Blogadiction!

My wife, Melany, is soo addicted to blogs that instead of talking to me personally, she leaves me notes on paper. The other morning, after a discussion we had on family issues, she told me she had a note for me. She went to look for it, gave it to me and left the room. After reading it I noticed she even left a space at the end for comments...I wonder if I need to pass it around my family and friends in case they want to add any suggestions or insights to my wife´s post! Maybe she will get creative and start adding pictures to the notes...she could start with some handpainted drawings and develop to the more sophisticated digital world. Who knows! I wouldn´t be surprised if in a few months she learned to include a slideshow with the note!

Are your wives, husbands, partners, friends, as addicted to blogging as mine? Of course, if we are talking about addictions, I have to mention my older brother´s dependency to Coca-Cola...but maybe in another post.

Scary Stories

I was reading on Yahoo about the sequel to REC, a Spanish horror movie that came out last year. It was such a successful movie that even Hollywood made a remake, called Quarantine. Copycats! Anyway, the article also mentioned Saw V (Will the torture ever stop!) and I was thinking about scary movies in general. I am a fan of horror movies. I have seen a lot of them (although I´m not really into gore, I´d rather be scared than disgusted).

Most scary movies are the same. It is a special occasion when I watch a horror movie that surprises me with an intricate or refreshing plot. In general, they are full of stereotypes and boring formulas that have been used to the extreme. There is always the typical female character that gets killed by the creature/monster/killer. It doesn´t matter how long or fast she runs through the forest, getting scratched by the tree branches that pull her hair and clothes, sooner or later she runs into the thing she is running away from. Was she running in circles? Does the monster own a motorcycle, conveniently parked around the corner that allows him to catch up to her? ´Cause there´s no other explanation. If the monster is walking at a speed of 2 miles an hour and the girl runs at a speed of 10 miles, physics say that she should be ahead. No way, she always manages to hit the thing straight on. Maybe a compass will help next time you decide to go to the woods with your friends, especially if you´re the only one without a partner. Experience says you will be the first one to go.

Have you noticed that every person in a scary movie owns a cat (usually black)? And not just any cat, but a vicious animal that hides inside closets and jumps out at you from the top shelf as soon as you open the door looking for the psycho killer (that just escaped from prison) waiting inside your closet making a scratchy sound to get your attention? My favorite is when the cat jumps, claws out, and makes a hissing sound at the same time. What a lovely creature to have around! If you survive the killer, please get rid of that flea carrying animal! By the way, I did have a cat once named Mckee who survived a fall from the fifth floor, but that will be told in another post!

Obama en Canarias

Al principio, cuando la gente aquí en Canarias se enteraba de que ahora vivo en los Estados Unidos, lo primero que me preguntaba era quién pensaba yo que iba a ganar las elecciones en EE.UU. Ahora que de manera democrática, Obama ha sido elegido presidente, tal y como yo venía prediciendo desde hace ya semanas, meses tal vez, la pregunta de mis queridos compatriotas es otra muy diferente. "¿Cuánto tiempo le doy de presidencia?" Que yo sepa siempre han sido cuatro años, pero claro es que corre el rumor entre los que no son americanos, que Obama no va a vivir para contarla. No es que quieran ser pesimistas, es que así lo demuestra la "historia" de USA. Según el conductor del taxi de hace una semana, los yanquis mataron al presidente negro (yo creía que Obama era el primero, pero bueno), Lincoln... A lo mejor, quiso decir, el que luchaba por el anti-esclavismo de los negros...Pues aclárese hombre, porque de presidente negro, a defensor de los negros hay un buen trecho. Y después remata diciendo que a Kennedy fue por lo mismo... porque apoyaba los derechos de las minorías. Bueno, él y la mayoría de los ciudadanos, o no se habría logrado el cambio. No sé, mucho ha pasado y cambiado desde los 60, son casi 50 años de progreso social. Al fin y al cabo, Obama ganó con ventaja, lo que de alguna manera demuestra que su raza no debe ser un problema para los votantes. ¡Quién sabe! El tiempo lo dirá. Además yo no soy político en ninguna manera, este comentario solo es mi deseo de reflejar lo que ocurre por estos lares. Ahora, ¡tengo un amigo madrileño, que vive en Dinamarca, que está metido en la política hasta las cejas! Pero eso se los contaré en otro post.

Every Story Has a Beginning

Andrea, one of Melany´s friends, has a second blog called "I´m Just Sayin´" where she pretty much posts all her insights on life. (It is really funny, you guys should check it out). Part of the credit for the DB-Files goes to her, however, I´ve been thinking about creating a place where I can post my own ideas for the longest time, a place where I can go whenever I need some creative space or even some emotional venting. (Not that I need to do that often-after all, us guys are not supposed to get emotional, EVER, but just in case).

No time is better than the present to start such an endeavor, and since we are staying in the Canary Islands, Spain for another 6 weeks, I think it pertinent to dedicate my first post to my beloved and misunderstood country. Whether you know Spain (maybe you served as a missionary many years ago, or came here as an exchange student-hoping you would get to eat lots of Mexican food-sorry about the disappointment), or you think Spain is in between Mexico and Cuba (is that geographically possible?), you may find the next paragraphs enjoyable.

We all think our country is the best! I LOVE the islands, the people, the food, the weather, the beaches, the lifestyle. Don´t get me wrong, I wouldn´t exchange them for anything (well, except my wife and children who have opened to me the beauties of places such as Oklahoma...sorry about the sarcasm). Anyway, the fact that I AM from the Canary Islands does not mean I don´t notice our idiosyncrasies, our way of doing things that make me laugh out loud, especially after living abroad for such a long time.

Sidewalks in Spain are way too narrow. If you plan to walk 5 miles daily pushing a double stroller do NOT come to Spain, especially because every other street is under construction which requires that you step down and walk alongside the moving cars. And forget about handicap ramps! If dealing with dog poop every so many steps, and mean old ladies that yell at you as they see you coming down hill "straight at them" is your idea of having fun during your vacation, then you are in luck. By the way, don´t even dare take your kids out without holding their hands every time you wait to cross a street. (Now here´s a math problem for you, how do you accomplish that when you push a stroller and walk with three other kids?)

Restaurant napkins in Spain are a JOKE! More than napkins they look like tissue paper, so if you have to wrap a last minute gift while grabbing a bite in Spain, you will save a buck or two. Don´t even try to use them for what they are intended for, to wipe your face or hands. The first one will disappear just as you reach for it. The second and third napkins will run the same fate. Maybe by number four you will accomplish your goal. I recommend that you tear a piece of whatever you´re eating and use it to clean yourself. It's faster and more efficient.

Asking for directions in Spain will make you lose time and not the opposite. For some reason, old people like to emphasize everything they say to make sure you get the correct information, which usually leads to greater confusion. So, if you´re looking for a certain street, just buy yourself one of those handy city maps (don´t actually have to buy one, I believe they are free at any Tourist Office). If you choose to ignore my advice, you will find yourself listening to the longest explanation ever about what streets not to take and what corners not to turn on in order to get to a street that ends up not being the place you were looking for in the first place! People are nice, but don´t be fooled. Just because they sound convincing, doesn´t mean they know what they´re talking about.

Public transportation is GREAT. That´s what I like to tell myself now that I don't have a car. Buses, taxis, trams, boats, they are all available to you for a small price. In addition, they include tobacco smoke, angry old ladies (probably the same ones that yelled at you when you almost ran over them with the stroller), crying babies, and bums with stinky armpits and breath. And all of that is just an added bonus. You never know what your taxi drive will fill you in on, but they all have an opinion of the United States...especially the new president. Oh, the joys of public transportation. By the way, I have the best story about a bus ride I took with my now brother-in-law Robert, but that's another post!