine)till his girlfriend hauled him off to Menard…
He came back Monday, been quite docile…staying in the RV I set up for him.
Seems happy with it…It’s cleaner than this place was, and has everything a Drunk Uncle needs…TV, fridge, AC, and a place to take a leak…
Anyhow, that was the Deal…
And he’s only here for 2 more days, then he’s gone for the Winter.
He seems kinda surprised what a crippled Guero has been able to do to this place (and the RV) in such a short time…
We fed him and let him into the shower yesterday…he was looking around in obvious amazement that it looks like a real house.
His buddies have mostly got the memo that he’s in the RV, I think…although there were two who banged on the door at 11:30 last night…they figgered it out quick enough…never knowing that there was a naked hippie with a 357 mag on the other side of the door, watching them.
I expect that behaviour to stop as soon as he’s gone.
All in all, things are moving right along…so long as Uncle holds his end of the Deal, we’ll be fine.
And I’ve endeavored to coat him with honey, without appearing to…so he ain’t got a thing to bitch about.
Till I can make an offer.
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