Dependiendo de quien ni cuenta se dio!

Me robe esta encuesta de una niña lejana. Ojala y no se enoje.

Al azar 10 álbumes de mi colección:
me da hasta pena admitir esto, pero no tengo "albumes" en mi coleccion. no compro, y nadie me da nada. I've stolen a few, and while more than 10, here's how i want to list them... y chinguese el que se burle de mi:

1.) Ana Gabriel: Mi Mexico (memorias de aquel verano cuando aquella que fue mia todavia me queria)

2.) Supertramp: Breakfast in America ("give a little bit...")

3.) Abba: Gold (en español e ingles, cuenta por 2? no... me los robe de mi mama al mismo tiempo.)

4.) Olga Tañon: Llevame Contigo (todavia lloro cuando oigo la 3) [Tambien la de Bobby Pulido: "llevame, contigo, aunque tenga que sentir dolor... si en mi tumba yo quiero que diga, este hombre se murio de amor..."]

5.) Neil Diamond: The Greatest Hits (1966-1992) (esa niña fue mia hasta el dia en que la vi, en brazos de el... mi traduccion y con disculpas al sonso que la rego y la escribio en el idioma equivocado.)

6.) Johnny Cash: The Man Comes Around (su version de Hurt me gusto)

7.) I also have a few collections of rock en español from the 80's, each with its name, but all about the same... all the crap I should have grown up with, had I been normal.

8.) Andrea Bocelli: Romanza (canta bonito) Y Eros Ramazotti: Tutte Storie (porque me los dio Ricardo cuando todavia estaba enamorado de mi.)

9.) Erasure: Pop! (well, I'm gay... and from the 80's... gimme a break!)

Los discos que me dio vergüenza encontrar buscando la respuesta anterior:
a quien le gusta la bachata? Y por que esta en mi cd player? Que fantasma del mal gusto me invadio mi carro? Y no me obligen a platicarles de la Sonora Dinamita. El ultimo de la Celia Cruz lo acepto, con orgullo tropical.

¿Cuál es la cantidad de música bajada a tu computadora?:
en este momento tengo 10,725 canciones, pero no le digan a nadie.

El último CD que te compraste:
I'm sorry? I don't understand that last word. ;-)

¿Cuál fue la última canción que escuchaste antes de escribir este post?:
Hasta Siempre por Maria Farantouri (yes, it's about che)

Canción que escuchás seguido y que tiene significado para vos:
(casi llorando, ok?) "... en un dia de esos en que suelo pensar, hoy va a ser el dia menos pensado..."

¿A quién le vas a pasar esto (5 personas) y por qué?:
No te lo pedi a vos! No se lo doy a nadie. Que se jodan pa' encontrarlo como hice yo.

Este sueño que no me deja.

Leo noticias internacionales mucho mas a menudo que las locales. Cada dia mas distante al pedacito de tierra (o lodo, esta mañana) que es mi hogar, que me guia en forma tan comoda y predecible al trabajo, y que es el trabajo mismo donde paso mas tiempo que en casa, me doy cuenta que este mundo que nos han prometido se haria mas y mas pequeño es en realidad tan grande como cuando mi abuelo tomaba todo el dia a caballo para visitar a su hermana solo a unas cuantas leguas de distancia. La coneccion que deberiamos sentir con nuestros aliados politicos, con nuestros socios economicos, y con nuestros proximos culturales esta desapareciendo poco a poco. Los americanos (o estadounidenses, para ser mas correcto) volvemos al aislamiento que por poco permite la destruccion de europa--y cuando participamos lo hacemos en maneras casi destructivas y siempre resentidas, sin importar que tan justificables sean. No solo se hacen las cosas porque se puedan hacer, ni se deben hacer solo por tener buenos motivos; a veces es mejor no hacer lo que nos beneficia si va ha perjudicar al projimo.... permitanme un momento para comerme una galleta.

Pues bien, resulta que las noticias hablan ahora mas de la fuerza que sera la union europea. Si, ya se que ya lo son... pero son tan jovenes como union que me alegra (por ellos) ver que bien tal union se puede crear. Era diferente cuando se hizo aqui en norteamerica. Sera diferente cuando se haga en otros lugares. Claro que en europa, ademas de los obvios problemas de justicia y economia, habran miles de problemas pequeños y grandes que tendran que correjir mientras avanzan--lo que lo hace mas dificil todavia. Y sin embargo se mueve. Avanza. Mejora. Y la mayor mejoria viene de su capacidad no simplemente de actuar, sino de saber cuando no actuar. Nosotros lo americanos hemos demostrado nuestra capacidad de empeorar la situacion con las mejores intenciones--una de las peores siendo el haber instalado a saddam hussein en iraq.... otra galletita, por favor.

Llegando al principio del siglo 21, los estados unidos se ven como el unico superpower que todavia queda--y como niños lentos piensan que eso es bueno. Por que es que van la debilidad mental con la fuerza fisica tan a menudo juntos? Al fin, pobre de aquellos que piensen poder enfrentarse independientemente a tal fuerza sin limites eticos o morales. Muy buen paso de los europeos que decidieron unirse, casi anticipando la situacion post-USSR. Espero no sera mucho tiempo antes que otros grupos aparezcan como uniones contra-USA, mas que a favor propio. Eso sera malo--pero asi sera. Lo que hace falta es sesos.

Cuando llegue el dia en que los famosos paises no-alineados decidan hacer algo para prevenir su propia extincion politica, tal vez sea muy tarde. Espero que ciertos ex-aliados de los estados unidos que vieron tales alianzas desaparecer cuando los americanos se alinearon con otros (a veces pero no siempre) en contra de ellos sean los que empiecen el proceso de union.

Lo que espero es que algun dia los paises de latinoamerica consigan la madurez politica para poder considerar este mismo paso. No una union defensiva, en contra del posible ataque de un monstruo herido y muriendo en las ultimas etapas de la necesaria muerte de un imperio politico-economico, y buscando su extension a travez de un imperio socio-cultural; sino una union viril, urgente, capaz de su propio desarrollo en la ausencia de contrincantes--tal vez no en la manera de los europeos, o los americanos antes de ellos, o aun los sovieticos. Flexibles y capaces, espero que algun dia los pueblos que son un pueblo veran su fuerza no en la diversificacion de sus energias y la duplicacion de sus esfuerzos, sino en el casi terco, casi idealista, casi solo soñador intento a ver el mundo con un solo interes que sea comun y multiple, pero unido.

Desde cuando nos han dicho lo del pueblo unido? Y por que solo unir un pueblo? Seremos, al final del dia, los unicos que por nuestra propia terquedad nos quedamos fuera del juego como niños resentidos que protestan y se sientan lloriqueando solos en la esquina? Lo unico que esos niños consiguen es que nadie quiera jugar con ellos. Los problemas--las consecuencias--del aislamiente se dejan ver pronto. Veremos cuando nuestros pequeños paises deciden dejar de jugar a victimas y martires para convertirse en directores de la economia mundial.

Y ahora me voy, porque se me acabaron las galletas y tengo que comprar mas.

Avanti

Hay veces en que el camino nos lleva a lugares que no esperabamos. Hay veces en que agradecemos eso; hay veces en que hasta nos enojamos.

Sin embargo no nos damos por vencidos... batallamos y en la lucha conseguimos o el triunfo o la dignidad de saber que el esfuerzo fue merecido y justo.

I also want to be Jules Verne

This is me!

Well, I'd like to visit the moon
On a rocket ship high in the air
Yes, I'd like to visit the moon
But I don't think I'd like to live there
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I might like it for one afternoon
I don't want to live on the moon...

They interviewed Michael Jordan on NPR this morning. He's a dolphin trainer somewhere on the other coast. He sounds about 20, and very white (what the hell do white people sound like? not like the other Michael Jordan!). I thought that was funny.

The muslims in Iraq are having another holy day. Great Allah, those people have tons of holidays. I'm a little jealous. Did you know that Italy takes all of August off--yes, the entire country goes on vacation. American productivity increases almost guarantee an ever-increasing unemployment rate. Somebody should tell them that Mutually Assured Destruction does NOT equal peace. Additionally, don't they see how pointless it is (from an American perspective) for one Muslim to bomb another Muslim's Mosque? It took Americans a while to figure this out--we don't really bomb one another anymore. We've become much more adept at one-on-one killing.

I heard today that a primary contributing factor in Argentina's latest economic collapse was the privatization (spelling?) of their social security system. Good going! My friend went there and she said that she struck a conversation with her waiter at a local restaurant. The guy has two (count them slowly: 1... 2!) phd's. He's a waiter. Let me repeat this: The guy speaks French, Italian, English and Spanish; he has completed as many years of post-graduate education as my friend has been alive; and he's a waiter. Because they privatized their social security system. Whereas I will not venture an opinion on a non-existing presidential plan to approach the same goal here, I will certainly pray to all deities currently available for better luck and greater wisdom in our attempt.

I got matching revolutionary t-shirts for my son and me. We'll be twin guerrilla fighters on Sunday. And I got my daughter and my step-daughter matching shirts of their own. We'll have our own little sexually segregated army taking over a local movie theatre soon! And in traditional revolutionary fashion, we'll watch our American-made movie while having popcorn. Hey, it's corn... at least that's something of a nod to the ancestors.

My sister had her gall bladder removed. I told her she's less my sister today than yesterday. About a pound or so... she didn't think it was funny, to which I responded by falling back on good ole' Shakespeare: A pound of flesh--no more, no less.

The movie 7 is sick and twisted. I loved it.

err... That's enough today... I need more coffee...

We'll remember it for you WHOLESALE!

I'm just no good at this. I transfered some crap from my other would-be-online-journal; you can see it all below with the date of 15-Feb... the glorious day after vd.

I've run into tons of great blogs lately and I'm feeling rather inadequate to match their level of performance. Nonetheless, I shall try.

Here's to those who are so good at it they made me feel like I could do something with mine.

to OVERACHIEVER on her way

They said in the news it would be a sunny day;
They said to expect such good things-
So wave hello to the sun as you fly by
On the wings of a wish and a sigh.
And accomplish great things on your way-
Mark the best moments with bright silver rings
And make every breath that you breathe a great moment.

They said in the news it would be a lucky day;
They said that today you'd be happy-
So go on and wish to your heart's content.
Be the woman the girl always wanted to be-
But mark your step for today it is snappy
And you don't want to get lost on your way.

Remember the dreams that you dream as you sleep
When the rocks on the road stub your toe and make you weep.
And remember sometimes to sit and wait for the girl to catch up
Because you don't want to be all alone when you wake up
And the girl doesn't rush like you rush when you're going
A mad whirlwind whose aim's just to keep growing-
She can wait- she can wait- she can wait
Watch the sun set for once-it's ok to be late.

LA PROXIMA VEZ

La proxima vez, dejare que me quieran;
gozare; reire; vivire!
Sonreire de una manera coqueta,
viendole de reojo,
pensando y soñando
tan solo de mi.
No sere como fui,
siempre buscando, anhelando,
llamandole de lejos--
Yo, el que siempre respeta,
vivire, gozare, reire,
cuando me quieran la proxima vez.
Siempre soy el que busca
mi mano vacia con su mano llenar,
con mi sonrisa su sonrisa inspirar,
la huella de este amor en su corazon dejar.
Pero, que hacer con tanto amor?
Como enfriarle al alma tanto calor?
Mi manera de ser cambiare:
reire, gozare, vivire,
con toda la fuerza que el cuerpo pueda engendrar.
Mañana dejare a mi corazon descansar,
porque hoy todavia estoy a tu lado;
hoy, mi corazon todavia esta cansado--
porque hoy todavia no puedo dejarte de amar.

Una noche en que fuiste yo.

Fue una noche en que fuiste yo: Tu pelo negro sobre mi almohada blanca, El dulce aroma de tu aliento en mis pulmones, Marcado por el lento ritmo de tu respirar, Tu pecho conteniendo cada latido de mi corazón.  Fue una noche así, como hubo tantas, En que desperté por miedo, Sintiéndote distante, Pero hallé aún tu cuerpo en mi cama, Tu cara envuelta en la luz de luna Que, entrometida en mi sueño, Me robó la calma.  Dolor fantasma, Deseo efímero, Ansia incorpórea, Amor de hombre que me falta a mí. Espejismo y sombra Anhelo, memoria, Dulce melancolía Cual infantil melodía Reducida a infernal tararear.  Vuelve a mí, pero déjame, Estate aquí, aunque lejos, Amor que nunca viví Sino que me vivió a mí. El mejor de mis errores, Mas amargo triunfo. Omnipresente, Inescapable- Y aun lo más único Que hay en mí. Y ya de ese viaje regreso Ciego en el resplandor lunar Buscando con manos vacías El vacío de mi boca llenar. Y aquí estas otra vez, Entrelazado, amarrado, atrapado, Entregado, atraído, abrazado, Por algo sin forma definida. Vente a mí, yo te espero, Quien nunca fue tu norte, Sino brújula y no más.  Penas que siendo penas fueron ajenas, Y alegrías que siendo tuyas hoy serán mías- El cansancio de tantas millas para dormir Y el sueño que siendo largo me roba mi vivir. Mírate, mírame, míranos, Hazte un espejo de la lágrima en mi ojo Y en el frío de la noche olvida el enojo Que te trajo a mí. El sol ya saldrá y con sus rayos El hechizo de amor deshará Pero nada ni nadie podrá Borrar de mi mente que fue Lo que fue una noche En que tu fuiste yo. 

Of cucumber sandwiches and life in the country

quien quiere vender conmigo la paz de un niño durmiendo?

y si fuera ella?

el problema no es que mientas--el problema es que te creo.

en un dia de estos en que suelo pensar "hoy sera el dia menos pensado..."

tu me admiras porque callo y miro al cielo...

dejame si estoy llorando...

hoy quiero saborear mi dolor... no pido compasion ni piedad...

Por eso vete, olvida mi nombre, mi cara, mi casa, y pega la vuelta

chivalry

Hay amores que piensan que el amor es la vida y no saben que tan solo es semilla. Muchos piensan que el abrir una puerta y pagar por la cena es ser caballero; el que sabe sabe que se necesita mas que un caballo para ser caballero.

Yo soy hombre. No necesito mas.

a ricardo (o el poder de la imaginacion)

r: bueno?
a: hola...
r: hola... que hora es? es tarde...
a: ya se... disculpa te moleste... solo llamaba para hablarte un poco...
r: que paso?
a: nada...
r: estas borracho?
a: un poco...
r: no me gusta cuando tomas y manejas...
a: yo se...
r: estas bien? ya llegaste a casa?
a: si... solo queria decirte una cosa.
r: que? hay algun problema? estas bien?
a: estoy bien... pero queria decirte que voy a estar bien.
r: yo se.
a: me haces falta...
r: y tu a mi.
a: pero puedo vivir sin ti.
r: yo se.
a: me haces falta...
r: y tu a mi.
a: y beto?
r: aqui esta... durmiendo...
a: disculpa... no quise molestar...
r: no es molestia.
a: ok... te hablo otro dia...
r: ok... buenas noches.
a: buenas noches.
r: [hangs up]
a: me haces falta....
a: pero ya sabes.
a: buenas noches...
a: [hangs up]

Of cloudless climes and starry skies

I look at her with the eyes of a third-grader at parent-teacher conference, both apprehensive and what she might be told and excited that all the boys in class wish--if only for today--they could be me. She wears her Studio54 jeans properly spray-painted to her body, and her high-heeled shoes; her jet black hair hangs shimmering all the way down to her waist. She is the personification of beauty. Were I older, I would know of lust and desire and understand the subtle power that she weilds like a scimitar.

But now she's 52, wearing her pijama top and his pijama bottoms. Her hair is a thinning mess of ear-short, dyed strands; her hands are covered in the suds of car-wash soap. Her face seems tired, her shoulders hang a bit too low, there's a nostalgic shine in her eye, as I play a new song by a Spanish group that plays the kind of music she remembers dancing to when polyester was the great new promise.

And when she laughs all her many years go away and I see only the young girl again who used to play with me at the park--the one I called Connie, not mom. So much love, so much pleasure in one simple smile. Her age will never reach her, as long as she keeps smiling.

Sexo, Pudor y Lagrimas

Our brains will sometimes make random sensory connections that momentarily transport us to the past in a vivid flash-back. Smells wafting from my grandma's kitchen that come back by the country store at the mall, for example. Or the sounds of a diesel locomotive approaching on a hot summer night.

Now I got a voice mail. Five wasted years and a dead tulip all come back in a single "hello." Odd how the same word that started it all filled with hope, admiration and desire, can turn around and end it all in bitterness and anger.

Now I go for Chinese... or maybe Mexican... or maybe I'll just read my book--because sooner or later you realize it is just a flashback... and it means nothing... full of sound and fury.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

It's hard to think that it's been 5 yrs--but I guess it makes only sense. In the end, you're dead soooo much longer than you're alive. No point in arguing with God. She always wins.

With every day, I get closer to it myself. Jackie reminded me of a quote from the last unicorn: (paraphrased) "I feel myself rotting all around me..." Such is the fate of mortals.

One day, I'll have a console stereo like my dad used to have. I'll restore it myself, oh so carefully, and on Saturdays at 6:00 a.m., I'll play the platters greatest hits... Can you hear it now? Can you see him smiling?

"They said someday you'll find / All who love are blind. / When your heart's on fire, / You must realize..."

Get a little bit closer...

So I was talking to Doug and he's telling me about his boyfriend and how they cuddle and tongue-wrestle and chat and watch t.v. and all that jazz--so I remembered all the times that I did that with R. so long ago that it seems like years but I still remember the smells and the tastes and the sounds and the programs on t.v. And I remembered the one before (also R., but a different R.) and Spandau Ballet and George Michael when he was still straight and she thought he was sexy. And I remember the girl I liked in fourth grade. And all of a sudden the beauty of innocence was stripped away by the ugly reality of maturity.

But all the king's horses and all the king's men...

"Is that cannon fire? Or my heart beating?"

I'm sick and tired of working. Lazy people like me should have been born rich and out of the way of decent, hard-working folk... and then, I play the lottery but don't check the tickets... hope is worth so much more than the little cash I might get. Maybe I should go into public relations.

But I can't keep writing here. I may be lazy, but I'm not irresponsible--got things to do. A true sign of professionalism, isn't it? How some of us do what needs doing despite our natural inclination to avoid it?

I shan't procrastinate anymore. I'll be decisive, quick, commanding, enterprising!
I'll start tomorrow.

lovely, dark and deep

I think I'll skip today. I'll stay in bed and pretend the day after Thursday is Saturday. I think we should all be allowed at least one instance of this power per year. I should be able to call my boss, my ex-wife, my children, my mother, my friends, my school, my mechanic, the grocer, and the bum in front of 7-11 to let them know I'll be skipping today. (Before you ask, yes, the bum has a cel phone too.) "Don't look for me," I'll tell them, "I won't be found." Perhaps I'll find a movie theatre playing my favorite movie I've never seen (Casablanca)... or I may read a book till night is upon me again... or I may be a single drop of rain...
ah!!!
...but i have promises to keep...

Tabaco y Chanel

It was a dream--that much was clear. A litte house right on the sand, facing a beach. A porch walled in but open to the outside, with wide, arched openings for windows. Stucco. Red clay tiles. Tacky, yellow, sticky patio furniture with faded flowers. Next to the door, a chair. Sitting on the floor, leaning on the chair, a man, reading from a book of poems I can hear, but do not understand. His voice is warm, familiar, comforting and loving, but I cannot understand the words it forms. His legs are almost stretched--not quite. I lie perpendicular to him, my head resting on his lap. The warm and salty air mixes with the sweet smell of his skin. The tender music of the sea almost at rest to mark the rhythm of his voice. It is so warm, familiar, comforting and loving. Beyond the stucco arches, a bright blue sky hides behind playful cotton balls. "where aleph, the sacred river ran, through caverns measureless to man, down to a sunless sea..." but i cannot understand the words he says.

silvery dust

I broke a mirror when I was seven. I was terrified the devil would come and take me. Quietly, before anybody noticed and told on me, I picked up the pieces--there weren't many. Once they were in the trash, I took that out to the back (first and only time I did it on my own) but I noticed my hands were covered in that silver stuff that makes a mirror more than just a piece of glass. I washed them. I remembered this because they were playing The Matrix on the superstation the other night... I turned it on just as Neo touched the broken mirror that had migically fixed itself.

I think I'd take the blue pill--I never did like rabbits, anyway. And all the silver I ever wanted seems to be settling around my temples these days. Ah... it's ok... I'll live... And what could be more scary than that?

polaroids on pinewood

All right, this is me, sitting in my office, nice and cold. My children's picture's the only thing on my desk that makes any sense, and still there's always so much more junk every day--junk to do, junk to pass to the next fool, junk to throw away. Well, perhaps I exaggerate; perhaps the rubberduckie Debbie left when she retired thinks this is all just grand. I think it might be, given the right time--and, God, there is so much of that. Time to think of all the things to think about... daydreams and truths... both rarely pure and never simple... Oscar got it right, didn't he? No! Not that one! The green one, not the one with the green carnation.

Ah! How they stare at me from my mother's couch! All smiles, their recrimination for my absense is more painful for being so filled with love and understanding.

I'll call them... I'll call them soon... I'll say hello.

to OVERACHIEVER on her way

They said in the news it would be a sunny day;
They said to expect such good things
So wave hello to the sun as you fly by
On the wings of a wish and a sigh.
And accomplish great things on your way
Mark the best moments with bright silver rings
And make every breath that you breathe a great moment.

They said in the news it would be a lucky day;
They said that today you'd be happy
So go on and wish to your heart's content.
Be the woman the girl always wanted to be
But mark your step for today it is snappy
And you don't want to get lost on your way.

Remember the dreams that you dream as you sleep
When the rocks on the road stub your toe and make you weep.
And remember sometimes to sit and wait for the girl to catch up
Because you don't want to be all alone when you wake up
And the girl doesn't rush like you rush when you're going
A mad whirlwind whose aim's just to keep growing
She can wait- she can wait- she can wait
Watch the sun set for once-it's ok to be late.