Chanclas

This morning we celebrated Christmas. All the kids were home and our closest extended family came to visit. Cheryl, DJ, and Alice made the long drive up here and made this Christmas that much more special. David and his girlfriend came over as well last night and some of us watched A Christmas Story a very funny movie. -A side note, DJ almost shot my eye out this morning.-

When I was growing up we did not celebrate Christmas, we celebrated "Dia de los Reyes" I think we call it the Feast of the Epiphany here. Anyway, we celebrate this on the January 6. Dia de los Reyes was when the 3 Magi brought their gifts to Christ the child in Bethlehem. We celebrate this day 12 days prior, with, as I recall piñatas being smashed every night (so were many of the parents if my mind serves me correctly). Someday I will go into the whole thing of this celebration but today let it suffice that we celebrated gift giving on this day.

As tradition goes, or as I recall, people put their shoes out and the Magi leave gifts for them. I put the picture on top because, again as I recall, we wore shoes on special occasions (mainly going to school). I remember getting a new pair of shoes every couple of years so to make them last we would wear them to school and take them off as soon as we got home. Besides school I recall wearing my shoes to church on Sundays. Needless to say school and church were my favorite places to be. Most of the time we played barefoot (mainly soccer). You were a lucky kid if you happened to be the youngest in your family as shoes would get passed down. Luckily I only had one sister, unluckily I was the oldest. I had/have 4 brothers and one sister.

So on Dia de los Reyes all shoes were put side by side and we eagerly awaited the Magi's arrival. Most of the time we got one toy. The first and maybe the only day that I remember a gift was a day I got a bag of toy soldiers. There were like 50 in a pack. It would take a while to describe so here's an image I downloaded:

When I awoke that day I recall counting the soldiers to make sure I had the whole set I think I did count 50. I just wanted to make sure my brothers did not end up with some of these toys. I don't recall what anybody else got but these little guys lasted for a long time. They provided hours of entertainment. One thing I do lament was that I asked for new shoes but did not get them that year. Actually, I really don't recall how old I was but I do remember the toys.

So today as my children opened presents I had to thank God for all that I have and especially for anything and everything that I can provide my children with. I was also specially happy that Cheryl, DJ, and Alice were here to celebrate with us. They inspire me and I am glad they are part of my life.

I thought about my mom today. As the year goes on I notice how much I really miss her and how big a part of my life she was. I miss her stupid jokes (not that mine are any better), I miss her cooking, I miss her presence, and I thoroughly miss her love. I love you mom, I think of you every day, my eyes swell with tears that sometimes leak out, and my heart cries out for you. Rest in peace mom, thank you for everything you did for me, thank you for your loving.

P.S.; The title chanclas means shoes, well worn shoes. Well work shoes that are old, comfortable, and have holes here and there.

Stop... in the Name of Love

I went to a Goodwill store today (for the record today's date is 12/20/07). This brought back memories when we didn't have very much. I recall going to the second hand stores and looking for shoes. Shoes that were marked with chalk. Chalk was a way for the store to check for shoes (or maybe other items) that were being snuck out without paying for these. I remember one of my aunts telling me to make sure I rubbed the bottoms of the shoe on the store carpet in order to get the markings off. The shoes that we walked in with were left on the racks, this was before surveillance cameras came into being (obviously). I guess this worked because we had used shoes (which to us were new and were without holes) to wear to school. Anyway, as I looked around the store today it brought back many memories. One memory brought back a flood of other memories.

Memories are something I have kept. I have kept these in my mind and some vivid ones close to my heart. At the goodwill store I spotted a violin that was for sale. This brought back memories of a girl I knew in school. Janet Zaelke was her name I remember her back in Jr. High we were both in the 7th grade. We had nothing in common but we found the time to choose the same reading groups, the same art classes, and she was my English tutor for a while. We would sit outside the classroom during certain periods and she would go over our reading assignments. I don't think she was very pretty at first but she was quite smart. Up to this point she was the smartest person I had known. Up until the 7th grade the smartest people in the world, in my perception, were priest and teachers. I think she was my first love.

I ended up measuring all other relations to my relationship with Janet Zaelke. I remember going to school just for the sake of seeing her. We lived in different neighborhoods on different sides of the railroad tracks. I lived in Watts, which at the time was an almost exclusive black neighborhood, and she lived in South Gate which at the time was a very exclusive white neighborhood. At a time when Spanish was forbidden to speak in school, and which was the only language I spoke, our relationship was looked upon with disgust by many. She was very well off while my family had to put the children to work to make ends meet, she was white I wasn't which, again at the time, these relationships were not looked on with approval. Well to say the least we should not have been together at all.

I looked forward to Jr. High for a couple of years. I would look for Janet as soon as I got off the bus on my way to school. I would look past friends and teachers until I spotted her. Once my eyes felt upon her my heart would fill with happiness, my eyes could see nothing or no-one else, my soul, I believed, would sing. I saw my angel, my friend, my teacher, my beloved. I was so young, so naive, so in love. As noted before, I would judge all other relationships to this one. I knew her for a couple of years and one day she told me her family was moving to Chicago since her dad got a new job. My heart sunk, my eyes watered, my soul seemed to boil over, I was depressed for quite a while. My heart was broken for the first of many times.

Janet introduced me to the American culture. She introduced me to reading for fun, writing, thinking about the unthinkable, using my imagination, and most importantly she introduced me to music. She played the violin, she wrote and read music, she was a gymnast, she showed me how to respect others and be respectful. Her music moved me, my heart sang and my soul danced. She sang and it was oh such a beautiful sound. She sang and sang most importantly she sang for me. When she sang for me I felt my heart swell with joy. I would look into her eyes and I could see her soul, her big, delightful, beautiful soul. Her music filled my heart and soul.

As I grew older I noticed that I admired and fell in love with girls/women that were strong, independent, free thinking, and smart. Intelligence was more of an aphrodisiac for me than what attracted my friends to females. I think that that has followed me up to now. I admire strong, independent, and intelligent females. I think I notice that before I notice physical beauty. I admire independence and free spirited females. I fall in love or wish to keep these kind of people in my life. My closest friends, male or female, are strong, intelligent, and talented people. I also think of people who bring out the best in me, who are there everyday to support me, who are there through good times and bad, and who pick up my spirits when others bring it down.

What a day. As I write this right now I think about Janet, Cheryl, Mariana, Alice, Betty, Katie, Antoinette, and of course my family, all who I see as strong individuals. Thank you for your support, for your patience with me, and for your love.

Poison

Imagine this; you're frolicking down a meadow, let's say somewhere down a Yosemite meadow. The sun is shinning, the birds are singing, and you can see Bambi on the corner of your eye (Bambi reminds me of a song by the Sex Pistols). Anyway, majestic mountains are all around, a beautiful waterfall is in the background, and it drains into a peaceful flowing creek. God's magnificent work is all around you and then, as if someone pulls the needle from a phonograph record, you hear a screech where once there was beautiful music playing in the background and everything stops. You cover your ears, you make a face, and show your disgust. That happened to me yesterday (for the record this was on Tuesday, December 11, 2007 A.D.).

Maybe the picture I painted, before the screech, was a bit too dramatic but when I picked up the phone at work on this particular day I thought of that. The ex called. XXX marks the spot, ruined the movement, ruined the day, ruined the whole fricking day. Lately she never has anything good to say. She's so vindictive, she seems so inconsiderate, she's such a bitch (apologies to all the nice female doggies of the world). It now seems that when she speaks it's like poison coming out of her mouth when we talk.

To think that once her lips felt so wonderful, her mouth was so sweet, her heart was so pure. What happened? She was the center of my life, my beloved, and a caring wonderful mother to my kids. She would listen to me, she would inspire me, she filled my heart with love. What happened? We shared dreams, we loved the same type of music, we shared political beliefs, we shared our faith. What happened? I guess I will never know. Everything seemed so wonderful. She talked about faith and money, she talked about work and money, she talked about success and money. Soon everything turned to money and we fought over the lack of it as well. She began to spend time away from home to make money. Money became the center of her life and I was slowly pushed away from her life. Her love became money and I was pushed away. She spent more and more time away from home to make money. Sadly, oh so sadly, her children came after her work. More time was spent away and less time was devoted to the children. This became such a sad situation that a separation became a relief.

Although I was expecting the worst it came so unexpectedly. For 18 years she was the love of my life. I thought we had something special. It was like a beautiful sunny day and then as if I was in a bright lit room someone turned off the lights and everything went black. What the Fuck? I seemed to walk aimlessly, I walked into walls, it was like I was walking in my sleep. I could not awaken from a nightmare. The nightmare was that she walked out on her innocent loving children. That was the catastrophe of it all but it was also what kept me going. The children still needed a father, they needed a mother. I became both parents to them for the next 8+ years. They kept me going and the darkness began to disappear. I began to see the light, my children were/are my life. They are my inspiration, my children are the center of my life. My once broken heart has healed, my faith which was almost lost has brought me out of darkness and into the sunshine. All is well. As a friend from work says "Life is Good".

Going back to yesterday... now it seems like yesterday was ages ago. I'm able to write my thoughts and my feelings. I'm able to realize how lucky I am. I am able to think about the love and inspiration that's all around me.

Anyway, I feel much better. I do remind the reader(s) that there are always two sides to every story. I do however feel relief in writing, I feel relief in venting, I feel relief.

I wonder if I can put my ex on my "Do Not Call" list.

Mesmerizing

The Olympic Cafe

This Thursday we went to this restaurant, the Olympic Cafe, after a full day of driving and shopping. Had some Kahlua Pig and a couple of maitais. One of the waitresses was from Spokane Washington and had ended up here after visiting an aunt. Another was from Ireland and had been in Kauai a few months. Both pretty plain and sort of sociable young ladies.

The girl from Ireland had the most beautiful green eyes. When she waited our table it felt as if I could see Ireland in her eyes. I could "feel" the Irish mist and could "see" the fields of Ireland. I though to myself; Emerald Isle eyes. She had the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen. I could hear her talk, I could feel her presence, and I could smell her mild perfume. Although I could not hear what she was saying I could feel her Irish essence, I was mesmerized by her eyes. Her big beautiful emerald eyes.

Kauai Life

This is a shot from a pier in Kauai. I was looking to walk around for the day and walked around the town. I began from the backstreets of town since the main street contained the shops and tourist stores. As I walked on the beach, I quickly realized that I was the only person on the beach. Miles and miles of sandy beach as far as I could see in front of me and except for a fisherman on the pier there was nothing behind me.

I read a little and fell asleep on the beach, the black and white clouds kept the sun from touching my skin. I woke up to the far away barking of a dog. I sat up and listened to the waves crashing on some far away rocks. I hear the dog barking on an off and then I heard voices. It sounded like a mom yelling at her kid. She sounded kind of like my mom and as I heard her yelling at the kid. I heard the little boy saying something it sounded like Spanish but it was a native tongue that I do not understand. As I walked, I heard them both yelling and then the yelling stopped. I immediately thought of my mom and my eyes began to swell up with tears. I remember her yelling at me and the other kids. She used to terrify us when we were younger and her punishments were many and often. Her love towards us was immense and would quickly make us forget her punishments. Actually, when my brothers and sister get together we often speak of her spanking and hitting us. Sometimes she would spank all of us and, as we cried, we would look at each other and after a few seconds we would look at each other and begin to laugh which made my mom quite a bit more infuriated.

Anyway, as I kept walking down the streets I looked toward the houses that seemed old and not very well made. There were piles of trash here and there and it just looked like other poverty areas in other parts of the world. Although it seemed like some of the people I encountered were poor I also thought of how rich their culture is. I though of how rich they are to live in paradise, near the water, near the mountains, and enjoying family, friends, and life. I think that's what makes this Island so rich, the love of family. While visiting the local stores I heard the customers talking to each other. It seemed like everyone knew each other. How fabulously rich is that?

The voices disappeared as homes became scarce and as I walked I saw a Japanese cemetery and came across another pier made out of lava rocks. The culture of the Island is diverse and as people from the mainland become permanent dwellers the culture grows. Thus far I have not heard anyone that lives here, and that I've met, say anything bad about the Island, they all take pride in living here. They take pride in their work. They take pride in their native tongue(s). They take pride in being Hawaiians. I think more and more that I could see myself as a citizen of Paradise.

It was a lovely day in paradise. I take this opportunity to thank Cheryl (she is one of the most beautiful people of this world) and I'm blessed to know her. She's non judgemental, very giving, and very loving.

Thank you Cheryl. Thank you for being a friend, thank you for being a mom to my kids, thank you for being you.

Kauai

So I've been enjoying la vida loca in Kauai. Walking and driving around doing this, doing that, doing nothing. Sometimes you think you have to do all these activities when you go on vacation. Sometimes doing nothing but kicking back during vacation is the thing to do.

I'm enjoying watching the locals doing their thing and realize that I could live they way they do, I can live the vida local. There's beauty all over, the mountains, the ocean, the locals. I trully think that, if I could, I would live here.

God's magestic beauty is all around. Waking up to the swaying of palm trees. Going to bed to the roaring sound of waves crashing agains the lava rocks. Watching the sun begin it's decent, looking at the golden solar rays eminating into the water and up to the sky. Reaching up and further up until I can almost see and feel the hand of God reaching down to touch our souls via mother nature.

I wish my whole family was here to enjoy the people, the land, the flora and the fauna, the sea, and the sky, the moon and the sun. The feel of human touch, the feel of my children. Enjoying their laughter enjoying their conversations, and enyoing their hugs and kisses. I can't help but feel thankful for all that I have. I am trully a rich man, my richness comes from enjoying my family and friends. I take this moment to look out of paradise to think about those who have made me a happy person. I take this moment to look into paradise and thank the Lord for what He has given us.

Thanks a lot man, thank you sweet Lord.
Amen

A L V A R E Z