There's a volcano...
threatening somwhere in Indonesia. A headline said the increased activity "....meaning an eruption may be imminent, an official said."
I thought the word 'imminent' took 'maybe' out of the equation. Maybe not.
About Mexico:
In Mexico, unless you’re asking directions to a church or the nearest corner store, you’re born dead. The people know their own block. Two or three blocks away is hazy and twenty blocks away is the outback.
Most directions are given in a language reserved for only those in the know. “ Más pa’ca; más pa’ya; arriba, abajo....”. Unless one understands country Spanish one is destined to wander block after block hoping each “ Pa’ca or Pa’ya” means your headed on the right course.
AND:
Mexicans, it is said, wish to please and therefore always
try to respond to any question or request. It matters little if
the information they give is accurate, the point is to reply.
I've always thought that it's not so much that they want to
please as it is that they don't want to admit they don't
have an answer.
Quote of the day:
The word is not the thing! - S.I. Hayakawa
The Serial: Oxygenated Water
Every time Uncle Arlin started up with 'That
reminds me of one time when...' most folks tried to
weasel off but I usually stayed around. I had learned
a lot of interesting stuff from Uncle Arlin over the
years. It was just a matter of sticking it out until
he finished.
"That reminds me of one time when I was a young
man," he began, "I must have been about 16 or 17, no, I
don't think I was 17 yet, well to be honest with you I
don't remember just how old I was, so let's say 16,
okay?
"I went out one night with my buddy Mike, who was
my contemporary, and his older cousin Darrell, who was
from California. Darrell was 21 years old. He was
known to be a real bad hombre and carried around a
lousy reputation. He was married on top of everything
else. Being married and from California kind of made
him a hero to we boys in the neighborhood. Not only
was he getting a regular piece of ass but he was a
tough guy to boot. We admired tough guys in those
days. Darrell was from L.A. and we Phoenix kids always
figured that guys from L.A. were a cut above us.
"Anyway, Darrell had a car and this particular
night the three of us went down to south Phoenix. We
were going to a dance hall called River Side Ballroom.
River Side also had a lousy reputation just like
Darrell. It had been running for years and since I had
been a little kid I had heard wild stories about how
tough guys used to gather up down there. I remember
stories about cowhands, pickers and miners coming in
from as far away as Globe, Miami and Gila Bend for the
weekend. They'd stomp one another in kick fights.
They'd pull knives and clubs on one another. Those ole
boys would go to fighting over women or money or God
knows what all.
"Well, as it happened, we got there fairly early
of an evening and, of course, we'd been drinking a
little. Neither Mike or I was old enough to buy booze
but Darrell was and he'd sprung for a six-pack of
Bulldog Malt Liquor. So, we sauntered in this here
dance hall with a couple of them Bulldogs up under us
and we weren't inside but about fifteen minutes when
things began to hot-up some. Naturally, Mike and I
were standing around the edges of the dance floor
because we really didn't know much about participating
in such goings on. We were just proud to be in a place
like River Side Ballroom with a guy like Darrell. But,
right off the bat, Darrell gets involved in a
confrontation with another man. I never did find out
what it was over but it was enough for us all to wind
up outside in the parking lot.
"It wasn't very well lit out there and it was a
dirt field in those days. This fella Darrell was facing
off had some friends with him and Mike and I were out
there for Darrell. I guess we didn't appear to be much
of a force compared to the other bunch, us being only
sixteen and them all being at least drinking age.
"Darrell, having been a real bad guy all his
life, wasn't afraid one little bit and the argument
soon got to the 'fuck you' stage. After that, there
were a couple of fast moves and a scuffle. To
everyone's surprise, even to the guy Darrell was
against, somebody in his outfit whipped out a pistol
and by God if he didn't take a shot at Darrell!
continued...
I thought the word 'imminent' took 'maybe' out of the equation. Maybe not.
About Mexico:
In Mexico, unless you’re asking directions to a church or the nearest corner store, you’re born dead. The people know their own block. Two or three blocks away is hazy and twenty blocks away is the outback.
Most directions are given in a language reserved for only those in the know. “ Más pa’ca; más pa’ya; arriba, abajo....”. Unless one understands country Spanish one is destined to wander block after block hoping each “ Pa’ca or Pa’ya” means your headed on the right course.
AND:
Mexicans, it is said, wish to please and therefore always
try to respond to any question or request. It matters little if
the information they give is accurate, the point is to reply.
I've always thought that it's not so much that they want to
please as it is that they don't want to admit they don't
have an answer.
Quote of the day:
The word is not the thing! - S.I. Hayakawa
The Serial: Oxygenated Water
Every time Uncle Arlin started up with 'That
reminds me of one time when...' most folks tried to
weasel off but I usually stayed around. I had learned
a lot of interesting stuff from Uncle Arlin over the
years. It was just a matter of sticking it out until
he finished.
"That reminds me of one time when I was a young
man," he began, "I must have been about 16 or 17, no, I
don't think I was 17 yet, well to be honest with you I
don't remember just how old I was, so let's say 16,
okay?
"I went out one night with my buddy Mike, who was
my contemporary, and his older cousin Darrell, who was
from California. Darrell was 21 years old. He was
known to be a real bad hombre and carried around a
lousy reputation. He was married on top of everything
else. Being married and from California kind of made
him a hero to we boys in the neighborhood. Not only
was he getting a regular piece of ass but he was a
tough guy to boot. We admired tough guys in those
days. Darrell was from L.A. and we Phoenix kids always
figured that guys from L.A. were a cut above us.
"Anyway, Darrell had a car and this particular
night the three of us went down to south Phoenix. We
were going to a dance hall called River Side Ballroom.
River Side also had a lousy reputation just like
Darrell. It had been running for years and since I had
been a little kid I had heard wild stories about how
tough guys used to gather up down there. I remember
stories about cowhands, pickers and miners coming in
from as far away as Globe, Miami and Gila Bend for the
weekend. They'd stomp one another in kick fights.
They'd pull knives and clubs on one another. Those ole
boys would go to fighting over women or money or God
knows what all.
"Well, as it happened, we got there fairly early
of an evening and, of course, we'd been drinking a
little. Neither Mike or I was old enough to buy booze
but Darrell was and he'd sprung for a six-pack of
Bulldog Malt Liquor. So, we sauntered in this here
dance hall with a couple of them Bulldogs up under us
and we weren't inside but about fifteen minutes when
things began to hot-up some. Naturally, Mike and I
were standing around the edges of the dance floor
because we really didn't know much about participating
in such goings on. We were just proud to be in a place
like River Side Ballroom with a guy like Darrell. But,
right off the bat, Darrell gets involved in a
confrontation with another man. I never did find out
what it was over but it was enough for us all to wind
up outside in the parking lot.
"It wasn't very well lit out there and it was a
dirt field in those days. This fella Darrell was facing
off had some friends with him and Mike and I were out
there for Darrell. I guess we didn't appear to be much
of a force compared to the other bunch, us being only
sixteen and them all being at least drinking age.
"Darrell, having been a real bad guy all his
life, wasn't afraid one little bit and the argument
soon got to the 'fuck you' stage. After that, there
were a couple of fast moves and a scuffle. To
everyone's surprise, even to the guy Darrell was
against, somebody in his outfit whipped out a pistol
and by God if he didn't take a shot at Darrell!
continued...
posted by bbuckman | 8:13 AM
1 Comments:
That damn Darrell, he's just no good.
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