Fighting a bull

I once fought a bull… a real life male bovine, with horns… in a classic bull ring in Puerto Vallarta Mexico…

There might have been tequila involved… Hell yes… there was tequila… more tequila that might be advised… tequila shots… from crockery shot glasses hung from a lanyard about the neck… my neck, my wife’s neck… other people’s neck…

At the time my profession was selling forklift rentals and service… and the national company, which I represented had a sales contest… I and several of my co-workers won… the prize being a trip to Puerto Vallarta … in Mexico… at a beach side resort hotel…

Included were lots of activities… dinners, tours and such… one of which was a Mexican evening at a bull ring… This was not the traditional “the bull dies” bull fight… this was a gringo show, with donkey races (after chugging beers) and dinner… but we, the guests were offered a chance to fight the bull…

We arrived via a bus… greeted by people hanging the crockery shot glasses on leather lanyards about our necks, filling them with tequila, again, again, again… as we walked down the olive tree shaded lane between two low adobe walls…. To the bull ring…

We consumed the offered tequila… more than might have been advised… Judgment might have been impaired…

I took a chance to steal away, to see the bull… a small bull… less than 200 lbs.. lean… young… not the massive animal of the classic fight… who would be afraid of a baby bull… I decided to accept the opportunity to do combat with a bull… to fight a bull… One other of our number also stepped up to the challenge…

I felt that as one of my companies top salesmen, someone who they were rewarding for their success, success that made the company successful, they would not risk my heath… after all then needed me… that dog wouldn’t hunt… they didn’t care about me apparently…

We ate dinner… the donkey race commenced… the lovely Tina took part… she was ok with the donkeys… but the race also included chugging a beer… not the lovely Tina’s strong suit… she didn’t win... but she did hang on to the donkey’s back…

It was time for the Bull Fight… the other gentleman went first… He held the cape… the bull charged… he stepped aside… the bull passed by… the bull charged again… this time the bull hooked the cape with his horn and pulled it from the matador’s hands…

In a traditional Mexican (or Spanish) bull fight, generally, the bull loses… and as a result he loses his life… The bull does not get to learn from his experience… but this bull had fought the dreaded gringo many times… he had learned the arts of combat in the ring… something that we gingos had not had a chance to do, or learn… We were novices at the mercy of the experienced bull… a bull which chose to show no mercy…

The bull charged my fellow gringo… he tilted his head, turning the horns on one side downward… he hooked the novice gringo “want to be” bull fighter between his legs and tossed him head over heels… the bruise, on the inside of his leg was significant… the bull had won…

Now it was my turn…

I stood in the ring… cape in hand… they release the bull… the bull which had shown no mercy to my fellow gringo…

He charged… I pulled the cape back, I stepped back, the bull passed… Ole!

The bull turned… He looked at me… he snorted the challenge… he charged again… again I pulled the cape back, I stepped back… the bull passed… Ole! So far all was going pretty well…

The bull turned again… again he looked at me… again he snorted the challenge… again he charged… again I tried to pull the cape back but this time his experience showed, and he pulled the cape away from my hands…

Again the bull turned and snorted his challenge… I, without cape or other defense, stood, I against the bull… Things were not looking good…

As a child I had spent much time in the Kern River Valley, in the Southern Sierra… we had a family cabin… a family friend nearby had horses… we helped gentle them… helped break them… the local rodeo grounds were nearby… we attended regularly… the events included “Bull dogging” a cowboy ridding next to a running cow/bull and roping, jumping on, and pulling it down… a cow/bull of a size similar to the bull now charging at me…

Back to Mexico… As the bull charged, twisted, turned his head and prepared to hook my leg a memory of those old rodeos returned… and I grabbed his horns, and gently twisted him over onto his side… on to his back… I grabbed his legs in one hand, and raised the other… I won!

Cheers erupted from the drunken gringo audience…

The solution was not conventional, but it had the advantage of success… the local cowboys were concerned for the heath of their animal… (not for my heath… for the heath of the bull which if successful would have emasculated me… ) Their bull was fine… his pride bruised… but he was fine… Pity the next foolish gringo…

I was pleased with the outcome… as was my wife… I had fought the bull… and won.

The River Rose All Day

Those of us who are weather junkies have been watching the City of Memphis… The Mississippi River has been rising… the Army Corps of Engineers has dynamited one levee flooding farm land, but taking pressure of the levees around Memphis…

As of this morning the river was at 47’ 7”… it is expected to crest tomorrow, May 10^th… at 48’, then slowly drop… Then all that water has to move downstream…towards New Orleans and the Gulf of Mexico.

The National Weather service is predicting that the Mississippi River, at New Orleans will crest at 19.5’ above flood stage on May 23… The Levees are designed to protect the city to 20’…

Tina and I are planning a trip… a trip to New Orleans… arriving on May 18, departing on the 26^th… assuming the river doesn’t rise and flood the streets of Evangeline… In the back of my mind I am hearing a song, by Randy Newman…

Louisiana, 1927

The river rose all day
The river rose all night
Some people got lost in the flood
Some people got away alright
The river have busted through cleared down to Plaquemines
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline…

Our blacksmith is suggesting at take flippers, a mask and snorkel… I would, but the airline luggage rules are a pain…

What ever happens, it should be an interesting trip

Thoughts on music....

Increasingly find myself drawn to music…

U tube is ruining me… It appears “everything” is on line… Damn you Google… (Tina works for Google)

I am addicted…

I am drawn to both the music I remember (I be old) and the new music I now listen to and am drawn to… There is vinyl on the turntable (yes, we still have one)

Technology makes the journey easier and more difficult…

On one side, I am currently stuck on Emmy Lou Harris and Gram Parsons… with side trips to the Band and Counting Crows.. It is a good journey.

On the other, Currently I am following Houston Jones… Munford and Sons… Blame Sally

I think I may be a old geezer … a grey beard… But I continue to find new music (and old) to follow… via the new technology

Tina and I are increasingly drawn into the house concert circuit…. Joe’s Garage, the Acoustic Vortex, Foster City House concerts… The San Gregorio General store, various cafes and coffee houses… Small concerts, small venues… personal spaces… Along with the used record stores… Ameba and Rasputin’s…

It is increasingly about web sites… Facebook and MySpace… music everywhere on line… follow link to link… down load to download to I-tunes… (of course, I still don't have a I-pod)

A week from now we have a Blame Sally concert on Saturday at the Great American Music Hall... then on Sunday we have a concert at Joes... a Walter Strauss CD release party... It will be a good weekend...

It is about the music Damn it,,,,

Mom is dead… part 2… and an earthquake in Japan…. Layers of crap

A few days later,

Tina, aka the wife has flown home, back to work and such…

I remain here, in Florida…

Things here are well, all considered, and getting better day by day.

I shadow dad… to the pigeon club… to the store… where ever…

We shipped pigeons yesterday… to a race… I marked off pigeons as they were put in crates… I needed to participate…

This morning… the race… we wait, we watch… Dad was 46^th… not good but on the first page… on Saturday he was 4^th… he is still first place in one of the average speed categories…

We drop the clock… we shop… a new TV… new sheets…

Since I got here… each night we return home… generally I cook dinner… we went out Sunday… we return… I drink beer… later in the evening I drink Mom’s scotch… she won’t notice… Then too, to bed…

Horror Earthquake, Tsunami, Nuclear meltdown… Will Godzilla climb out of Tokyo Bay next? A personal story in several parts…

For me it was more personal than a giant green monster stomping on buildings…

Mom died.

I had been in Washington DC… sitting in libraries, visiting nieces, nephews, and the kids… I flew home Tuesday night… Tuesday March 8th… Wednesday morning Dad called at 7:00 as we were waking… Mom had died. It was a shock but not a surprise, but it was not expected. I had already had plans to visit a week later… plans changed.

I think I walked around in shock for a while…

Tina took on the problem of finding flights and reservations… I hadn’t been at work for a week… there were things that needed to be checked… I had unpacked the night before, but mostly had filled the hamper with laundry… I checked email…

Tina found flights… for both of us. I drove to work, spent a half an hour… made calls, answered emails, checked in… then drove home… packed… laundry had been done in my absence…

We had a flight to catch… a 11:05 flight… a flight 4 hours after we found out…

You really need to be at the airport an hour ahead… they can refuse luggage 4 minutes out or so… I dropped Tina 45 minutes before our flight, then parked the car, but forgot my carry on’s… then went back, gathered carry on’s… cleared security, and made for the gate…

The night before, I spent 5 or so hours on a plane west bound… now it was 2 hours eastbound to Denver… a wait… then on east…

We found a place to eat in the Denver airport… elk medallions eaten with plastic silverware… and a bottle of wine, and a scotch… I am looking for a crutch.

Back in line… for the flight to Tampa… more hours on an airplane… We are about the last to board… we only booked this morning… In the Southwest system, we are “C”’s

A very nice lady takes pity on us and changes seats with me and we get to sit together…

We arrive a bit after 10:00 pm… in a thunder storm… tossing the plane about… exciting and probably scary for some… but all is well… we land… we deplane… take a breath…

Dad has a friend picking us up… by now he has been up for 48 hours… he is in no condition to drive… John, the friend, drives for a limo service… he finds us, takes care of us… well… I don’t realize how much I needed it…

We arrive at the house about 11:30 (EDT) about 11 hours after we found out… Dad awakes… we sit and talk for a while… we all go to bed, but I suspect none of us sleep well…

The next morning we rise… coffee… Dad and I sit and read the newspaper with coffee… much like other visits… not that much is said… I think we are establishing a normalcy… A place we both are comfortable in… Tina sleeps in…

People stop by, there are telephone calls, discussions of what should be done… who needs to be called…

I break into mom’s computer, find the address list, and look for my uncle’s phone number… I send some emails to family… Dad is ok, but has trouble talking to people… the closer he is to them, the harder the conversation… I call my uncle and break up when telling him… I guess we are a lot alike…

As we talk to people, we mark them off a mental list… its harder than expected and dad in particular is relived when he gets to leave a message, talking to a machine, not a human… humans are still to close and too hard.

We deal with more as time goes by… by late Wednesday, stuff is starting to come under control… By Thursday the obituary is written and sent off, one to friends via email, another to the funeral home… a third to our daughter…

We make dinner… we eat… we take a collective deep breath…

Late in the day there is a remote distraction… An earthquake, followed by a tsunami hits northern Japan… It is bad… we watch the evolving news coverage… we search the web… people elsewhere are suffering more than we are… I think that it makes it easier for us… we are distracted…

We continue with life with the news on in the background. Dad ships pigeons to the race… We make dinner… we go to bed…

We awake to a new day, and increasingly dire coverage of the earthquake… the pigeons come home… Dad does well… 4th place among 1,600 pigeons…

Life continues in the shadow of death…

I am starting to slip into black humor… I write an alternate obituary… “Betty Hees, She got old, she died, get over it… thanks for your thoughts” I only send it to my daughter, Betty’s grand-daughter… she knows and understands me… I read it to dad… he laughs…

Tina and I go looking for lunch and new bedding… (Dad threw the sheets that were on the bed when she died away)… We find lunch in Bayport… a long time old style Florida road house with bar, deck, former whore house out back, motorcycles out front and an alligator in the canal… a big gator… we eat grouper sandwiches and drink beer…

We look for new bedding without success… we will turn to an online retailer…

Home… dinner again (my brother has left us wells stocked with shrimp and scallops…) watching the continuing coverage of the Japanese disaster… Issues with their nuclear reactors are increasingly severe…

Dad goes to bed… he is starting to relax… starting to crash… Tina goes to bed… So far I am not tired… it is probably as much emotion as anything else…

I need to go to bed… good night…

Not a Tourist...

I just spent 10 days in Hawaii…

I didn‘t blog… I generally blog a lot when traveling, but this was different… It was a weird trip in a good way… It wasn’t a vacation… It was a job… a side job… I was there to write a preservation plan for a railroad car… a really special railroad car.

The weirdness came from being in a tourist place, a really nice tourist place, but not as a tourist.

I was working… each morning I rose early, worked on the project, then I packed the computer, and went off to the museum site… Each evening I returned to my hotel on Waikiki, more often than not after dark… Again, I wrote… the report... not the blog...

Waikiki is Hawaii, but it is not reality, it is tourist… overrun with tourists… at night, there are flaming torches everywhere you look… it cannot be mistaken for any other place… tourist hotels, primal torches, tourists… and a beach… Worst, while I was there, the Pro Bowl and the accompanying circus was in town…

The project went well… I was there to create a plan to rebuild a 110 year old wooden railroad car… it was sagging in various places… It was working, moving in all kinds of ways it wasn’t supposed to when they operated it… I was the consultant; there to speak to how to rebuild the car… instead, by the end of the second day, the car was fixed… Instead of talking about rebuilding the car, we were talking about how to improve it, to interpret it (to “talk story”)… We talked about the organization, about other cars held in the collection…

Wooden cars are all about wood held in compression by steel or iron rods in tension… the best use of each material… at a time when wood was cheap, iron expensive… The car is built like a wooden bridge, with trusses… the trusses all adjustable…

I worked with the museum’s volunteers to adjust the tension rods… we pulled a 2” sag out of one corner… a 1” sag out of a platform… we tightened various vertical rods, tightening up the car body… We made a shim to help space a corner post that had rusted… They now know how to care for the car… maintain the car…

The other weird part, was that since I wasn’t a tourist, on some level I was part of the community… Hawaii is a complicated community… Hawaiians, Haoles (derogative term for anglos, meaning “without breath” meaning without the knowledge that makes one a Hawaiian) Chinese, Japanese and Pilipino, (the last three brought as cheap labor) as well as a sizable community of both active duty and retired military… All with their own rules, all co-existing on 7 small islands…

I was working for a member of the royal family… working mostly with former military and Haoles… Somehow it seemed that I belonged and was accepted. Several Hawaiians referred to me a “local”, the highest compliment…

I visited the royal palace, the Io lani Palace, with a member of the royal family… Followed by a visit to the Mission Houses… two house museums, a block or so apart… with very different views of the same events… I visited the Bishop Museum, but not the galleries, the archives… I walked on the beach, but didn’t go swimming… I regret that. I visited Bailey's Antiques and Aloha Shirts and bought a couple of Hawaiian shirts… One a replica of the very expensive vintage shirt Tony Bordain bought when he visited… So maybe I was a tourist… at least occasionally…

It was an intense trip… not a vacation… I want to do it again.

Hawaii

I am in Paradise...

I arrived in Honolulu late Thursday night... found my hotel at Waikiki amid the tiki torches and checked in...

Yesterday I got up early and braved the traffic on the H-1 highway headed north to Ewa and the Hawaiian Railway Society museum... and spent the day with parlor car 64... she is in pretty good shape for 110 years. Surprisingly good shape... She is a pretty car with really nice wood work...

I spent my time underneath poking a pocket knife into wooden beams, checking iron rods and generally getting dirty. Had a beer and dinner with my hosts them made my way back to Waikiki and my hotel... so as of last night I had been in Waikiki for 24 hours and hadn't seen the beach or ocean... This am I got up early, and based upon yesterday's inspection started the preservation report... then I took a walk on the beach... Its now about 9:00 and I will once again head west away from Waikiki to Ewa, and the railroad project...