a newer rant

for the past couple of months or so, everytime that I’ve been enjoying a program on TV, it seems that some news anchor, some crawl below the screen or numerous spots have been devoted to telling the american people about DTV2009. Not much to complain about I guess, but consider that if most people watch tv more than 2 hours a week, chances are that they ALREADY KNOW.

I remember 28 years ago

on a July day I went along wit my parents. my brother and a small contingent of my family to go pick up my grandmother, uncle and aunt from the airport. I remember being really excited because I had never met these legendary figures that everyone was going on about, they would show my little eyes these pictures (this was a few months before they realized i needed glasses so those pictures were blurry blobs to me) These new family members were coming so far to meet us. They had participated in the Mariel Boat Lift   ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mariel_boat_lift ) and were finally released from a processing center in Fort McCoy, Wisconsin. 

I remember being at the airport and staring out onto the tarmac, staring at the giant planes taxiing back and forth in front of my eyes. I remember not paying attention as all the adults started to speak louder, almost yelling, as the new arrivals made their way toward us. I remember waiting my turn to hug and kiss my new family members, I was struck at how much younger my new grandmother seemed compared to the other grandmother I was so accustomed to, she had salt and pepper colored hair while my other grandma had fluffy white hair. I remember my aunt had EXTREMELY long hair and my uncle (her husband) had bushy hair and an unkempt moustache.

We all soon settled into our daily routines, spending sick days with my new abuela, going out to bergenline, trying to teach her english with my brother. New cousins popped up along the way and our family grew.

We would all continue to see each other, during my first few years at high school I would stop at my abuelas apartment and we would sit and have a meal together. 

During our difficult times, times of misscommunication a few things remained constant including, our faith and love of family. 

Even as I write this…. I find it hard to actually come up with little general moments that would define her, she could be difficult at times just like anybody else’s mother, father or grandparent. But she was a very loving person and sometimes the latter wouldn’t always be obvious to me.

One thing that we did have in common… as I wrote on this blog a few months back, I went to see a one man show, about the life and times of Jose Marti. I remember being really proud of my heritage and that a man who came from my parents homeland actually had those thought and visions and could write so beautifully. 

The First thing I did as a was walking to my car was to call my abuela and share all the emotion that was stirring in my heart, she said she was proud of me and she even recited some of Marti’s words. At that point, so many years after puberty and being a man I was reminded of how alike we are. 

This passed summer after a long eight year battle with cancer my abuela decided to come to florida and spend her last days closer to her family, and so she passed on that way, close to her family and just that much more closer to cuba.

People that make mistakes, people that are kind, people that love their family.

I didnt intend to do a mushy rant, but it sure did turn into one

ketchup

it’s been a hell of a half month since i last wrote.

What I’ve learned these past 2 months.

I REALLY hate retail, REALLY, REALLY do. people go into the particular store I work in (p/t) and throw stuff on the floor, they also leave their children unattended at the toy wall so their children can yell, scream and make a general mess of things

Ohio isn’t as Mayonaisey as I thought. Although I find it mostly suburbany/rural it isn’t as bad as I thought it would be

Alexis is an ok travel partner. I thought she’d decapitate me the first day much like that poor unfortunate man on the Canadian bus

i also learned that my brain isn’t as A.D.D addled as I thought it was, l’ve really enjoyed a new found love of books. I used to crack a book and lose myself in a jumble of letters and just mentally fall asleep