tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67951652067978727132024-03-13T10:30:47.451-06:00Eruptions At The Foot Of The VolcanoHOME IS WHERE THE FUEGO VOLCANO ISLeonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.comBlogger1454125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-25611138030579781492023-09-13T22:27:00.012-06:002023-09-15T14:25:24.934-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO, Chapter 36, A Pat On The Back<p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzQyAvQohoOLBJSklVhB7rLq81kNp9ENJ9fbZSsPIKzHopQvAj4d7fP-AbNuwlmAHINQZPG2uDK5dSyhDcwdg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial;"><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;">I PROMISED MYSELF THAT I WOULD TELL THE TRUTH</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;"> (even when truth is a little uncomfortable for the fragile core of it that is left buzzing around my ego) I have spent a lifetime trying to enhance and deflate my ego...depending what I can get away with without screaming the insanity-of-it-all out loud! Thankfully there has rarely been a audience to turn me in to the appropriate professionals who specialize in emotional disorders...dogs don't know how to use fancy telephones for emergency calls. Better I keep to selfsearching which is a AA recovery step that I do very well/often...a everyday job for over four decades. </span></b></span></p><p><span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="color: #ea9999;">COULD THIS BE TRUE TOO?</span><span style="color: #c27ba0;"> I am now almost a month into being a 80 year old, very single, Gay older man who plays with my dogs while gasping and grasping the remainder of my life...</span></span><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: verdana;">at least as I know life but I did die once at </span></span></b><span style="font-size: 24px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">Cedars-Sinai Medical Center during a sloppy little operation that the surgeon messed up and carved away on me forgetting about the deadening of my physical body part....off, off away I went, turned blue, convulsed, dead died and then, later, the swat team of revivers saved my young life...afterall, I was in my thirties and certainly not ready for the BIGGEST of beyonds....clearly there were more hoops to jump through, fish to fry, betrayls to shock me, tragedies to face and heart throbs to attempt to have throb </span><span style="color: #d9d2e9;">back at me.</span><span style="color: #c27ba0;"> Interesting, the surgeon took out the stitches a few days later and blamed me for dying....me, who after the operation had to have TWO heart specialists try and find out if there was anything WRONG with my HEART....really, there was nothing wrong until Dr. WWII slashed away on me </span><span style="color: #ea9999;">como es</span><span style="color: #c27ba0;">. I knew you'd want to know how horrid the experience was for me...no wonder Lucille Ball died at Cedars Sinai soon after me (they couldn't revive her). Time to go back to bed and sleep away some of my </span><span style="color: #93c47d;">memories of being dead </span><span style="color: #c27ba0;">(there are some, I'll tell you another time).</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: medium;">To be continued</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138; font-size: medium;">Leonardo, Leonard, Len, Lenny and sometimes Leo</span></p>Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-14896584229535614852023-05-02T20:15:00.003-06:002023-05-03T08:27:08.436-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Chapter 35, Kindness Received<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRDllbv83Oncr25nsEuFaaTuDAnwaiXHKxP7Dki5JSTU6EspULz1t90CmjVRWn7rg46yQb0Z4CRV0gnDNQ8OngLgNNMIUvTYUHfZ2m_pJGxKysFLBNd9QrwNoZU2jJ226sX3P4X9-SFRpXHZ1r0pAi2Y1Aqw12kZKC472Kte_nIuP5MV-sPdnlUUHr" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1957" data-original-width="1952" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRDllbv83Oncr25nsEuFaaTuDAnwaiXHKxP7Dki5JSTU6EspULz1t90CmjVRWn7rg46yQb0Z4CRV0gnDNQ8OngLgNNMIUvTYUHfZ2m_pJGxKysFLBNd9QrwNoZU2jJ226sX3P4X9-SFRpXHZ1r0pAi2Y1Aqw12kZKC472Kte_nIuP5MV-sPdnlUUHr" width="239" /></a></div><br /><br /><span face="Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: x-large;"><b style="background-color: black;">IN BED, my night mind wanders.</b></span><p></p><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">Natural and kind acts by others in my life, for me or to me, are gentle memories that touch me like quiet bliss tonight. </b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">Sometimes I unintentionally reflect on times and events forgotten. Mostly random reflections but sometimes following a line of my life experience that I may be dwelling on.. </b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">Remembering the happy, the sweet, the sensual, the gainfully rewarding and/or memories of minor successes or breathless encounters of a intimate type. Very kind embraceable experiences with people I did, or didn't, see again.<br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">I reach back in my mind to remember the thousands of kindnesses that came/come, and often keep coming my way.</b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">I don't want to forget any kind gift from a friend or stranger in my lifetime. I hope to remember more, even the little kindnesses. I will not take any new kindness offering lightly. </b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">Kindness is love. I ought be able to remember to give what I have received..</b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">Thank you</b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">Un gran abrazo, Good Night</b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br style="outline: none;" /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">Leonard, Leonardo, Lenny, Len and sometimes Leo</b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><br /></b></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; outline: none;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">to be continued</b></span></div>Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-71407496355090736382023-01-20T13:12:00.009-06:002023-09-15T14:33:16.174-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Newsworthy or not, Chapter 34, Happy New Year 2023<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVsptb4KylDtAUtgXa1n_5OwL2rJiQ9GPNf82hgF4J2FcH-pECFSEHo8VCey8PkmtbCkWj3Wnn0uO0fbxRuU5UNishlNeeQrxlRWTu1B8YK7VNfrlxhMJRa3ox0uUDEAKbTv1QEbXyHVg2ZqYjC6R1sG8Da9TQvCL0QFe1cqlmnEjYEQlCx2xAjbz/s800/322334421_703111338215471_3100596528616865005_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVsptb4KylDtAUtgXa1n_5OwL2rJiQ9GPNf82hgF4J2FcH-pECFSEHo8VCey8PkmtbCkWj3Wnn0uO0fbxRuU5UNishlNeeQrxlRWTu1B8YK7VNfrlxhMJRa3ox0uUDEAKbTv1QEbXyHVg2ZqYjC6R1sG8Da9TQvCL0QFe1cqlmnEjYEQlCx2xAjbz/s320/322334421_703111338215471_3100596528616865005_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffa400; font-size: large;">Greetings my friends. It suddenly occured to me that I have NOT visited YOU and my blog for quite some time...I have lots of local, and personal, news to share....ready or not?</span></p><p><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #ffa400;">I am now 79 (and one half) years old. I still, like many other grandes, am totally surprised at how 79 years passed by so quickly...just when I was getting the hang of being a little quiet, well, BANG I plopped down again in the FRONT ROW of my life. Again I am reminded of my former (heavily visited) SHRINK, Dr. Jean U, who told me - </span><i><span style="color: #ffe599;">You will like reality, it just takes some getting used to</span></i><span style="color: #ffa400;"> - ...the very idea seemed to startle and offend, ME ... but I survived her, her message, and myself and paid attention to the greater specific wisdom of it all. OPEN YOUR EYES, Leonardo!</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffa400; font-size: large;">REALITY! REALLY?</span></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffa400; font-size: large;">Yes, there seems to be no way of dodging it/reality. I no longer drink my way out of and around it since the 13th of December 1978! That is 44 years of edging closer and closer to my seat in front row of life. I may not have missed many POPULAR/SHALLOW features in the smoke filled balcony of life for my first 35 years (I did see/catch a glimpse of quite a few colorful shorts and many THRILLERS) however both sober and not so much sober I was mostly in the dark. NOW, I love reality, mostly, even the hard part seems to be helpful in my color saturated world of accepting and not pretending THINGS are different than they really are. DENIAL is extra multi purpose but it can be painful (reminds me I maybe want to go on a diet) in the long run of life. Best to stay in the right NOW? </span></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffa400; font-size: large;">My reality remains riveted on the life around me in a/this small pueblo in Guatemala. It is the most fascinating and rewarding part of my very fortunate adventerous/longlike trip! The people here are kind, very hard working and are respectful to me,..me, a older/single Gringo. It is a truth of how much love I feel from my fellow artists and friends and some neighbors too...NOTE/REMEMBER how polite/welcoming Guatemalans are to me, a foreigner in their midst. When you meet a CHAPIN in the good old U.S.A.,please be kind to them., reality just takes some getting used to,and los Chapins are a happy and loving group of human beings gifted with lots of brilliant cultural background and lots of natural tenacity.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffa400; font-size: large;">Leonardo at the foot of the volcano</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_VIhz01e3JDMc2czW5ZDc95i3ovAq1ylOyzmsDEXNeLK2yBVuwQxHsfc6-Gx3i8guMKDotzers-eDk6ShEujD8Hg7OVcVtyQGHBXr4aawaLRJUq8f9PNP4W2ETJsGPek9mxHGA_wRruLweeV-6CsiBiHDRFOWaLUgj3QpJ9AkBOfqyZmhxKPE3V9B" style="background-color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="938" data-original-width="1924" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_VIhz01e3JDMc2czW5ZDc95i3ovAq1ylOyzmsDEXNeLK2yBVuwQxHsfc6-Gx3i8guMKDotzers-eDk6ShEujD8Hg7OVcVtyQGHBXr4aawaLRJUq8f9PNP4W2ETJsGPek9mxHGA_wRruLweeV-6CsiBiHDRFOWaLUgj3QpJ9AkBOfqyZmhxKPE3V9B" width="320" /></a></div><span style="background-color: black;"><br />to be continued</span><p></p>Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-22802304693415339892022-08-08T10:11:00.003-06:002022-08-08T10:32:31.899-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO, Silent Chirping, Chapter #33<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLLxa25K3xYRBbxc3gO4--rolVY8P6Nxc2vprDVUAxgYFS-aY9_XIFRaadZvd6X_KJvN9xIdPf9SPjN8ZI19rQ_KEJiVAVVirRFc_-eRUhECWYKUMJgkN11RXYmi_4AMyfSzilZWiA4Otf3E3Iu8xcFpzpYyjvG0U-NiJ8OnTvdjDyUNZBNICZAq64" style="background-color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjLLxa25K3xYRBbxc3gO4--rolVY8P6Nxc2vprDVUAxgYFS-aY9_XIFRaadZvd6X_KJvN9xIdPf9SPjN8ZI19rQ_KEJiVAVVirRFc_-eRUhECWYKUMJgkN11RXYmi_4AMyfSzilZWiA4Otf3E3Iu8xcFpzpYyjvG0U-NiJ8OnTvdjDyUNZBNICZAq64" width="180" /></a></div><span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span><p></p><p><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">EXCUSES, excuses, excuses.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> Just when I thought I would be spared from Covid Virus I got zapped. It was nothing serious but one morning I had a sore throat, runny nose and I thought it best to go to the 24 hour clinic in Antigua. When I arrived the receptionist told me I needed the Covid test (which was set up in a tiny make-shift room in the parking lot). I received the test and was quickly escorted to the patio area to wait for results. Forty-five minutes later the same receptionist announced I tested positive (I was surprised and speechless) and told to go home, drink lots of water and in five days the symtoms would leave and in ten days I would no longer be contagious. O.K., I can do that but it seemed like I should have a medical specialist tell me and not the receptionist....I was grumpy but went home to bed. </span></span></b></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">TRIPLE </span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">OY VEY - My voice was becoming SPEECHLESS too! </span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;">I felt better but my voice sounded like I was about two decades older than my current 78+ years. My throat was unsore but crackling in the breeze so I made an appointment with a highly recommended throat doctor in Guatemala City. He seems to know his stuff and I was thoroughly examined and give prescriptions which I now am into day four....the results seem very helpful so far .....healing in progress as the throat congestion is lifting. (I have to remember not to yell, or howl, at my three dogs when they bark loudly).</span></b></span></p><p><span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">To be con</span></b><b><span style="font-size: large;">tinued</span></b></span></p><p><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">Leonardo</span></b></p><p><br /></p>Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-55627858832364924712022-04-25T12:44:00.002-06:002022-04-25T12:57:34.364-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - STAYING ALIVE - Chapter 32<p><span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: large;"><b>His Royal 18 inch HIGHNESS, Prince Gonzalo the Gallo</b></span></p><p><b style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmsQa3UMROH9MwAgXJ-U-AvD1pVUWkJBU8RZUG5oJkbDchgUid4hi3IAmWsV-X0avLrhtqWA1vJzuSc-l53XvVvmmCHeF1ctHv2HBTjz0fUTbSh6pMCLGX8CrU3m9L95fnmDv0io1yEQqPFbUbLhzCgC2F_W5HKRjKMQBLAI1NI03S5NTgxSFgOT_K" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhmsQa3UMROH9MwAgXJ-U-AvD1pVUWkJBU8RZUG5oJkbDchgUid4hi3IAmWsV-X0avLrhtqWA1vJzuSc-l53XvVvmmCHeF1ctHv2HBTjz0fUTbSh6pMCLGX8CrU3m9L95fnmDv0io1yEQqPFbUbLhzCgC2F_W5HKRjKMQBLAI1NI03S5NTgxSFgOT_K" width="180" /></a></span></b></p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #93c47d;"><br />HERE YOU ARE</span></b>, </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> <span style="color: #ead1dc;">I was thinking of you. I thought it was way too long since we met up here and shared a few minutes together....sharing a few of my random thoughts that keep me interested in my random real-life plots.</span></span><div><span style="color: #ead1dc; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">LIFE AROUND ME</span> <span><span style="color: #fff2cc;">still astounds me. There is magic in the volcanos surrounding me. It's true, I feel it all the time and that is an amazing bonus for a single old Americano fellow who grew up among vibes of beaches and Palm Trees. I feel the love, I feel the energy, the non-stopped-ness of basic living is front and forward for all to see. I think it must be eruption-passion inspired and so many people on the Calle Real are related by family. They are friendly polite and industrious...a happy family with dozens of primos, primas and sobrino/as. A whole village of smiling faces that smile on sturdy human beings who work hard, care for others and take care of elders and their children with pride and poise .... lots of beautiful children that the decendents of Maya and Spanish background and raised with glee. You'd love them. keep in mind everyones kindness to me,</span><b><i><span style="color: #f4cccc;">the extranajero in Guatemala</span></i></b></span></span><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: xx-large;"> <i>when you meet Guatemaltecos on the street where you live!</i></span><span style="font-size: xx-large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDi8DazM9tkWaU__65iZbmRTyG68N-RpKz5D20h6sU4ff5T-hq_zvzSeQFlDsfFbrki5vOWc7n5lgUttaNE9u6y9lBqrWy11AwrB25CXaP-QruoV_-suPgPtvehv969jc589yU1FZJWGEbSQylDxU_FrhqqVQc1YjkdkIfi1OoLGLvzyMY61NRbiya" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiDi8DazM9tkWaU__65iZbmRTyG68N-RpKz5D20h6sU4ff5T-hq_zvzSeQFlDsfFbrki5vOWc7n5lgUttaNE9u6y9lBqrWy11AwrB25CXaP-QruoV_-suPgPtvehv969jc589yU1FZJWGEbSQylDxU_FrhqqVQc1YjkdkIfi1OoLGLvzyMY61NRbiya" width="242" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-large;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">The rainy season is coming. I love the rain and the emerald green hills and valleys around me, Department de Sacatepequez. The Land of the Eternal Spring...it Sprung forth already/already.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">Leonardo Ricardo</span></p><p><span style="color: #01ffff; font-size: large;"><b>to be continued</b></span></p><p><br /></p></div>Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-39593594744282208982021-06-20T23:06:00.021-06:002021-07-30T20:44:20.927-06:00THE OTHER SIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Chapter 31, Right vs. Wrong and other late night illusions/self-inventories!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ogbp4KwNt0k/YNAdjIgtY9I/AAAAAAAASbo/G1qJl5YEMpMiAU6Ql66hq5z2LcCZgbSTQCNcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="531" data-original-width="526" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ogbp4KwNt0k/YNAdjIgtY9I/AAAAAAAASbo/G1qJl5YEMpMiAU6Ql66hq5z2LcCZgbSTQCNcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="238" /></a></div><br /><p><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">I must be nuts. I was in bed and about to drift off to sleep. Sleep until that mid-during-the-night eye-opener when I always wake up for an hour or two. That, like many older imaginative people, is when we like to terrorize ourselves with pending ugly what-if's and random worry. Everything was perfect for the first</span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">, part A, snooze for tonight. Even my beloved dogger Lulu had positioned herself on the top of my plump pillow </span><b><span style="color: #6aa84f;">(behind my </span><span style="color: #f1c232;">plump</span><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> head of course but she always reminds me I am wearing a dog night cap. Lulu makes me smile and I dare not move. I also figure it's all part of </span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">Gods </span><span style="color: #6aa84f;">big plan that would confuse me if I didn't just shut up and enjoy the somewhat odd personal mixed-breed rescue dog warmth of it all). </span></b> </span><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"> </span></p><p><b><span style="color: #e06666; font-size: x-large;">I got up very gently as to not disturb my dog headdress. See, I do have kindness for others, dog or not, anyone or anything (especially when they are showing warmth, any). All of which is left to my 77+ </span><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-size: x-large;">(pending with dread t</span></b><b><span style="color: #f4cccc; font-size: x-large;">he August and Virgo addition to my age)</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #e06666;"> year old accumulated sense of right and wrong in general. Kindness directed toward animals is a much needed seperate catagory for personal character improvement for many. </span><i><span style="color: #d9d2e9;">I still murder spiders.</span></i><span style="color: #e06666;"> There you have it, you see, there is much personal growth to be done before I let those </span><i><span style="color: #a2c4c9;">mil piernas </span></i><span style="color: #e06666;">into my unforgiving/overly defensive, sometimes feardriven,</span></span></b><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #e06666;"> heart.</span></span></b></p><p><b> </b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Sk9V2pFg8I0/YNAd9Ix4oGI/AAAAAAAASbw/T1DNo0ac6MYW0y8LmmYy3CHwboL73B-7ACNcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="526" data-original-width="526" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Sk9V2pFg8I0/YNAd9Ix4oGI/AAAAAAAASbw/T1DNo0ac6MYW0y8LmmYy3CHwboL73B-7ACNcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Fidget and blink</span></i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> as I push back my thinning hair and squint at this computer monitor. Truthfully I am slightly off center in my thinking as I am quite a free-spirited sort of a person. I seem to be gathering some very strict ideas </span></span><span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-size: x-large;">(which of course I dismiss immediately when they apply to me or those I love as I am not a Q-tainted Republican...not even chic to be a Episcopalian Republican anymore. Oy vey, what social decay we are forced to view, I have always been a </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: x-large;">Democrat</span><span style="color: #cfe2f3; font-size: x-large;"> anyway).</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: x-large;">I think it is my English </span><span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: x-large;">(many Scotsmans too)</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: x-large;"> blood which has its moments of non-passion/tenacity in my veins </span><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: x-large;">(after exhausting me my whole life with steamy secrets and occassional breathless realities).</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: x-large;">...really, it's very confusing to be of English descent. </span></p><p><b><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;">Official and</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: x-large;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">unofficial cousins. Many Norteamericanoes, including me, believe the English have a wonderous sort of savvy and chic. However, most often they smash our dreams, are non-nobility and send little cracked crown jewel defects and smudged merit ribbons floating over to us in our National blood stream...representation with a great deal of sometimes unpleasant sensation/outcomes. The truth remains we must </span><span style="color: #e69138;">NOT</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> blame the British for our own snobbish </span><span style="color: red;">ALL-AMERICAN</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> zeal as we sucked/sacked it all out of the pages/film scenes of </span><span style="color: #f4cccc;">Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibilities.</span></b><span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> </span><i><span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span>Reality just takes some getting used to</span><span> ,,,,we still are missing part of our best education through heritage </span><span>(and we make their eyes roll).</span></span></i></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Alas. Just made me think of the older, years ago but bordering on my age now, waitress at the Rose Garden Luncheon Restaurant at Harrods. Such a sweet lady who always addressed me </span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">(and everyone else but I took it personally)</span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;"> as </span><span style="color: #cc0000;">LOVE</span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">. I always went/go there for lunch when in London. They had/have a grand piano and pianist too. Roast Beef and Yorkshire </span><span style="color: #bf9000;">(not quite Simpsons, or my Moms, but just fine). </span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;"> I feel I should like Harrods because years ago I purchased my Colport Blue Wheat </span><span style="color: #e69138;">(now in possession of my dear niece Jennifer)</span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">...many trips to keep charging on my Harrod account </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">(yes I had one)</span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;"> the various serving pieces too. All shipped to Los Angeles where things like that formerly belonged with people like me in the </span><span style="color: #e69138;"><i>Fashion, or Film, Business</i> </span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">held little dinner parties for ten/twelve to show them off in the West part of the city. Same with my </span><span style="color: #e06666;">Baccarat</span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;"> Crystal/Gold Circle pattern that I purchased each trip to Paris </span><span style="color: #bf9000;">(naturally)</span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">. Later, when I lived in </span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Puerto Rico</span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">, my young dentist, </span></b></span><span style="color: #e69138;"><b style="font-family: Raleway, HelveticaNeue, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Inés M. Acarón, Dentista</span></b><b style="font-family: Raleway, HelveticaNeue, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">,</b></span><b style="font-size: xx-large;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c;"> was getting married and I exchanged with her the wines and water gobblets for porcelain crowns </span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">(which remain uncracked to this day and are well fitted inside my ancient mouth and get spruced up annually).</span></b></p><p><span style="color: #45818e; font-size: x-large;">I must go back to bed. I have made it clear for all to see that my mouth is so multi purpose but it really ought stop being so foolish when it lets mean or unflattering </span><span style="color: #b45f06; font-size: x-large;">(to others and myself)</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #45818e;"> words pass through the aging corridor...thank goodness </span><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">lips</span></b><span style="color: #45818e;"> are near-by to soften the blow with a good night kiss. I like that. </span><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">Besos, imagined or not</span><span style="color: #45818e;">, </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">ready or not here I come.</span></i></span></p><p><span style="color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">TO BE CONTINUED</span></p><p><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: x-large;">Leonardo Ricardo</span></p>Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-63072679722329910302021-02-06T17:42:00.010-06:002021-04-02T06:50:56.102-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Chapter 30 - 2020/21, The Years that PLAGUED Greedy Mischiefmakers and Color-challenged Bruisers/Losers!<p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OlNVsD8a5Vc/YB8n7YzLkmI/AAAAAAAASQY/44Che42uFMswYjpnf-sx63ug53Qj0nF7ACNcBGAsYHQ/s800/100_3314.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="794" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OlNVsD8a5Vc/YB8n7YzLkmI/AAAAAAAASQY/44Che42uFMswYjpnf-sx63ug53Qj0nF7ACNcBGAsYHQ/w398-h400/100_3314.JPG" width="398" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;"><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">HARK</span><b>, </b><span style="color: #f1c232;">it's 2021, February! Patience continues! Breathe in and out, the end is near, have no fear</span><span style="color: #e69138;">!</span></span><b><span style="color: #f1c232;"> Let there be good cheer!</span></b></p></span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Where did this on-going and gripping, terrorizing, </span><span style="color: #2b00fe;">health catastrophe </span><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">come from? I will answer and indulge in the blame game.</span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #e06666;">Nasty.</span></b> <b><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">The Year of International Punishment, and 2020 got an extension!</span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">History</span></b> <span style="color: #f6b26b;">(according to Leonardo) </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">There/here we were/are (writing codependently), innocently and quietly, marching along to the off-beat-muffled, yet noisy, thudding drum/dead-beat of a Orange-colored greedy/madperson (who refered to himself by saying others addressed him as</span><span style="color: #ffd966;"> Lord</span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"> and/or </span><span style="color: #f4cccc;">SIR</span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">). Sure, he is/was </span><span style="color: red;">GROSSLY</span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"> unpleasant, </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">poisoness and ugly but must the whole World suffer for such glaring defects of one repulsive, less-than, of a regional man</span></span><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: x-large;">?</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"> I ask you, why us</span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">?</span></span><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #ffa400;">YES rhymes with STRESS. </span></b> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Anyway, </span><span style="color: #fce5cd;">skipping over the science</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">, I blame the whole illness/virus/social collapse on the</span> <b><span style="color: #2b00fe;">LUMPS EMPIRE CAPERMAN</span></b>. <b><span style="color: #e69138;">I also blame his accomplices and the white-haired pal who remained, side-kickingly-steadfastly, and helped lead us into the swamp of grab-whatcha-can while hating others and liking </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">inhuman-rights</span><span style="color: #e69138;">.</span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #d5a6bd;">Period </span><span style="color: #ffa400;"> </span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">No persons of color, or other, need have applied for the Orange Hatters Mad Ride. The Dyed-tainted fleece-em-up man strutted around D.C. town, jumped every bore and political whore, then ran as fast as any two bit </span><span style="color: #d9d2e9;">TRAPPED</span><span style="color: #f6b26b;">/</span><span style="color: #d9d2e9;">ESCAPING</span><span style="color: #f6b26b;"> con man can/could.</span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Already </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">(writing codependently again)</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> we all have a FRESH start and will to live. Line up, get your vaccinations (especially if they are free)</span></b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">JOY!</span> </b></span></p><p><b><span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">Amen</span></b></p><p><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">To be continued. </span></b></p><p><b><i style="font-size: xx-large;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">Meanwhile</span></i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> - </span><span style="font-size: large;">Stay safe, avoid bigots, greedsters, religious zealots, orgies, crowds and grandstanding politicos...they spread lethal disease of various types including mental illness.</span></span></b></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-19179914952794222172020-01-25T09:35:00.002-06:002020-04-13T06:50:14.922-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO: Reality just takes some getting used to (still) - Chapter 29<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img alt="Image may contain: Leonardo Ricardo, smiling, indoor and food" height="300" src="https://scontent.fgua3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/p720x720/82488959_10157903936011240_8342375189614428160_o.jpg?_nc_cat=107&_nc_sid=8024bb&_nc_oc=AQltvXv8IRjhmzHAt_ojpioWXFMRpPzURw7yMgCYbf6_mkwZ8LTAYjmQ20H0D2cOfNE&_nc_ht=scontent.fgua3-2.fna&_nc_tp=6&oh=a78a10086423371d4353e20b9f647ce2&oe=5EBA9995" width="400" /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></b></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Will I adjust? Will I accept realtity? Will I ever be calm in the face of "things" that are both inside my ability to </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">"change"</span><span style="color: #cc0000;"> and/</span></b></span><b style="color: #cc0000;">or accept completely </b><b><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">"things"</span></b><b style="color: #cc0000;"> outside of my power to do anything about?</b></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">My whole life I have been a "privileged" white person. Or, at least I did have privileges because I was/am male and a member of the </span><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">"White"</span><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> race. I am English-American. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> I didn't/don't think much about my "privilege" because almost all of my life I have known I was also a despised </span><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;">"minority" </span><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">by many. No matter the color of my skin. Being loathed and despised for "being Gay" didn't feel like a privilege. It felt more like </span><span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">shame</span><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> as I strived/strive to be a whole, and fully integrated, part of the human race. I make/made</span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> a path to follow which included what I thought, and mostly</span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> think, was/is wholesome, enjoyable and</span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> personally expressive way to live my not-so-underground life. I have always wanted, and have been, </span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">part of everyday society</span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> and not only have I</span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> lived/worked among isolated and privileged groups but also I have lived/worked</span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> in more modest surroundings.</span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> I have lived/worked in several different cultures and I</span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> still live in one that is different than that of my origin. </span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> Many people live/work in cultures </span></b><b><span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">different than their own, </span><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">do you?</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">I drank alcohol, I always liked it. I liked it when I was a child stealing sips of beer as my father did gardening on Saturdays in our back yard. I helped him do the yard work but each time he disappeared around a corner I joined in by enjoying his cold beer. He never knew, nobody did and I still love cold beer but haven't had one since 1978. </span><span style="color: #ffe599;">December 13, 1978.</span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> I moved away from active alcoholism. I couldn't stop drinking but I reached/screamed out for help and my addiction was lifted. I received support from a group of anonymous drinkers like me who wanted to stop drinking. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #674ea7;"></span><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Sobriety</span></b><span style="color: #674ea7;">.</span></span><br />
<b style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></b>
<b style="font-size: x-large;"> Alcoholism is not a skin color and it is not a "privilege" that many people survive. An </b><b style="font-size: x-large;"> alcoholic like me likes to think drinking <span style="color: #ead1dc;">"sets one free"</span> to be the unique person he, or she, </b><b style="font-size: x-large;"> was meant to be. </b><br />
<b style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></b><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #e69138;">It worked inside of the me for years.</span></b><br />
<b style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></b>
<b style="font-size: x-large;"> I thought it worked</b><b style="font-size: x-large;"> even as it dimmed/harmed </b><br />
<b style="font-size: x-large;"> my ability to be the authentic me. <span style="color: #9fc5e8;">I was afraid to be me</span> and the alcohol helped me feel fearless, no more coward in me</b><b style="font-size: x-large;">. Alcohol</b><b style="font-size: x-large;"> gave me a sense of well-being that I always lacked as I stumbled my way through other peoples ideas of morality and who I thought, they thought, I must be.</b><br />
<b style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></b>
<b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #e69138;">It didn't work.</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> I would need to find a self-accepting/natural way to be me and stop beliving the lies about me and people like me. I had believed the fear and demeaning words that some people spew out about me and people like me. There was no avoiding reality if I wanted to have a full life, the life I had received, if I didn't accept my right to be me and pursue <span style="color: #b6d7a8;">happiness and integrity.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Being me does not include</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> having less consideration for you but </span><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>you</b></span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> </span><span style="color: #bf9000;"><b>ought to </b></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #bf9000;"> stop with the blind </span><span style="color: #fff2cc;">injustice/bigotry</span><span style="color: #bf9000;"> and falsehoods</span></b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> and all-out resentments directed todward LGBTI people and others. The age of blind/ignorant hatred/fear</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> of the "</span></span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;"> other" must end. There is no place left to hide as truth emerges and the </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><b>slandering of others dies</b></span></span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;"> along with one-sided </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #e69138;">privileges </span></span><span style="color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;">that must fade and blend into everyones everyday life.</span><br />
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<b><span style="color: blue;">To be continued</span></b><br />
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<b>Leonardo Ricardo</b><br />
<b>Sacatepequez, Guatemala</b><br />
<b>Central America</b><br />
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-70840907442338348102019-05-27T09:17:00.002-06:002020-04-13T06:48:59.440-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Chapter 28: Sleepy morning, all is well<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b><span style="background-color: black; color: orange; font-size: large;">Another good morning from the foot of the Fuego volcano. It's a sunny a peaceful morning in Scatepequez and I am expecting guests for lunch. Today I will make a "cobblike salad" for the three ladies who will be joining us around one o'clock...maybe a nice dessert too, I will have to buy that as my baking skills are NONE! At this time of year almost all the "second" home owners leave to spend time stateside. They mostly have other homes in places like Maine, Oregon and Lake Michigan and want to enjoy there family and friends there...one friend departs for a cozy cabin at a lake in Canada each year...nice. All will return to us about Thanksgiving time.</span></b><br />
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<img alt="Image may contain: 2 people, including Jennifer Fisher, people smiling, people sitting" height="400" src="https://scontent.fgua3-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/61167121_10219386203031816_1141826650598539264_n.jpg?_nc_cat=109&_nc_ht=scontent.fgua3-1.fna&oh=7aa725c427b8ccdb166995626c33be9f&oe=5D8F7D3F" width="265" /></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">Last week my niece, Jennifer Fisher, came for a one week visit. It was far too short a time but we managed to get some travel in and went up to the "Quiche" and visited, Nebaj, San Gaspar Chejul and Acul. I love going up to the highlands of Guatemala. It is so peaceful and lush and friendly up there and we enjoyed two nights at Hacienda San Antonio at Acul...we did lots of shopping inroute at Chichicastenango too as well as buying handwoven fabrics and ceramics at every stop along the way. Our ceramics are all handmade, fired and then painted (a polyurethane finished added for waterproofing)</span></b></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;">I am a little sleepy today. Jennifer left last Thursday morning and we took her to the airport in Guatemala City around four thirty a.m. (had to beat the morning traffic rush). Friday I had a dental appointment, almost my last one in a series, and I was extra sleepy afterward...I slept the week-end away and only awoke to watch YouTube documentaries...I enjoy historical drama (real or not so much). </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">I will write another chapter when I am feeling a little more alert. As usual I am glad to be sharing my life with you, now and before now, from Guatemala with love.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #fff2cc;">Un gran abrazo from my a very restorative nap, my bed, Hotel Chalet, Chichicastenango,</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><img alt="Image may contain: one or more people, people sleeping, bedroom and indoor" height="400" src="https://scontent.fgua3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/60345830_10219369243687843_3084893022362533888_n.jpg?_nc_cat=105&_nc_ht=scontent.fgua3-2.fna&oh=b7676d952137123189f93a9c07e7686a&oe=5D96E02B" width="300" /></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #fff2cc;">Leonardo aka Leonard</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">to be continued:</span></span><br />
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-5569757327365167462018-09-24T12:06:00.005-06:002018-09-24T21:52:44.125-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Chapter 27: Our side of the " Fuego" volcano, is safe and we are thankful and bursting with the joy of life! The traditions continue with gratitude and celebration! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyeNe11lJICv228uPCsp7qkwrdGYbq2FiGab6wZzoP-yYgU0JT--4xqzhhzOG6QMJjgE29YFDWdLdZ_e5WBGg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #ea9999;">Good morning from the foot of the Volcan de Fuego, Sacatepequez, Guatemala. It's a gorgeous morning in Guatemala and the citizens of my little town are preparing for "Michaelmas" or in my town it is the "Patronal" 2018 celebration for </span><i><span style="color: #ffe599;">Saint Michael the Archangel</span></i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: large;"><img alt="'It's MICHAELMAS SAN MIGUEL DUEÃAS, festivities all week including dancing on the MAIN PLAZA in front of the parish church of San Miguel the Archangel RIGHT THIS MINUTE...non-stop Marimba bands, food, refreshments and more! Priase to our PATRON, San Miguel the Archangel! Es MICHAELMAS SAN MIGUEL DUEÃAS, festividades toda la semana incluyendo baile en la PLAZA PRINCIPAL frente a la iglesia parroquial de San Miguel el Arcángel ESTE MINUTO ... ¡bandas de Marimba sin parar, comida, refrescos y mucho más! Priase a nuestro PATRON, San Miguel el Arcángel!'" height="400" src="https://scontent.fgua3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-0/p480x480/21768078_10155659748311240_3071097442956584940_n.jpg?_nc_cat=107&oh=0d413b2a1d9ae55fe4d7047ee326f9ee&oe=5C5B7736" width="400" /></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">The many events/traditions in the pueblo where I live for over a decade are most often spiritual, festive, all-inclusive and very happy (except for the Good Friday procession when everyone is robed in black and band plays funeral dirges behind a crucified </span><i><span style="color: #d9d2e9;">Jesus</span></i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> ) .</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ffe599; font-size: x-large;">The celebration of San Miguel the Archangel will go on all of this week. There are BIG WEEKEND PLANS: rodeos (2+), parades, our Queen crowned, fireworks (daily), marimba groups playing and dancers dancing in the parque/plaza central (in front of the parish church and the municipal palace). Daily Mass. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: x-large;">There are vendors and games and every street is loaded with families and friends gathering, chatting, singing and laughing...it's a grand time of the year as San Miguel the Archangel travels from home to home each night for </span><span style="color: #e69138; font-size: x-large;">"entradas"</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: x-large;">. These "entradas" are nightly parties, hosted in private homes, with tamales and a fruit punch served to the guests. There is a canopy that reaches on to the street for all well-wishers to feel welcome even with overflow crowds. The hosts and guests capture the REVERENT and FUN intention of each citizen to honor and admire the medium size carved image of our personal "patron" . The statue of our patron saint will eventually make way, in procession, to a special place at the high altar before September 29th, his very special Saints Day.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ffe599; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #ffe599;">We invite you visit our studio/sala for our latest "art tour". Our team of artistas, Leonardo, Henry and Francisco welcome you to enjoy the video above as we add to the celebration. </span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ffe599; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: cyan;">Please join our friend </span><span style="color: lime;">Estela Vazquez</span><span style="color: #ffe599;"> </span><span style="color: cyan;">on one her regularly scheduled Artists' Studios tour and meet us: </span></i></span></span><br />
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<a aria-describedby="u_6u_1" aria-owns="" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/event.php?id=258818264976261&extragetparams=%7B%22source%22%3A3%2C%22source_newsfeed_story_type%22%3A%22regular%22%2C%22action_history%22%3A%22%5B%7B%5C%22surface%5C%22%3A%5C%22newsfeed%5C%22%2C%5C%22mechanism%5C%22%3A%5C%22feed_story%5C%22%2C%5C%22extra_data%5C%22%3A%5B%5D%7D%5D%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/events/258818264976261/?acontext=%7B%22ref%22%3A%223%22%2C%22ref_newsfeed_story_type%22%3A%22regular%22%2C%22action_history%22%3A%22%5B%7B%5C%22surface%5C%22%3A%5C%22newsfeed%5C%22%2C%5C%22mechanism%5C%22%3A%5C%22feed_story%5C%22%2C%5C%22extra_data%5C%22%3A%5B%5D%7D%5D%22%7D&__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARBQU9vreSmiYAKH3pHS7mW8MAU6IdT_RSJImiMChcsoWrUeUgqZXe_53RyMk5lE4XzFW7mXlFqHL_oenxchRoXDYzkl7IXX3Uq8Qp4Sysbf69L-KQWsKy61sVb5s9Tq9pUXiU6ICB13_D7YUhMDTkgNBzGL6I2pcItodpf2KAvmCBsb3E9M9w&__tn__=HH-R" id="js_zl" style="background-color: black; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; text-decoration-line: none; transition: color 0.1s ease-in-out 0s;"><span style="color: orange;">Artists´ Studios Tour</span></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: orange;">Antigua Guatemala</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: orange;"><img alt="" aria-label="Art Tours Antigua Guatemala" class="_s0 _4ooo _oqb _4b0x _54rv img" data-hover="tooltip" data-tooltip-content="Art Tours Antigua Guatemala" role="img" src="https://scontent.fgua3-2.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-1/p24x24/20915331_476658736051809_8127870828093305804_n.jpg?_nc_cat=110&oh=54062b6fedeb58a90d783c82559a2260&oe=5C2DF110" style="border-radius: 50%; border: 2px solid rgb(239, 241, 243); display: block; height: 16px; margin-left: 0px; overflow: hidden; width: 16px;" /></span></span></div>
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You like <a aria-describedby="u_6w_1" aria-owns="js_121" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=465412190509797" href="https://www.facebook.com/arttoursantiguaguatemala/?__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARBQU9vreSmiYAKH3pHS7mW8MAU6IdT_RSJImiMChcsoWrUeUgqZXe_53RyMk5lE4XzFW7mXlFqHL_oenxchRoXDYzkl7IXX3Uq8Qp4Sysbf69L-KQWsKy61sVb5s9Tq9pUXiU6ICB13_D7YUhMDTkgNBzGL6I2pcItodpf2KAvmCBsb3E9M9w&__tn__=HH-R" id="js_120" style="cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; position: relative; z-index: 1;">Art Tours Antigua Guatemala</a></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: cyan;">Horray and Ole'</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: magenta;">St. Michael the Archangel, our hero</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: magenta;">San Miguel Dueñas, Sacatepequez</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: magenta;">Guatemala</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: magenta;">Central America</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Find me on facebook too:</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Leonardo Ricardo</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">(Leonard Clark Beardsley)</span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Guatemala</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: red;">Video by Henry Leonardo Minas Veliz</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: #f1c232;">to be continued</span></b></span></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-29859601129414382102018-07-14T23:28:00.000-06:002018-09-24T20:45:37.019-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Chapter 26: My intentions remain "good" - vamos a ver!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c-SHU7ss2Gs/W0rc03e6VdI/AAAAAAAARyI/Fx75cOUMDyAsvzjvhIJJb9-uOL5v4S1JgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_0083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="712" data-original-width="800" height="284" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c-SHU7ss2Gs/W0rc03e6VdI/AAAAAAAARyI/Fx75cOUMDyAsvzjvhIJJb9-uOL5v4S1JgCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_0083.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Good evening. It's about ten thirty at night at the foot of the Volcan de Fuego, Sacatepequez, Guatemala. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd; font-size: large;">It's Saturday night and I can hear a few people out on the street celebrating.</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;"> Young voices laughing and talking and screaming friendly shouts at one another. I am in my room. I just watched several YouTube choices. Not bad, not sad, and one was even romantic with a happy ending. Puts me in the mood...a good mood. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Happy endings. I hope they are true for me and for you too and also for the young people celebrating Saturday night on the street (there are two Cantinas in my neighborhood) where I live. I think I grew up with Happy Ending movies and real life good intentions at my house. I just now was reminded of my parents and the intention on their part for everything to be happy, healthy, warm/well-appointed as they indulged in All-American dreaming in their/my home. Somehow we lived in a bubble of </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">"good intentions"</span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">. I may have mentioned before, I love "good intentions", even if they turn out to be a little different than I thought/meant them to be. I can learn a lot from my intentions (especially the ones that I think are especially honorable...and, I often do) after I have executed them. Gotta keep a close eye on reality and personal responsibility in the aftermath of my intentions.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">Here I find myself growing older (more older) in a very small town in Guatemala. How could this be that I have made </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3; font-size: large;">Guatemala</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-size: large;"> my home? There are only a couple of other "Norteamericanos" living in this village and I rarely see them although I consider them friends. The rest of my connections with "Americanos" are with wealthier folks (mostly) who have lovely second homes in Antigua. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">Antigua, Guatemala</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-size: large;"> is about a half hour from here by car. Antigua is a treasure of a historic place with dozens of Spanish Colonial ruins to explore and enjoy. Antigua is a rather fabulous place with good restaurants and fine hotels...it even becomes a "wonder" in our world during Holy Week each year. I like visiting my friends and I enjoy having them visit here. Often I have casual lunches or larger parties in my sala/studio/home.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">I like living in San Miguel Dueñas. I have lived here over a decade although Orlando, Florida is my actual residence. I know something that you should know. The Guatemalan people are extremely kind and well mannered. Even after terrible incidents at the U.S. border with some deaths and child seperation from their parents and the vicious treatment by ICE officials...still, always/siempre, </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ead1dc; font-size: large;">Guatemalans are friendly and respectful</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;"> to me. Good character abounds all around me. I feel sickened by Donald Trump and his bigotry. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;">Entonces, here I am. Another weekend alone with my three dogs. The Dog Ladies; </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd; font-size: large;">Honey, Dulce, Lu Lu</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;">, and, yo, Leonardo. We keep a keen eye on one another even as we nap, eat, run up and down the stairs to the kitchen and garden and dream those somewhat fitful dreams that dogs dream so well. I am having them too as I get older. Sometimes I wake up in the night and I remember</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;"> *things*</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;"> that I wish I had done better (or not at all)..and then I think of how fortunate I really am. I have been loved, I have been brave, I have been sad, I have followed my creative path...</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">a bit daunting sometimes to do.</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;"> I have been rewarded with loving friends (and challenged by a few mean/opportunist people </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3; font-size: large;">and a couple of thieves too)</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;">. I have learned to avoid *difficult* people and/or not keep trying to make them healthier...or, even make them see my point of view...whew! They have their own lessons to learn regarding "intentions", </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">ready or not? </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">I learned something recently that I did not know before now: I love a very large group of people, both now and before now...</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">I love them better now.</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-size: large;"> It doesn't seem to matter as to when I loved them...love is rewarding to me even when the "beloved" are dead. It also surprises me that I feel love so deeply...is this what age brings? </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">More feelings of love? </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">Love reveals itself even in my "flores and fuego" Maya inspired art work?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;">As I paint paintings in the art studio each day I share lots of memories in my mind (and sometimes with my associates) that entertain me and allow me to be grateful for life and all of you (and some of </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;">the thems</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;"> too). </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3; font-size: large;">Soon I will be 75 years old</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;">..it's quite an adventure and my intentions remain good I believe...we will see how they work out. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9d2e9; font-size: large;">Gracias a Dios and gracias for you in my life,</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;">Leonardo Ricardo aka Leonard Richard</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;">Sacatepequez, Guatemala</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;">Central America</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: cyan; font-size: large;">to be continued</span></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-40942905109277424642018-02-22T08:53:00.001-06:002018-02-23T06:54:51.458-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - CHAPTER 25: My innermost sorting machine, change/can-not-change, begins to operate at dawn shortly after the dog kiss wakes me up.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">"Lu Lu" Gonzalez</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #e06666;">I wake up early in the morning, sunrise, for many years now. I hate getting out of my warm cozy bed. I have a new dog, </span><span style="color: #f4cccc;">Lu Lu</span><span style="color: #e06666;">, who licks my face about five thirty a.m. I prefer to think a dog kiss is "glad to see you this morning kiss" instead of the "lets eat" kiss. </span></b></span><span style="color: #e06666;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: lime; font-size: large;">Reality just takes some getting used to.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd;">One of the cool things about DENIAL: </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3;">Denial is multi-purpose.</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd;"> If one is good at denial, and I am, it can be used in almost every situation. Customizing my life to suit my preferences in thinking/believing is a little risky however. Sometimes the annoying truth still nags in the back of my mind and will not allow me to linger in the delights of a more preferred reality. On the other hand, I am quite good at facing the stark reality and its </span></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd;">"star</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd;">tling"</span></b></span><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd;"> </span></b><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd;">discoveries by accepting the hard/cold facts. I have learned "clarity" by living with </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">"situations" </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">where I am powerless to act/fix them. I can not always offer up solutions. Imagine! I don't even want to try very hard when "surrender" is the wisest choice.</span><i><span style="color: #93c47d;"> I know real from faux</span></i><span style="color: #fce5cd;"> (mostly). Life keeps presenting new dilemmas and challenges and I keep wanting to retire from thinking/doing anything other than to keep a narrow focus on REAL things I can do something about. Some extra unpleasant things "I can change" but many I can not change...that's the hard part of becoming more </span><span style="color: orange;">"rightsized"</span><span style="color: #fce5cd;">. </span></span></b></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">"Dulce ska Ms.White" and "Lu Lu"</span></td></tr>
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: lime; font-size: large;">My innermost sorting machine, change/can-not-change, begins to operate at dawn shortly after the dog kiss wakes me up. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;">Outside my bedroom window, on a outside inner-patio-garden-corridor, I grow plants. Beautiful/healthy plants of many varieties. I am not a gardener but I have been helped over the years by talented people with green thumbs/talent. The view from my bed is that of a huge number of potted plants on several levels surrounding the large Virgin of Guadalupe statue I purchased from a door-to-door salesman over ten years ago. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3; font-size: large;">Only in Latin America can one buy a Virgin of Guadalupe statue from someone who comes to your front door selling them. </span><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">How could I not be compelled to buy one? I try and keep a long burning candle glowing all the time in front my my statue. It's a way of remembering others (and myself) who are struggling sometimes when facing truth. That inability to "change" the things I/we can often requires outside intervention (and trusted confidants/friends)....</span><i><span style="color: #93c47d;">I abandon myself to the light of each new day as I petition the </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Virgin of Guadalupe</span><span style="color: #93c47d;"> and the powerful forces of Maya inspired spirituality...I am surrounded by powers greater than myself</span></i><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">.</span></span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3;">Leonardo Ricardo</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9d2e9;">Leonard Clark Beardsley</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9d2e9;">Sacatepequez, Guatemala </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc;">to be continued</span><br />
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-57813900216346942902017-10-29T21:34:00.000-06:002018-02-22T19:20:46.200-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part 24: "A Gift For and From the Heart" <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(photo, Francisco Pereira)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(photo, Henry Leonardo Minas Veliz)<br />
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<b style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: x-large; text-align: left;"><br />I returned from a two week visit to see my dear, long time friend, Kelsie Reed. I met Kelsie over two decades ago in Antigua, Guatemala. She was married during that time to a terrific, well liked, all-around fun guy, and they were a popular pair of "Norteamericnos" new in town and country. Hospitable, friendly and fun! These past two weeks we chatted much about Guatemala..and our individual thoughts/feelings on our lives and "Guatemala" days. My thoughts tonight, the night of my return from Florida, are filled with happy and with moments of sad...real, and very deep, feelings that for the first time in my life I understood because of Guatemala.</b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;"><span style="color: #f6b26b;">I had been visiting, sometimes living and</span><i> <span style="color: #6fa8dc;">one-person-loving</span></i><span style="color: #f6b26b;"> in Guatemala since the early 1980's (I was dazzled by the the lore, the color, the passion, the powerful secretlike force in the place. I didn't even realize there was a ghastly, and deadly, Civil War going on. There were hundreds of thousands who died during those years and I had no idea why I was one of the few visitors. The Hotels were almost empty. Few travelers. Few guests.</span></span> </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> <span style="color: #93c47d;">I thought Guatemala was only friendly and cautious and those military "check points" seemed prudent and wise. Many Military Police and Civilian Guard groups stopped me for "passport checks" in my rental car. They were pleasant and sent me along. I drove, windows open sucking in the gorgeous, one-of-a-kind living/breathing grandness of the "Land of Eternal Spring". </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;">I was smitten</span><span style="color: #93c47d;"> by a kind of deeply rooted love that was something stronger than anything physical that I had known before anywhere (I am well traveled).</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #c27ba0; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #c27ba0;">My message tonight is that I love Guatemala more and more.</span><span style="color: #ead1dc;"> I lost my dearest and deeply loved partner-friend here...he was a younger, kind and loving person and he was an innocent who was murdered. No reason/killer found. </span><span style="color: #c27ba0;">I left, then returned for retirement at age 62. He is always with me and especially each </span><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">November First</span><span style="color: #c27ba0;">. My grief didn't go away. I returned because my love, my heart, my art and my Soul live here among the Maya, their descendants, and many other friends too. I am here among the Volcanos and religious celebrations and processions because they embrace me. I am welcome here. Celebrations fill the streets with incense, flutes singing, drums beating, brass bands playing (sometimes hello to Santos/as and follow and sometimes I join in the Funeral/followers walking behind the shoulder carried coffin)....The celebrations and traditions are breathtaking and spell binding in my town. Some other early mornings, at Maya ruins, I hear faint chants. I feel presence of </span><span style="color: #ead1dc;">the unknowable</span><span style="color: #c27ba0;">...it is deep here, so deep even the lakes sometimes don't know how deep they are. Volcano-love is real too. I know, as I love the Fuego Volcano. It's active and many volcanos I feel kinship with...they are alive. Odd? Not to me. Not any more. Guatemala grows everything and everyone deep down from inside of itself, inside the ground...sometimes we bloom and sometimes we wilt and sometimes we</span></b> <b style="color: #c27ba0;">sudden</b></span></span><span style="color: #c27ba0;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>ly</b></span></span><b style="color: #c27ba0; font-size: x-large;"> </b><b style="color: #c27ba0;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>erupt</i></span></b><b style="color: #c27ba0; font-size: x-large;">...every moment is real.</b><br />
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<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #f1c232;">I love you Guatemala and as a loved friend of mine would say: </span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;">"a gift given and received from the heart"</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #93c47d; font-size: large;"><b>Leonard Clark Beardsley</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"><b>Leonardo Ricardo</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"><b>San Miguel Dueñas</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"><b>Sacatepequez, Guatemala</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"><b>Central America</b></span><br />
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-1946426344341348552017-07-22T10:57:00.000-06:002017-10-30T10:54:00.669-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part 23: "I had no idea there was so much of me/others to see."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">"So Many Feelings"</span><br />
<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Leonardo Ricardo</span><br />
<span style="color: #f9cb9c;">July 2017</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #ffd966; font-size: large;"><b>I keep wondering about all the feelings I have. I have so many. </b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">Does one get enhanced feelings with more age? Who knows? Not me, but it seems like I have more of them, or I feel them more than ever before. How do you keep count? Sometimes they wear me out! </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-size: large;">I have a friend who I chat with regularly on the telephone. A friend who lives in Guatemala but not near me. We are "Norte Americanos" both. My friend has a PHD and is very wise in many real life "experienced" ways. She has experienced many BIG challenges, met them and remembers much of the journey that may come to an end in Guatemala one day. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">We agree that life is a one way *trip* and the inner and outer scenery changes/changed greatly along the way...all the time there are changes and mostly in a very mind-expanding, and/or mind-boggling way. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">We are NOT among those who stay with their/our own tribe...mostly. We are one way travelers with individual seat assignments, plans, hopes and ideas varied regarding our past and our personal destinies. We are singles and one of a kinds. We agree, we were/are willing to go for the ride, strive to do our part to survive, and to keep going on the creative, and even not so creative, journey. We are willing to "accept" the many things we can not now, or before now, change. We both know how to say "no." We don't admire "denial" or pretend. Each of the "we" are a strong force in our own lives (and sometimes other peoples lives too).</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">For me this is a renewed but even more clear awareness...personal awareness grabs me, shakes me and says something like "stay, stay with ME again today, feel the real, don't be afraid"...being in the *real* brings me to exactly who I am at this moment in time (my time and your time/all time). Few diversions from the "truth" are allowed by me. Leap!</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: large;">I had no idea there was so much of me/others to see...I like being present. </span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;">Leonardo Ricardo aka Leonard Clark Beardsley</span></b><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;"><b>San Miguel Dueñas, Sacatepequez</b></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;"><b>Guatemala</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">(it's a beautiful/sunny day today)</span></b></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-7651656795773752912017-02-20T18:28:00.000-06:002018-02-22T19:21:46.231-06:00BREAKING THANKFULNESS - Chapter 22: " I find it thrilling to discover that I have just awakened from what seemed a very long and less than cheerfilled sleep." Len<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="color: lime;">EARLIER CHAPTER:</span></b><span style="color: #990000;"> </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">"</span></span><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><span style="background-color: black;">I </span><span style="background-color: black;">ran/run in life!</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c;">Ready</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> (again)! Fearless/afraid, hardworking/feckless, steaming/rolling/drolling but mostly clammouring for, and hoping for, more life-filled delights in/around/for me, me, me...this particular story has been about me."</span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: lime;">HERE I GO AGAIN:</span><span style="color: blue;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> I am now 73+ years old and living into 2017 just fine...well, mostly. Do you want to read this? Hear this? </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f6b26b;">No matter</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">, I will tell you anyway: I've had another break-through. It is true. I have not quite passed from my youth, my midlife crisis and into my viejo-hood...at least, not in my mind I have not. I find it thrilling to discover that I have just awakened from what seemed a very long and less than cheerfilled sleep. </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #d5a6bd;"><i> I think I've drifed away from the deepest part of me for well over a decade.</i></span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"><i> </i> Who knew? Not me. Not me until a couple of weeks ago when I discovered every kind of passion lurking inside of my "being" and my body and my soul. </span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: cyan;">My renewed passion for living and loving came as a shock to me</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">. Afterall, I am 73+ and I wasn't expecting to leap into the starting blocks of newness again. I didn't know I was going to leap out of bed, consider a proper diet and be extra enthusiastic about</span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: yellow;"> life</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> again! I will soon be going to the GYM again (where I spent much of my earlier life trying to be attractive for other people). This time, I realize the gym results are for </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;">ME</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">! </span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">I went for a long walk to sort things out on Sunday. It was a gorgeous day for me to stroll around alone in my little town. </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f1c232;"> "Hola Don Gringo"</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> they greeted me! After about an hour I came to the tiny park at the entrance to San Miguel Dueñas </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">(center of the universe as many know it to be, including me)</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">...the extra fascinating thing about this pointed park (a road splits at its beginnings) is that the big statue of San Miguel the Archangel is held up high into the sky by huge/painted cement hands...not your everyday kinda display of greatness and the holy...but here he is...</span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: lime;">our patron, our pal is being "glad-handed"...hea</span></span></b><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: lime;">venly</span></span></b><b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: lime;">!</span></span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">I think I have always been graced/blessed/touched/whatevered with an extra keen ability to sore high up into the sky without moving...I have always, since childhood, thought of</span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: yellow;"> God</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> as everything and everyone around me...first my God loves me when I drink cold water on a hot day. A very big high for me. Then God smothers me with joy when a dog passes my way...I am gifted by the divine with every zesty emotion that includes wanting to make love to the volcanos I see around me (there are three, what kind of love would that be?). </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: lime;"><i>I love loving people too.</i></span></span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">How could this be? </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #e06666;">How could my custom and fresh appreciation and lust for life be happening to me? I am 73!</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> I think I know. I have been stimulated by powers and people outside of me...I love to appreciate life and them deeply!<i> </i></span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: magenta;"><i>I thought deep love had died away and been withdrawn from me. No, I think it, love, will just be behaving differently...maybe. </i></span></span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">I accept my reality and I hope to live another ten years+ and paint with my heart, my delight with everything around me and with the help of my two associates. My studio is at the foot of the Fuego Volcano and we are active, the volcano and me. Guatemala </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: yellow;">IS</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> another land of the free...it has freed me. I have been called upon to express my love for life and appreciate the lives of others around me - more freely...I don't intend to miss the next part of whatever it is that I need to do or be.</span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">Vamos a ver (not so secretly),</span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">Thanks for being here, I love you,</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b>Len/Leonardo</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b>Sacatepequez</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b>Guatemala</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b>Central America</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: black;"><b>February 20, 2017</b></span></span></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-53991347209740636412016-08-22T20:32:00.003-06:002017-10-30T20:20:49.665-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - MY 73rd BIRTHDAY - Part 21: " I have been flying through my lifetime. I have never wanted to miss any of the possibilities..."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #ffe599;">In a few days it will be my birthday.</span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"> </span></b><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">I will be </span><span style="color: #ea9999;">73 years old</span><b style="color: #9fc5e8;">. </b><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"> How could this happen to me? How did I become a full-grown+ man so quickly? "It just happens that way", they say. I got it, "they", like it or not, are often right about "normal" things. Everyday things like getting old. Tantrum: stomp, snear, turn away...</span><span style="color: #fce5cd;">well, ok! </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f6b26b;">I know what "getting older" means and it may not be the favorite part of my being human escapade. We will see, what we will see...verdad? More, no doubt, will, and ought to be, </span><span style="color: #ea9999;">revealed. </span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">I'm getting a glimpse of myself in the memory-mirror...my full length and lifesized </span><i style="color: #b6d7a8;">"blog" </i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">one. It's a whole wall of mirror and a ceiling mirror too. It's clear...the reflecting of the </span><span style="color: #f6b26b;">whole of my life mirror.</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> I have defogged it and I am seeing a well focused glimpse of me. The </span><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><i>"take a good look at my life"</i> </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">mirror. I think it must come just before the images start to fade around the edges. Probably perfect timing...I'll tell you later (if I remember) when I look into the future of my real life mirror.</span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">This is my first time as an admitted </span><span style="color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">"old"</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> person. </span><i><span style="color: #f4cccc;">I am inexperienced at telling <b>this</b> truth.</span></i><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> Like all the other "times" in my life I show up, I will try to figure</span><b style="color: #b4a7d6;"> new/old </b><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">out. I pay attention to friends who do *it*</span><b style="color: #b4a7d6;"> well</b><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> and I, then, will do what I can to enjoy</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c;"> <b><i>older</i></b></span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> and survive myself. I am a survivor so far, I would like to continue for a decade longer (or two).</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"> <span style="color: #ffd966;">As my Mom, </span><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Ardythe</span><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">,</span><span style="color: #ffd966;"> the </span><i><span style="color: #f4cccc;">"lovely in every way"</span></i><span style="color: #ffd966;"> person, often said to me: "We shall see what we shall see, dear"..you see, my Mother still talks to me and I am almost 73. Mom has gone elsewhere, but she remains close to me. I still pay attention to what she tells me. </span><i style="color: #ffd966;"> </i><span style="color: #fff2cc;"><i style="color: #ffd966;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I am a good son</span></i><span style="color: #ffd966;">.</span></span><span style="color: #ffd966;"> You can ask her someday if you don't believe me. She will vouch for my many attempts/efforts at seeking/improving my personal integrity. </span><i><span style="color: #e06666;">Sometimes I do, and have done, better than other times.</span></i><i style="color: #ffd966;"> </i><span style="color: #ffd966;"> </span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #93c47d;">My Mother knows all </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;">(many Moms do)</span><span style="color: #93c47d;">.</span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;">I have been flying through my lifetime. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">I never want to miss any of the great possibilities.</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;"> I could easily see the great fun/potential for fame/fortune around me. I always wanted my life, almost always, and in most every way, to be a dance, a party, a kiss/etc in the dark...a success, one more drink at The Top Of The Mark, a good report card and/or later, a </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">HUGE</span><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #d5a6bd;"> raise (and a little praise)! A full-up life that was/is full of my desire to embrace it and accept it as my own, my own customized/pasturized (now, soberized), terms. I always wanted to kick the tires and have a go fast life.</span><b> <span style="color: #fce5cd;">I got it</span></b><span style="color: #fce5cd;">.</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;"> I've never wanted to run out of gas or be strangled to death with a silk scarf like Isadora Duncan...I only want the wind in my face as it blows through my hair...I most always roll the window down at any speed...with or without a car or not even </span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;">going anywhere .. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3; font-size: large;">full stop!</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #ffd966;">Things have often been much different than I thought they ought to be...</span><span style="color: #ea9999;">amen</span><span style="color: #ffd966;">.</span></i></b></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Most of my life I have been striving very hard to get everything packed and repackaged to fit into the life I imagined for me! I have pushed and shoved my life sometimes. I have wanted everything exciting and a free-to-be-me in life. </span><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><i><b>I have wanted life to keep laughing and kissing/hugging everyone/everywhere around me!</b></i> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">A delicious life, in every way, </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">for myself and others.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #e06666;">I ran/run in life! </span><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Ready</span><span style="color: #e06666;"> (again)! Fearless/afraid, hardworking/feckless, steaming/rolling/drolling but mostly clammouring for, and hoping for, more lifefilled delights in/around/for me, me, me...this particular story has been about me. </span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><i style="color: #fce5cd;">The Otherside of the Volcano </i><i style="color: #fce5cd;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="http://leonardoricardosanto.blogspot.com/">leonardoricardosanto.blogspot.com</a></span></i></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><i style="color: #fce5cd;"> </i><span style="color: #ffd966;">blog entry chapters are all about me:</span></span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">PARENTAL DISCRETION/materialized!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">BUKAROO/ay bandido!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">HOLLYWOOD/horray!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">SAN JOSE/do you know the way?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">GRAND PEOPLE/pianos! </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">GRAND TOUR/s? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">AFFAIRS OF LOVE/s? </span><br />
<span style="color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;">DREAM DO-TOY/marched in!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">DRY DOCKED/12-13-78! </span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">BIG DEAL/s!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">BIG FROG/little pond/s!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">CONDO IN THE CONDADO/coquied! </span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">FLAMBOYAN GLEE/not the tree!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">SUN VALLEY/art leaguers!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">DEEP-WHITE/snowed-in/out!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">SOUTH OF THE BORDERS/ole'</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">MY VERY OWN VOLCANO?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">STAYING RIGHTSIZED/KINDSIZED? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">LOST/FOUND/MOURNING/SCORNING!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">REGROUPING/RESTORING!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">CUBANOS/Dons</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">, joyas, y media de noches!</span><br />
<span style="color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;">LO MEJOR DEL NUEVO MUNDO?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;">FREEDOM/Jubilación!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">BEST/s - LAST/s?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"> <span style="color: #b4a7d6;">Each moment, each part, each joy, each person, is catching up with me! </span><span style="color: #fff2cc;">I will be 73!</span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> I have outdistanced myself and sometimes I run/ran, slam/banged into a wall. I rarely saw the "walls" coming. I always hated them...</span><span style="color: #f4cccc;">climb over the walls or jump the fence!</span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> That's my motto (fingers crossed). </span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><i><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Getting "walled" in or out of life is not fun</span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">.</span></i><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> During some of my younger years I opted for alternate thinking/drinking. I escaped the reality that was, or could have been, mine </span><i style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">full-on</span></i><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">. Lost in </span><i style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="color: #ffe599;">my time</span></i><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">, and hazy as the drunk kissing of a stranger under the pier at Santa Barbara during a heavy rainstorm late at night..all night long - or, should you know about the under-overcoats affair? I was sober. I was </span><i><span style="color: white;">Winterwandering</span></i><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> during snowfalling on a brisk-late-night walk in Paris. The Eiffel Tower glowed in the dark and a unknown friend kept me extra warm. </span></span></span></b></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="color: #a2c4c9;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">Yes, it was me. I was there. I was inside the overcoats and looking in and outside of myself.<span style="font-size: medium;"> <i> </i></span></span><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: medium; font-style: italic;">The view was spectacular!</span></span></span></b></span></span><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"><span style="color: #a2c4c9;"><i><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> </span></i></span></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #e06666;">My life likes to play pretend sometimes...but in a good way, a clear way and in a sane way </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">I leap into the</span><span style="color: red;"> today</span></i></span><span style="color: #e06666;">...often it's like an Artist should/would/could and </span><span style="color: #fce5cd;"><i>does</i></span><span style="color: #e06666;"> way. </span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #d9ead3;">Gracias, a Dios.</span></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #ffe599;">I cherish my life. I am thankful for my life and for all of you, you and you!</span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #38761d;">I love you, now and before now, </span></i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-size: x-small;">(green is my favorite color, did you know?)</span></i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Leonard/Leonardo/Len/Ricardo/Leo and Lenny too!</span> </span></span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: cyan;">to be continued </span></b></span></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-85423082214800481162016-06-10T14:23:00.002-06:002016-06-11T14:59:21.714-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part 20: " Don't tell anyone, I didn't tell a living soul how terrified I was of not being enough, or getting enough. Enough of anything desireable."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">It's June of 2016 and I am sitting at my computer at the foot of Fuego Volcano in Scatepequez, Guatemala. It's now "rainy season" and it has been raining off and on for a few days...good, my world is turning emerald green. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;">I love green</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">, green is my favorite color and I like the rain too...I pull the down comforter over my head and a couple of dogs are always at my feet.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">This morning I am going into Antigua and rush around doing errands, lunch too and then, friends to greet. I am going to Florida next week for one week but my thoughts keep drifting back to the nineteen sixties and the many "Buying Trips" I made to New York...all the "fun" and all the enthusiasm I have always felt for travel, for my work, for life, keeps on rolling along...now and before now, life keeps singing me its alluring song: "there is more to be and see" (and should be/seen). </span><i><span style="color: #fff2cc;">Appetite, I have a great appetite for life.</span></i></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">I have always enhaled deeply on every moment, every adventure and discovery in my life. I've not wanted to miss one thing that has "warmly" touched/brushed by me, my little corner of the world and my part in it. I like almost everything (except </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;">bigotry</span><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #93c47d;">, plain nonsense, exploitation and greed). I am riveted to the small, good and bad, details of life everywhere. Sometimes pushing for the next part of life extra hard...wanting more, </span><i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">even craving more</span></i><span style="color: #93c47d;">...always wanting the positive and better. There is my extra hard striving as to not "feel" the very insecure nature inside of me that was (not much now) afraid I wouldn't get my share of </span><i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">whatever there was I must have</span></i><span style="color: #93c47d;">. Sometimes ignoring "difference" in real evidence that appeared before me. There was always the underlying doubt that I was not "good enough" to just be me, or "get enough" to please me and all of you. All sorts of appetities in my life that now amuse me and shock me. </span></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I defied my own doubts about me, mostly. I´ve ignored, or pretended, that LGBTI people were perceived differently than we were </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">(or angrily overeacted when it was clear we were not).</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> We were/are second class slimy monsters according to those who whispered vileness about us/around us (just loud enough for us to hear the slurs). </span><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Liars! </span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I was defiant and angry, albeit often secretly, but I often returned the favor of unkindness (secretly or not so much). I desperately sought to have more worth than I thought I was "worth" receiving. I eagerly forced my way through my teenage years and then into adulthood, and grew on my own terms </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">(with kind help of others along the way)</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">. There was no handbook of how "to be" for LGBTI people like me. I always, and instinctively, knew the world was wrong about people like us...I was right and the haters of LGBTI people are still wrong...</span><i><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">sometimes deadly wrong.</span></i></span></b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I was obsessed with living and gaining on life. I was self-obsessed and lacked much gratitude for gifts I had been given. This morning, at age 72, I know how fortunate and gifted I have always been. Gifted, as in with gifts, given to me in endless ways by my </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">heritage</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">, my </span><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">parents</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">, my </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">family</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">, my </span><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">talents</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> and </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">coworkers</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> and </span><i><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">a lengthy lifetime of loved ones and dear friends</span></i><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">...we laughed, we´ve cheered, we won/lost and we´ve sometimes cried and even died. Endless </span><span style="color: #fff2cc;">giftides</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">, flowing in and out of my life.</span></b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #fce5cd;">The younger me thought he needed to survive those who would shame and harm him. Some of his fear and "nerves" and self-loathing were based on reality...</span><i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">my reality as it really was but also how a few other people, friends and family, thought it was or thought how it ought be.</span></i><span style="color: #fce5cd;"> The authentic in me couldn't figure out how to "be" me...just be,</span><b style="color: #fce5cd;"> me</b><span style="color: #fce5cd;">, </span><i><span style="color: #fff2cc;">comfortably</span></i><span style="color: #fce5cd;">. I didn't know about the business of growing into a emotionally secure human being who shared freely, loved others and participated mutually. </span><i><span style="color: #fff2cc;"> I drank to help me resist feelings of awkwardness and inferiority. </span></i><span style="color: #fce5cd;"> Don't tell anyone, I didn't tell a living soul how terrified I was of </span><span style="color: #ea9999;">not </span><span style="color: #fce5cd;">being enough. Or getting enough, of anything desireable. I sometimes prayed </span><span style="color: #e69138;">"God, help me!"</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #f6b26b;">I remember something startling (sad-chilling) right now. My travel work/pleasure adventures always included a desire for romantic encounters...enchanted, or not, encounters with handsome young men of my own age (sometimes a little older). My idea of healthy men were handsome, popular and filled with laughter and passion for life and me (lasting relationships I thought would be nice/right too). The first decade of my New York "working-buying" visits I was in my twenties the whole time. I was in good shape, attractive in a regular White young guy sort of way and wore fashionable clothes (I was a department store buyer with a 25% discount gold/executive discount card, heavily used). I remained that way, and tried as hard as I could (including taking diet pills if I gained five-six+</span><span style="color: #f6b26b;"><span style="color: #f6b26b;"> pounds) to remain 150 lbs with a 30 inch waistline...I visited the dentist regularly...my smile was genuine and nice...fancy salon type hair cuts too and in and out of gyms, depending. People usually liked me just as I was...but, if I especially liked THEM, I was not comfortable with being around them...</span><i><span style="color: #fce5cd;">I didn't want people I was attracted to, to know I liked them! </span></i><span style="color: #f6b26b;"> Even people I just wanted to be liked by socially! </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Odd?</span><span style="color: #f6b26b;"> I may have been mostly afraid of rejection, but, in my mind, today, I think I was mostly afraid they might like me, and then what? What do I do? You see, I didn't like me and I certainly didn't want to keep entertaining you with my charming-funny, temporary/artificial, personality! </span><i><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">Itimacy</span></i><span style="color: #f6b26b;">, of most any variety, </span><span style="color: red;">stark sober</span><span style="color: #f6b26b;">, was not normal for me with people I admired. I needed, and desired, a buffer, I needed relaxing...I needed the kind of nerve that one gets after a few drinks. </span></span><b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Party with me!</span></i></b></span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;">Here's the catch:</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #a64d79; font-size: large;"> I always drank alcoholicly and smoked Marlboro Cigarettes (only at night) when I was out in the bars cruising or attending parties or meeting someone new...I had "habits" that would become addictive but I was never interested in marijuana or hard drugs. I was a child of sixties, but not a hippie. I was trying as hard as I could to be a more popular me (and "Dancing as fast as I can")...I wanted to be a more desireable version of ME. That is exhausting and it wasn't about self improvement! </span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><img alt="Image result for Liquor Bottles,photos" 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" /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span><b><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Early in my 20's, I was a department store buyer. Salesmen/women took me out for lovely lunches and dinners. I always ordered a drink (or two, not three or I would get drunk). Almost every night </span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">(later in the evening)</span><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> I went out and met friends at various bars. </span><i><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">I got drunk almost every night.</span></i><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> I almost always, for years, was hung over at work (anywhere)...often I felt dread and almost dead inside but I pretended to be HAPPY/ALIVE so the world wouldn't know the real pain inside of me! I tried extra hard to succeed at work. </span><i><span style="color: #ffe599;">I </span><span style="color: #fff2cc;">needed</span><span style="color: #ffe599;"> to succeed.</span></i></span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138;">One trip to New York I was drinking heavily on the plane before landing at JFK. I had a hotel reservation at a "nice", not elegant, hotel on Park Avenue South...I was drunk when I got in the taxi cab and went to the hotel to check in. Drank more in my room, changed my clothes and then had another taxi driver drive me all over New York. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc;">A very lonely night on the town:</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138;"> Uptown, Downtown, Midtown, Eastside/Westside...everywhere! I was afraid to arrive at any destination because I didn't want anyone to SEE me as drunk as I was...</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9d2e9;">as drunk as I needed to be</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138;"> to meet that "someone special" who, of course, could not possibly have been interested in a drunk like me! </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599;">I knew it</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138;">. After a couple of hours I paid the cabbie and I went back up to my hotel room and looked down on the lights and people on Central Park South. </span><span style="background-color: black;"> </span><span style="background-color: black; color: yellow;">Selfpity:</span><span style="background-color: black; color: orange;"> </span><b><i><span style="color: cyan;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: cyan;">"I would like you to meet Leonard. Len is in his twenties and he is Gay and alone tonight in New York City...you'd love him if you liked him...and,</span><span style="color: #fff2cc;"> so would he</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: cyan;">.</span></span></i></b></span><b style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span style="background-color: black; color: cyan;">"</span></i></b><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: black; color: #f1c232;">To be continued</span></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-51911190249922058272016-02-27T15:31:00.001-06:002016-06-11T17:30:25.282-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part 19: All-night, every night, "nights out" in New York City<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img height="212" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTX-j9bfDKZn3j39anMyRvXewqHF1ljz40CI_QS-zTDKCVNU559" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;">New York, New York, Lauren Bacall's "Applause" and more!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">Phil Stout</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"> was a very good friend. Phil went to University of California at Berekely and worked part time at Rhodes Department Store in Oakland selling womens shoes. Most all students that I knew had part time jobs while going to college. We met in </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">San Francisco</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"> and became part of a group of young friends who traveled into "the City" every weekend from different colleges in the San Francisco/San Jose Bay area...we hung out mostly on Sutter Street at the Club Rendezvous. FUN (but no dancing allowed for Gay people in S.F. yet in the early 1960´s even though </span><span style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-size: large;">Carol Doda</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"> was going topless in North Beach)!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">Phil was especially clean cut and attractive in a </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">blue eyed</span><span style="color: #fff2cc;">, big smile, flashing </span><span style="color: white;">white teeth</span><span style="color: #fff2cc;"> and deep-dimpled way...he was intelligent, handsome, well mannered and modest...he had a great sense of humor. We became regular "drinking buddies" and after University he did graduate work at San Jose State and lived close by me near downtown San Jose. </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">Ron Williams</span><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> returned to San Jose, after the Peace Corps (and his divorce) and met Phillip. </span><i><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">The two became immediate friends and intimates.</span></b></i><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> I was pleased, I was fond of the both of them. After Ron was hired at the Community Development Foundation for assignment as country director in the Dominican Republic, he moved abroa</span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;">d. It was a sad seperation for the two of them. Ron later promoted Phillip, to his employers, for his assistant job that was available in Santo Domingo. Phil, UC graduate, spoke Spanish, was a natural, and he got the job. Off he went to work with Ron in the Caribbean. I missed my friends but my life went on in a positive way and I moved to Arizona and moved up in my career path at Goldwater's.</span><br />
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<b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">Ron and Phil had </span><span style="color: yellow; font-size: large;">"relationship"</span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"> troubles and had a very nasty brawl on a vacation they took together in London. Phil left Ron, quit his job on the spot. A few months later he moved to New York city and found work immediately at </span><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">Gimbel's </span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">Department store on Herald Square. He worked as a salesman in the mens sportswear department. Someone told me Phil was living in New York and working at either Macy's or Gimbels...on my very next buying trip I set out to find him. I SURPRISED us both when I DEMANDED help/service after spotting him behind the Puritan knit shirt counter on the main floor at Gimbels! Hugs! What a great time we had..</span><span style="color: lime; font-size: large;">quickly</span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"><span style="color: lime;">.</span><span style="color: #cc0000;"> I moved out of the hotel and we spent my store expense money on </span><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><i>lovely dinners, theatre tickets (vendor paid) and nights out...mostly, all-night nights out</i>...</span></span><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">we were in our twenties and filled with adventure and free-spirit with a pre-HIV/AIDS state-of-mind.</span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Ron later quit his job in the Dominican Republic and came to Arizona and lived with me. We rented a house in Scottsdale behind Camelback Mountain and Ron became a Probation Officer for Maricopa County and then he purchased a 240 Z (a very hot car at the time)...</span><span style="color: #d9ead3;"><i>not one quiet moment followed</i></span><span style="color: #ffd966;"><i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">.</span></i> </span> </span><br />
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<span style="color: cyan; font-size: large;">More later, you'll agree.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: yellow;">to be continued </span></b><br />
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-58692522160592250302016-01-23T12:30:00.002-06:002016-06-10T14:25:31.149-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Chapter Eighteen: Arizona, late 1960´s - I experienced life while looking through heavily tinted/medicated/inebriated eyes - playing pretend<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img src="http://i.istockimg.com/file_thumbview_approve/23462703/6/stock-photo-23462703-liquor-bottles-on-a-white-background.jpg" height="288" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: small; text-align: left;">Breaking my own rule by telling you part of my ¨drinking¨ saga. </span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="color: #ffd966; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">I am reflecting about my life as I type my ¨personal¨ story. Not an unsual thing since it is an autobiography. I can see as I type/reflect and write about my life in the sixties there is much drinking, drugging and lots of self-medicating by me. In San Francisco and in Arizona I drank without much restraint several times a week. I took me with me when I moved to Arizona, then back to California four years later. Interesting, now, after more than half of my life sober, I'd forgotten most of the out-of-control everyday antics that led me to another whole new version of ¨being¨ in my later life, at 35 years old...I'd forgotten the madness that helped me reach out for a saner based existence. I'll share some of my earlier</span><b style="color: #ffd966;"> real </b><span style="color: #ffd966;">life experience which led me to </span><b><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">wanting me back</span></b><span style="color: #ffd966;"> from the addiction of alcoholism. </span></span></i></span></span></td></tr>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d;">Living in </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">Arizona</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d;">, late sixties, I experienced it through heavily tinted/medicated/inebriated eyes. After arriving in Arizona I set out to make friends. I knew not one person and there were only a couple of Gay bars (as opposed to San Francisco/San Jose area dozens). I liked my new job as a buyer at Goldwaters. Everyone at Goldwaters seemed to be ¨Conservatives¨ but very accepting of the rights of the individual...I was amazed. I was fond of my coworkers at Goldwater's, but, I knew right away my social life must reinvent itself..finding a ¨Gay¨ outside social life in Phoenix was going to be a challenge. Phoenix/Scottsdale was not a Gay destination (yet). </span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8;">There was a Gay bar by the the name of </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966;">Diamond Lil´s</span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;"> on the ¨right¨ side of town and another two Gay bars deep into the downtown bowels of old Phoenix. The downtown bars were totally out of question and not well patronized but LIL´S I could tolerate. The newish bar had small tables and plenty of air conditioning (no dancing). Lil's, in a strip mall, was the only place where younger Gay people, out-of-towners and/or newcomers like me met. That was good (enough). The ¨local¨ Gay people seemed quite closeted, shy and secretive and needed a little ¨organizing.¨ A small group of us, more experienced with Gay life we out-of-staters, helped them! We found one another, poco a poco, eventually...then, finally, we created some excitement in the night hot Arizona air. We made up a social group of (those of us sentenced to the calm Gaylife in Arizona) who began to have FUN in the ¨Valley of the Sun¨...Maricopa, Country, Arizona. Here we are! We grew, we had parties, we made Lesbian friends, Bi sexual and Heterosexual friends too...we made the place move with our ¨group!¨ Almost every Sunday we went tubing down the Verde River and had late afternoon cook-outs afterward...Mondays were a struggle after all that fun in the sun! Lot's of dinner parties, meeting new acquaintances and laughing all night (or at least until one o´clock when the bars closed). Later another bar, with dancing, Mi Casa/Su Casa opened up the street from Diamond Lil's..</span><i><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">it rocked.</span></i></span></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">I went to New York and Los Angeles on buying trips from </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">Goldwater's</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">. Since I had spent my high school years in Los Angeles I knew my way around the ¨City of Angels¨ and Hollywood/West Hollywood too...Los Angeles was where my family lived and I considered Los Angeles home (I still do and I have not been there for decades and my family has mostly all departed). </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #f6b26b;">New York</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6;"> was/is wonderful. I had visited New York as a buyer for Hart's in San Jose and going back more regularly for Goldwaters was inspiring! New York always takes my breath away with the real possibilities! 24/7 real possibilities of enchantment, romance and many discoveries. Some of my San Francisco friends had moved to New York city in the 60's...I had pals in NYC and quite often I would use the per diem for Hotel/etc and party with the friends I stayed with in The Village. I also received lots of ¨pairs¨ of Theatre tickets and saw most everything on Broadway (with great seats - the vendors paid for them) during those years! The bars in NYC were open all-night. I drank all-night. Almost always I would have a heavy work schedule in the market (or at the 5th Ave office of Associated Dry Goods) each day. I took tranquilizers, I drank at lunch, I survived myself. I was young, filled with energy but DREADED each hung-over work day. When staying in Hotels I sometimes would call the house doctor in the morning for ¨vitamin¨ shots (which I think were pure sedatives because I felt ¨perfect¨ immediately). </span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #e06666;">I pretended I was alive inside.</span></i><span style="color: #76a5af;"><span style="color: #76a5af;"> I have always lived in a world of my own especially neurotic, imaginative, overdrive. I was, sometimes I am still, hiper or edgy and suffer from claustrophobia and fear of heights! I find most every person, every place/thing and *situation* fascinating (both good ones and not so much). I can become rivited on <i>the bazaar</i> and not hear a word spoken around me...thirty seconds short of </span><i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">obsessed</span></i><span style="color: #76a5af;"> , I come back and I move along. </span></span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">When I had appointments high up in New Yorks Empire State building or when I would have lunch dates at the ¨ Copter Club¨ on TOP of the Pan Am building I would get very nervous...my shakey hands would swet...I needed a drink (or two) and I would find a bar and have vodkas on the rocks (you can't smell vodka..verdad?)...then, and only then, would I ascend in the elevator (all the while thinking about the great distance as I was taking myself away from the ground level...swet, swet) . Then, post lift off, I would join in and </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599;">pretend that I wasn't scared</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;"> to death when they seated me next to the window (always, so I could enjoy the view)! Most of my 20's I was hung over to the point of feeling sick, upset and different than everyone else...I was (but I didn't want them to know I was)...I am really good at playing pretend with myself and others. </span></span></b><br />
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<i><span style="background-color: black; color: cyan;">to be continued</span></i></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-76879686465603378852015-12-20T11:44:00.005-06:002015-12-28T14:47:55.020-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part Seventeen: Fast Forward to Pre-Christmas 2015 GREETINGS with Pedro and Beatriz Alvarado and my living compañeros/compañeras too! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img src="http://antiguadailyphoto.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/VALLE-PANCHOY-NUBLADO-IMG_4829.jpg" height="266" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;">The Panchoy Valley, Sacatepequez, Guatemala</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">It's almost </span><span style="background-color: black; color: red; font-size: large;">Christmas</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">. It's almost the end of the year 2015. It's a very cloudy morning at the foot of the Volcan de Fuego, Sacatepequez, Guatemala. We are feeling festive and fine and Juan Carlos, aka Carlitos Fuentes, is preparing the garden for </span><span style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-size: large;">Noche Buena </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">celebrations and </span><span style="background-color: black; color: yellow; font-size: large;">Convite</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;"> guests a few days later. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ffe599;">During the past week I have been thinking about my life and the gift of living it as a (busy/loved) child, (active) teen, (striving) adult and as a once *thirsty* and now non-drinking alcoholic. Today, I am a sober (not to be confused with always sane) artist in residence who is living at my adopted retirement cottage/village in the enchanting-take-your-breath-away valley of Panchoy, Sacatepequez, Guatemala, </span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">HERE</span><span style="color: #ffe599;">:</span> </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><a href="https://books.google.com.gt/books?id=_K_Ou92_Ib0C&pg=PA9&lpg=PA9&dq=Valley+of+Panchoy,+Guatemala?&source=bl&ots=RH8yhdMQN2&sig=vvmUUbOx5TRbLNfXv9z6hAZmypk&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi08eq56-rJAhVMXR4KHV2xCPsQ6AEILzAD#v=onepage&q=Valley%20of%20Panchoy%2C%20Guatemala%3F&f=false">https://books.google.com.gt/books?id=_K_Ou92_Ib0C&pg=PA9&lpg=PA9&dq=Valley+of+Panchoy,+Guatemala?&source=bl&ots=RH8yhdMQN2&sig=vvmUUbOx5TRbLNfXv9z6hAZmypk&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi08eq56-rJAhVMXR4KHV2xCPsQ6AEILzAD#v=onepage&q=Valley%20of%20Panchoy%2C%20Guatemala%3F&f=false</a><a href="https://books.google.com.gt/books?id=_K_Ou92_Ib0C&pg=PA9&lpg=PA9&dq=Valley+of+Panchoy,+Guatemala?&source=bl&ots=RH8yhdMQN2&sig=vvmUUbOx5TRbLNfXv9z6hAZmypk&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi08eq56-rJAhVMXR4KHV2xCPsQ6AEILzAD#v=onepage&q=Valley%20of%20Panchoy%2C%20Guatemala%3F&f=false"> </a> .<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">There is a whole lifetime of adventure and experience that I have journeyed through and enjoyed (mostly) in my </span><i><span style="color: cyan;">passage</span></i><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"> to date. It's been fun writing my personal story here, chapter by chapter, The Otherside Of The Volcano is slowly taking shape. I keep thinking that I want to tell more very private parts of my experience...maybe I will write</span><i><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"> </span><span style="color: cyan;">flashbacks</span></i><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"> in the new year. My personal ¨narrative¨ on life brings me to this morning, December 20, 2015, in this historic, and sometimes mysteriously enchanting, place. Leonardo aka Len, a white, retired-Americano (almost all English blood with a touch of Pawnee Indian thanks to a pioneer to the U.S. West and my Great/Great, mixed race, Grandmother ) . I live on the Calle Real at the foot of the Fuego Volcano and at the edge of Spanish Land Grant finca San Sebastian.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img src="http://www.valledepanchoy.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Volcan-de-fuego.jpg" height="137" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;">Volcan de Fuego (active)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;">I am living among the Guatemalan people (mostly with Maya and mixed, Ladino, heritage) in a fascinating village environment that is </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138; font-size: large;">San Miguel Dueñas</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">, Sacatepequez. The local residents/culture, all of them/it intact, except for retired married Americanos who live at the other end of town. I rarely see them. Most everyone I interact with daily are Guatemaltecos. I love them and they are very kind and polite to me...they </span><i><span style="color: cyan;">always</span></i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> inspire me.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img height="300" src="https://myantigua.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/valle20de20panchoy20y20antigua20guatemala5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;">Volcan de Agua (Ciudad Vieja at upper right corner and Antigua in foreground)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #d5a6bd;">San Miguel Dueñas is authentic to the core with a very long local history since it is located just south of Ciudad Vieja, the second Capitol of Guatemala. </span><span style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="color: magenta;">Iximche</span><span style="color: #d5a6bd;">, the first capitol, now a lovely ruin (and favorite place of mine) is about one hour and a half away by car </span></span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><a href="http://leonardoricardosanto.blogspot.com/2011/11/thanksgiving-spirit-of-iximche-in.html">http://leonardoricardosanto.blogspot.com/2011/11/thanksgiving-spirit-of-iximche-in.html</a></span></span><span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> ).</span> </span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599;"><span style="color: #ffe599;">Historically interesting, to me, is my nearness to the Volcan de Agua and the death-by-mudslide place of </span><span style="color: lime; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Beatriz de la Cueva de Alvarado</span><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> (1510 -September 1541). Doña Beatriz, </span><span style="color: #ffe599;">second wife (sister of first wife) of </span><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Pedro de Alvarado y Contreras, Conquistador. You see, after news of the </span><span style="color: lime; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">Governor Pedro Alvarados</span><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="color: #ffe599;"> death in Mexico, Doña Beatriz manipulated the political confusion and made herself Governor of Guatemala...she died a few days later, drowned, with her baby, in a mudslide at her home in Ciudad Vieja. A superstitous end? </span><i><span style="color: cyan;"> Some say so</span></i><span style="color: #ffe599;">. </span></span></span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599;">There are still mudslides in </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666;">Ciudad Vieja</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599;"><span style="color: #ffe599;"> when it rains extra hard during the rainy season. Some things never change in this little valley and I feel drenched in the culture, history and lore of this place...mysterious, thick! I can ¨physically¨ note the heaviness of the atmosphere that includes memories of the past: tragic, honorable and/or grand or bad. Sometimes I feel the presence of the passionate, and often desperate, lives led of those who have come before us. Is it my imagination? </span><i><span style="color: cyan;"> I don't think so.</span></i><span style="color: #ffe599;"> </span></span></b><br />
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<b style="font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">This morning </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9d2e9; font-size: large;">Juan Carlos</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"> lit another votive candle honoring the life of a friends mother who recently died. The journey continues...may she rest in peace and rise in </span><span style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-size: large;">Glory</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">.</span></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img alt="Alvarado.jpeg" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a6/Alvarado.jpeg/225px-Alvarado.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;">Pedro Alvarado, Conquistador, 1st Governor of Guatemala<br /><br /><br /><b><span style="color: lime; font-size: large;">HAPPY HOLIDAYS, MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY NEW YEAR!</span></b><br /><span style="color: #ffd966;">(The World around me continues to astound me)</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: cyan;">WE WILL NOW RETURN TO MY EARLIER LIFE STORY REPORTING FROM ARIZONA IN THE LATE SIXTIES!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: red;"><i><b>to be continued</b></i></span></span><br />
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-37845705173842425542015-10-24T20:56:00.002-06:002016-08-23T09:36:27.510-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part Sixteen : David Hicks and Lady Pamela Mountbatten (and me, me, me) <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Here I am. Well, this is not exactly me but a very nice (I am certain) OPEL enthusiast speaking German. </span> </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">I arrived in Arizona. I drove my </span><span style="color: red;"><b>NEW RED</b> <b>OPEL</b></span><span style="color: #f1c232;"> Kadett fastback (this, was my second Opel, and it had black seatcovers and no air conditioning) from San Francisco (who needed air conditioning in San Francisco?) to Phoenix (swet). Goldwater's paid for all the moving and relocating of me expenses. I arrived at a motel they had arranged near the Park Central Mall (the Executive Offices of Goldwaters). I was given a week to find a home and lots of per diem to find my way around Phoenix nightlife. Good God (help me), this place was not exactly Gay San Francisco. Where was the ¨make love and not war¨ crowd? Who knew? Not me...worse yet, the bars closed at midnight or one and it often was 100+ degrees when you stepped outside! Inferno!</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f1c232; font-size: large;">The very next day I started looking for an apartment to rent on a monthly basis until I found something more like home. I was told to stay on the ¨streets¨ and not go over to the ¨avenues¨ (avenues were not considered very chic neighborhoods). </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;">NOTE: </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img alt="Camelback Mountain 2.jpg" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a9/Camelback_Mountain_2.jpg/280px-Camelback_Mountain_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #b6d7a8;">Camelback Mountain - soon I would live directly behind it!</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;">¨Rent above Camelback Road¨ which was the main connecting street that takes one from Phoenix to Scottsdale. I did. I rented a one bedroom apartment in a swinging singles (young, like me, mostly) modern/nice/big pool party building by Camelback Road on the edge of Scottsdale. I never met one person other than the manager the almost-a-year I lived there...they weren't my type. Sniff, sniff (forced smile)...besides, I was a <i>very</i> fashionable buyer and I traveled lots</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999; font-size: large;">!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;">Goldwaters had a lovely branch store at Scottsdale Fashion Square where we served customers such as ´Kitty¨ from <span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">¨Gunsmoke¨ and Joseph Stalins daughter <span style="line-height: 16px;">Svetlana Alliluyeva</span><span style="line-height: 16px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 16px;"><a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-15931683">http://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-15931683</a></span></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"> who was married to </span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 22px;">architect</span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 22px;"> William Wesley Peters. There were also dozens and dozens of even more notable everyones con dinero<b> </b>who shopped<b> Goldwater's</b>. Goldwater's Arizona - we <i>were a ¨carriage trade¨ upscale store and quite a glamourous bunch of retail coconuts...yes, we were*. </i></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vCsSOYDVk3k/ViwzahaxoqI/AAAAAAAARfA/EAYvXREmHzw/s1600/-scottsdale-goldwaters-1961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: black; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vCsSOYDVk3k/ViwzahaxoqI/AAAAAAAARfA/EAYvXREmHzw/s320/-scottsdale-goldwaters-1961.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd;">Goldwaters Scottsdale (Katchina dancers dancing on the facade)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 22px;"></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 22px;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">*Much later a salesman informed me that we, Associated Dry Goods employees, were ,most often ¨white anglos¨ and considered to be quite the ¨specially selected¨. sniff/sniff, staff in a retail buying world made up mostly of Jewish merchants...oy vey, I didn't know</span><i><span style="color: #fff2cc;">. </span><span style="color: #404040;"> </span></i></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/6e/Amanda_Blake_Kitty_Gunsmoke_1966.JPG/180px-Amanda_Blake_Kitty_Gunsmoke_1966.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc;">Amanda ¨Miss Kitty¨ Blake</span></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><img alt="Joseph Stalin with daughter Svetlana, 1935.jpg" src="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/79/Joseph_Stalin_with_daughter_Svetlana%2C_1935.jpg/220px-Joseph_Stalin_with_daughter_Svetlana%2C_1935.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6;">Lana Peters and her dad</span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">I must tell this story. I'll tell it right now. After a year of buying all the Smallwares (Stationery, Notions, Luggage, Greeting Cards etc) at Goldwaters I was promoted (thanks to great sales and profits and our then President, </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">John Rupel</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">) to Buyer of all the Home Furnishings Soft Lines ( Sheets, Bath Shop, Table Top, Bedding, Design Studio and Decorative Fabrics)...it was a very large volumn area in the store and I loved developing the volumn by introducting lots of * designer * fashions in linens/etc. We, high-end specialty type store that we were, also had extra fine Wamsutta linens and a Carlin Shop.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-khl4sqmd2no/Viw4uqctlGI/AAAAAAAARfY/7Osmqz0iaT0/s1600/imagesDAVIDHICKS%253D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-khl4sqmd2no/Viw4uqctlGI/AAAAAAAARfY/7Osmqz0iaT0/s1600/imagesDAVIDHICKS%253D.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;">On one of my Market/Buying trips in New York I was invited by the J.P. Stevens company to meet the very famous, <i>almost the most famous</i>, British designer </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">David Hicks</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;">. David Hicks had designed a marvelous and colorful group of sheets and towels and he was going to introduce them by visiting a few (very/very *suitable*) stores who would be featuring David Hicks designs for </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd; font-size: large;">J.P. Stevens</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;">...there was a huge publicity campaign nationally and lots advertising money for four color.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;">David Hicks wife would be accompaning him for the personal visits/U.S. tour and three stores in the United States were selected. Goldwaters of Arizona would become one of them (they wanted to see the Grand Canyon and there we were)!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">The wife of David Hicks - </span><span style="color: #fff2cc;">Lady Pamela Mountbatten</span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: black;">(cousin of Queen Elizabeth II)</b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd;"><b style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;">Lady Pamela Carmen Louise Hicks</b><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> (</span><a class="mw-redirect" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Married_and_maiden_names" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="Married and maiden names">née</a><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span><b style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;">Mountbatten</b><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">; born 19 April 1929) is a </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_nobility" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="British nobility">British aristocrat</a><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">. She is the younger daughter of the </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Mountbatten,_1st_Earl_Mountbatten_of_Burma" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="Louis Mountbatten, 1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma">1st Earl Mountbatten of Burma</a><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> by his wife, </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edwina_Mountbatten,_Countess_Mountbatten_of_Burma" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="Edwina Mountbatten, Countess Mountbatten of Burma">Edwina Mountbatten</a><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">. Through her father, Lady Pamela is a first cousin of </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_Philip,_Duke_of_Edinburgh" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh">Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh</a><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"> and a great niece of the last Tsarina of Russia,</span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexandra_Feodorovna_(Alix_of_Hesse)" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;" title="Alexandra Feodorovna (Alix of Hesse)">Alexandra Feodorovna</a><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">. As of May 2013, Lady Pamela is 687th in line for the throne.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px; text-align: start;"><span style="color: #fce5cd; font-family: sans-serif;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_Pamela_Hicks">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lady_Pamela_Hicks</a></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ea9999;">GULP</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc;">, the Queens cousin is coming!</span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">My team of interior decorators were nicely talented people who specialized in doing draperies, custom bedspreads and some floor coverings for our clients. Not one of them (three in-house designers and my two assistant buyers) had done anything like the room vinettes that we must plan/execute for our special David Hicks at Goldwater's Scottsdale opening! We would be using ALL David Hicks fabrics of course and J.P. Stevens sent me large quantities of every design/color to work with....<i>all gratis</i>. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">There was more: All the newspaper full page ads in the Arizona Republic and National Magazines...100% paid by J.P. Stevens. The little ¨rooms for vinettes¨ (4) were brand new and ready to be ¨designed¨ in the decorative fabric department after the recent remodel of our Scottsdale store. Plus, the Decorative Department was directly accross the main aisle from the sheets and bath shop!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">However, there was NO promotional Goldwaters budget for either the room setting samples or the gala Champagne Party! </span></b><br />
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<b style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">A</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">fter lots of angling and haggling our team finally got </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">Redmond Largay</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;"> (a new President at Goldwaters and self-isolating ass) to agree. He was my merchandise manager. I reported directly to him, yet, he rarely collaborated with me even with my sales/stock buying plans. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">We agreed. Our group would make ALL the custom merchandise for room settings and attach retail prices to each item...no samples, no free-bees, no display budget. All custom designs in the vinettes would come out of my open-to-buy and be added to my business plans of the various departments represented in the sample rooms. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">Catherine Westie</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">, Advertising Director and Fashion Coordinator would host the Cocktail party (Catherine *got it*) . </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">Mr. Redmond-unavailable always, didn't know much/anything about David Hicks or the Home Furnishings Soft Lines area or all the publicity and excitement we would generate. By being with Marshall Fields and Bloomingdales, Goldwaters was included with/featured three fashion U.S. stores...excellent publicity! We even enhanced our position with the TRADE newspaper editorials. El Largay finally *got it* after making our lives misersable for weeks (don't tell anyone but I proceeded without him before he said yes because J.P. Stevens had ¨guaranteed¨ the sales no less). </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">NOW, ABOUT ONE OF THE MOST EMBARASSING MOMENTS IN MY LIFE!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #fce5cd; font-size: large;"> The David Hicks room settings turned out beautifully (naturally). They were beyond great and well-received by all ¨specially invited¨ present. David Hicks and the J.P. Stevens people made many statements of praise to the press and to me and my staff. I was included in many of the photographs with store top tier management and David Hicks. Redmond strutted his stuff. The event was a drop-dead success with every well-known person in Arizona attending. The waiters were spiffy, the (good) champagne endless the hors d´oeuvres the finest.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">SALES WERE EXCELLENT</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">I was asked to have my photograph taken with Lady Pamela Mountbatten. We stood together, we chatted a bit, we posed and my right cheek started twitching. It twitched uncontrolably..the photographer, re-positioned us for the photograph, relax/etc, my face kept twitching, the photographer<i> kept trying</i>...Lady Pamela looked at me TWITCHING and then quietly whispered to me </span></b><b style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">¨go drink some of the champagne¨</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138;"><b>¨You will be fine¨</b></span></span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: magenta; font-size: large;">I did.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: lime; font-size: large;">I was.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: cyan; font-size: large;">It never happened again (yet).</span></b><br />
<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b><span style="background-color: black; color: yellow; font-size: small;"><i>to be continued</i></span></td></tr>
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-66198407369901977772015-09-11T11:29:00.001-06:002015-09-13T06:15:29.538-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part Fifteen: Living in the shade of the Saguaro (Carnegiea gigantea) behind Camelback Mountain - Goldwater's Department Store <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Saguaro (Carnegiea gigantea)</span></span></td></tr>
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">I felt it was time (later in the 1960´s) for me to move up and move along with my career as a retail buyer. L. Hart and Son and my mentors Alex Hart, Harry Schlisky and Nick Marafino had prepared me for a full-out retail career in a large store/market. I had learned retail skills from the Retail Buyers Guide as an executive trainee. I had worked in the stockrooms and in all of the departments of my Division as an assistant buyer and even had market experience in San Francisco, Los Angeles and New York as a full buyer. I worked hard and my buying and merchandise skills soared. My achievements were reflected with excellent profits, well managed buying plans and well executed sales/stocks. I was a young person who had learned quite a lot and I was fascinated with my ability to instinctively know what our customers would want and then they would buy (at the retail price I had determined for quickist/most profitable sale). I had, and still do have good ¨instincts¨ as to the desireability of most classifications of womens/mens fashion merchandise, accessories, gourmet foods and giftwares too. </span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">In the mid 60´s I also had San Jose State College training/background in art (fine and commercial/design) which most of the other retail people did not. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">I understood color</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">, I remember color and liked design extra-well and I had the ¨flair¨ that became a real advantange when selecting/displaying/promoting basic or fashion goods...especially, SALEABLE, fashion goods. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: red; font-size: large;">Remember the sixties?</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;"> Remember Peter Max? Remember Piet Mondrian-retros and the neo-advanguardistas put to fabric and paper prints? Remember Pierre Cardin? Psychedelics? Maxi's and Mini's and Chelsea? Mod? Pop/Op Art? Posters? Remember ¨In Cold Blood¨ and ¨I am Dancing as Fast as I Can¨ and (drum roll) ¨Sex and the Single Girl¨ (at Hart's I was the Stationery and Book Buyer and Gifts too)? Remember Paper Flowers and wearing </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c; font-size: large;">¨Flowers in Your Hair¨,</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;"> incense/candles/sealing wax and Lava Lamps? Andy Warhol? Oleg Cassini?Audrey Hepburn/Breakfast at Tiffany´s and Diana Vreeland/Vogue and the floral fantasies on decorative fabrics by Gloria Vanderbilt for Charles Bloom? Yves St. Laurent even designed sheets and towels and </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">Bishop Pike</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #c27ba0; font-size: large;"> was at Grace Cathedral/San Francisco opening thoughts/doors to people and places that had NEVER been opened before!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;">Because of my Fine Art background, I could work with the advertising department and with their copy writers (especially hyping trends), illustrators and layout people. I contributed ideas to the Visual/Display Departments and their quick changing themes and it was all very natural and fun for me. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">I understood the retail business.</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;"> I knew it vertically. My markdowns were always fewer than planned and way below national averages (MOR) with any classification of goods. That meant the profitability in the various departments I bought for and merchandised was good. I was a full Buyer before leaving Hart´s and San Jose.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">DORIS DEAN</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;"> - Helen McDougall - (and I can't remember ¨Lois¨ the other womens last name)</span><br />
<span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">were the very best (3) Retail Personnel Agents on the West Coast. All three of their offices were individually/discreetly located in Los Angeles near the California Merchandise Mart and the California Apparel Mart. Doris Dean was considered ¨the best¨ because her clients were the most famous, and often most elegant, Department and Specialty Stores in the United States (and beyond). I was accepted as one her very discreetly ¨listed¨ up-coming ¨prospects¨ for ¨her stores¨ looking for new buying staff. Discreet was always the situation in retail (and probably other fields too) as the Buyer was usually still on staff, was needed on staff, even as a replacement was sought or found . The ¨new buyer¨ needed to move to another city quite often and notice/relocation takes time)! </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">It was all very quietly done and I remember flying off for interviews in the middle of the night before a day off, to return quickly, and back in place after </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">prospective new position interviews in other cities. Kind of the retail version of a James Bond thriller, I thought.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">Goldwaters Scottsdale</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">Doris Dean arranged my appointment at </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9d2e9; font-size: large;">Goldwater´s Department Store, Associated Dry Goods, Phoenix and Scottsdale.</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"> Very elegant stores that had just then been sold to Associated Dry Good by the Goldwater family </span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goldwater%E2%80%99s">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goldwater%E2%80%99s</a></span><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">. </span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">I put on my new </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;">Hardy Amies</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"> suit (with </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #a64d79; font-size: large;">Lanvin </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">necktie that I still have and admire hanging foreverly in my closet) and took the first flight from San Francisco/SFO to Sky Harbor/Phoenix very early one morning and quickly had my interview with President John Rupel, met Chairman (honorary) Robert Goldwater (Barry's brother), had lunch with George Karatsis, VP Merchandise Manager, at a well known old/clubby restaurant in Scottsdale The job was offered. Buyer of Stationery, Greeting Cards, Notions and Luggage. I accepted immediately and one year later I would be promoted to Buyer of all Home Furnishings Soft Lines including Domestics/Sheets, Bath, Table Linens, Decorative Fabrics, Fashion Area Rugs and Design Studio...it was a fabulous job. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #d5a6bd; font-size: large;">Goldwater's moved me to Scottsdale, Arizona. </span><br />
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<b><i><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">to be continued </span></i></b></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-90890944001286838402015-07-30T13:53:00.001-06:002015-08-01T07:05:34.997-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part Fourteen: Running with the herd in Indianapolis, visiting loveable Unitarians and their loveable dog ¨Louie¨ in Orlando and off to see more clearly in Miami! (July 2015)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;">Today is Thursday, the 30th of July, 2015. I returned from a month long trip to the U.S.A. (of North America) last Sunday. It was a very enjoyable trip for me as every year I work with my longtime friends at </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3; font-size: large;">Harry Klitzner Company</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;"> of Providence, Rhode Island at the</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"> Elk´s</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;"> Convention, Grand Lodge. It's a huge affair and every year the convention is in a different city! We are our own very specialized road show. </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9d2e9; font-size: large;">This year thousands of Elk´s visited Indianapolis, Indiana.</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #6fa8dc; font-size: large;"> Last year New Orleans and next year Houston, Texas! I love going to the convention and I love working in the enormous convention booth of the 100+ year old Harry Klitzner Company with our team of product development experts, cashiers and salesmakers extraordinare.. H.K. designs and makes jewelry (costume and fine), elaborate custom pins, fashion accessories, embrodered apparel, fun t-shirts, stationery and car accessories for the Elks with Elk personalized custom designs. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a11H8-u0Bl8/Vbpycwv63bI/AAAAAAAART8/EqzA6pANU4k/s1600/images%2B%25282%2529elk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: black; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a11H8-u0Bl8/Vbpycwv63bI/AAAAAAAART8/EqzA6pANU4k/s1600/images%2B%25282%2529elk.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #ffd966;">My duties include greeting the extra FRIENDLY Elks and the hundreds of Exalted Rulers, Officers, State Deputies and National Officers year after year. I also help them select some of our upscale fine watches, neckware and custom medallions. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><i><span style="color: #fff2cc;">We have an ongoing and large<span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;"> </span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">clientèle</span> </span></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">I have been working the</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">Elk's</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;"> </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffd966; font-size: large;">convention since my retirement which is now TEN YEARS ago. It's fun and gives me at least one annual visit to my homeland. I often greet the same people each year from Elks lodges nationwide - Puerto Rico, Hawaii and beyond! I've made many friends. The Elks, both male and female these years, are a very happy crowd and they do great service work in each of their individual communities, districts and states. Somehow these successful Elks members work together, continue meeting together, build membership together and they HELP OTHERS and HAVE FUN too (and they do, trust me).</span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">One week in Indianapolis and our team finished with a grand and delicious dinner celebration! </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;">Compliments of Dean and Jill Klitzner and company. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9d2e9; font-size: large;">Thank you!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">Onward I traveled to Orlando and I enjoyed a delightful visit, our annual get-together</span></b><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;"> for two decades, after meeting one another originally when </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">Kelsie Reed</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;"> was assigned to the U.S. Embassy/Guatemala City. It was wonderful fun seeing Kelsie, her son Sam (now a handsome young man) and their friend Ernest. Kelsie is a fabulous hostess and I have the same extra-comfy room in her lovely home every year...her enchanting home is located on one of the beautiful drives around one of the tree-lined lakes near downtown Orlando.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">Thank you, Kelsie, you are a joy to be around in every way.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">Kelsie, Sam and Leonardo made several visits to the local </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f3f3f3; font-size: large;">SPCA</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;"> to interview/play with their immediately-to-be-ADOPTED DOGGER. They named him </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #e69138; font-size: large;">Louie</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;"> and he is two year old (mas o menos) happy stray with wonderful manners! All muscle, playful, beautiful and a <i>powerful</i> guardian. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #e06666; font-size: large;">LOUIE/LOUIE is a champ!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">Ten days later I went off for a week in Miami (South Beach) and a <i>comprehensive eye examination</i> by </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">Dr. James Banta</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;"> at world famous Bascom Palmer Eye Institute. My eyes ¨examined¨ very well thanks to earlier surgeries at Vision Integral (Guatemala City/Zona 9 and los </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">Drs. Hernandez</span><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #93c47d;">, don Filipe y don Jorge </span><i><span style="color: red;">saved my left eye</span></i><span style="color: #93c47d;">). My California surgery last year saved my right eye (thanks to my niece, Jennifer Fisher, for finding a wonderful=brilliant=extra-capabable surgeon in </span></span><span style="background-color: black; color: #d9ead3; font-size: large;">Dr. Robert Wendel</span><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"> for me...</span><i><span style="color: red;">fast</span></i><span style="color: #93c47d;">). </span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc; font-size: large;">A special thanks to Elizabeth Bell for her Southernmost hospitality and friendship.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #b4a7d6; font-size: large;">Now I return you to my regularly scheduled reminiscing aka ¨The Otherside of the Volcano¨...it's amazing (really) that I am still alive, about to be 72 years old and living so fully, happily and I enjoy most days that are filled with delight and adventure at the foot of the Volcan de Fuego, Sacatepequez, Guatemala! </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">Gracias a Dios and to all of you. I send you my love.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">Pray for rain (or do a little rain dance in our honor)!</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: lime; font-size: large;">IT JUST STARTED RAINING! THANK YOU</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><i style="background-color: black;">to be continued</i></span></b></div>
Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-37377688984205814072015-06-09T19:43:00.001-06:002015-06-10T20:30:19.900-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part Thirteen: ¨...throughout my lifetime, I have loved both ¨straight¨ and ¨gay¨ friends...I mix socially and integrate well emotionally.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: black;"><img alt="Greetings From San Jose, California" src="http://static.greatbigcanvas.com/images/singlecanvas_thick_none/corbis/greetings-from-san-jose-california,2146568.jpg?max=540" height="209" width="320" /></span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black;"><i><span style="color: red;">Everywhere I looked there was mostly fun early to mid 1960's</span></i><span style="color: #f4cccc;">. I was full of creative delight being a full-schedule Art Major at San Jose State and I was delighted with my ¨part time¨ job at L. Hart and Son department store, downtown San Jose, main branch. My parents paid for ALL of my college expenses, all of them plus a weekly check would arrive for incidentals. My ¨incidentals¨ were growing into weekly trips to San Francisco, bar bills, clothes, parties and restaurants. I used the extra money earned at Hart's to pay for my ¨entertainment¨ which was a never-ending event. How many young, teen into early twenties, Gay men have their first dating experiences while making new friends and finding their way into learning how ¨to be¨ included in Gay and Heterosexual society? I was lucky, I was given the gift of meeting people who added much to my school, work, social life...IMMEDIATELY! New friends, just like me, seemed to be emerging all around me. Friendships flurished as people ¨came out¨ to one another, sometimes openly and sometimes secretly, but there we were, TOGETHER! A huge new dimension of fellowship layered on in my life. I would later know, throughout my life I have had both ¨straight¨ and ¨gay¨ dear friends. I am mixed socially and emotionally. I like being part of being integrated with everyone...but, it's true, LGBTI people are greatly admired by me. We are quite the brave lot,</span></span><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"> <i>we have positive tenacity and strive to survive ourselves and others</i></span><span style="color: #f4cccc;"> (we </span></span></b><b><span style="background-color: black; color: #f4cccc;">always have).</span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">Immediately I wanted to do a great job working at Hart's. I liked retail. I liked waiting on customers and I was a good salesperson, stock person and make-shift display person too (we set up sales and rearranged/merchandised the floor continously with ¨best sellers¨ or featured ¨new¨ merchandise). The Divisional Mens Merchandise Manager was a seasoned New York/NYC department store executive, Harry Schlisky. He was brilliant stock/sales planner/lead buyer and his wife, Vivian, was a ¨pottery maker¨ who was lovely, funny and a fully active artist. Some of us younger/student coworkers were invited to their home for meals and parties and they were gracious, ¨with it¨ and FUN! The Men's Furnishings Buyer was also a married man who I really liked working with. Nick Marafino was a tall and dashing Italian-American who was loaded with merchandising talent and energy...lot's of wholesome energy. My job was originally working part time in the Mens's Furnishings Department, Fall into Christmas Season 1962. I worked 20+ hours a week and I worked extra hard because I wanted </span><i style="color: #b6d7a8;">management</i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> to keep me on after the Christmas rush. </span><b><i><span style="color: red;">They did</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">. </span></i></b></span><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc;">BUSY/BUSY</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #ffe599;"> it was as Hart's Department Store as it was quite the volume operation and the weekly sales, door busters and moonlight madness, White Sales, Beauty Salon sales, Cosmetic Guest Stylists (Charles of the Ritz, Helena Rubenstein, Elizabeth Arden N.Y. salon representatives) and special openings/etc., were wildly successful in this famous old downtown San Jose department store. We, all of us, sometimes could only keep selling and we didn't have time to replenish the stock. L. Hart and Son gave away S & H Green Stamps too. There were endless lines everywhere. The Giftwrapping department, Green Stamp redemption, downstairs restaurant...the place was a merchants delight. Customers quite literally were backed up and waiting at the doors to enter most mornings. Hart's was the #1 advertiser, always FULL Page Three, in the San Jose Mercury News (a Ritter Newspaper). Customers raced accross the Main Floor after the BELL rang! Then, down the central staircase to the Home Furnishings, Gifts and Housewares and/or ¨Budget¨ Departments and U.S. Post Office branch or over to the bank of elevators that would take them up/down all three floors (and to a walk-up 3rd floor mezzanine too). The place was like New York department stores on Herald Square...Macy's and Gimbels, but smaller.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #cfe2f3;">Mr. Alex Hart</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8;">, grandson of founder, Leopold Hart, was President of L. Hart and Sons. He was a dignified, attractive and generous man. He was our leader, a civic leader, we loved him and I think everyone did. He had many good and innovative merchandise ideas regularly. I learned, I experimented and our sales went sky-high...profits too. Mr. Hart was a teacher to the young assistant buyers and held a weekly class in his stunning office (framed/signed and <i>very</i> personally dedicated photos from the </span><span style="background-color: black; color: lime;">STARS</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8;"> and a Zebra print sofa too)! I was dazzled. He took us every week to the Garden City Hofbrau for lunch after our training session..delicious and just accross Market street.</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8;"> A.J. Hart II was one of the children of several generations of HART notable citizens who were admired for their hard work and generous donations as they helped build the thriving community of San Jose, Santa Clara county. Hart's was the biggest (and highest volumne) department store between San Francisco and Los Angeles!</span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c;">Mr. Harts brother, </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc;">Brooke Hart</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #f9cb9c;">, had been the victim of murderous kidnappers years earlier in 1933 and I don't think Alex Hart ever recovered from the loss of his much loved brother. Workers and clients at Hart's Department Store rarely spoke about the tragedy...never openly. He mentioned it once to me. Some of the longtime Retail Clerks Union employees I worked with shared the events of 1933 with me...Brooke and Alex Hart and their sisters were loved by all and the community reacted passionately. </span><br />
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<a href="http://leonardoricardosanto.blogspot.com/2010/08/alex-hart-he-was-philanthropist.html" style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: lime;">http://leonardoricardosanto.blogspot.com/2010/08/alex-hart-he-was-philanthropist.html</span></a><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;" /><b><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">Within a few years I became first an ¨Executive Trainee/Mens Division¨ and later became </span><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">Buyer</span><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;"> of Stationery/Greeting Cards and Gifts at </span><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">Hart´s</span><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;"> while still attending Art School. Mr. Hart, became a friend. On ¨off duty¨ hours he became </span><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">¨Alex¨</span><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;"> during the many elegant and fun dinner parties he hosted at his home off the Alameda and then the Rose Garden, San Jose. Delicious moments in my young life where excellent food, beautiful table settings, cocktails before dinner and singing at the Grand Piano afterward were featured treats. I became civilized (mostly) when dining at the home of Alex Hart. Alex was a very well known person-famous-celebrity and a </span><span style="color: #b4a7d6; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">gracious host too in Northern California. Alex </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;"><span style="color: #b4a7d6;">often had very famous guests, from retail world giants and famous movie </span><span style="color: lime;">STARS</span><span style="color: #b4a7d6;"> and others as his weekend guests. Important film executives and other well-known professionals and politicos visited his home for parties. Sometimes I would be included too.</span></span></b><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;" /><b><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;"><span style="color: #ffe599;">I was often among several young people who were gifted with kind and welcoming invitation to his home for spectacular, large and small, social events that were way beyond-my-young-imagination (and everyday dreams of splendid/elegant living reality that included artwork by Picasso and other famosos and his home decorated by Hollywoods most famous <i>interior designer</i> to the </span><span style="color: lime;">STARS</span><span style="color: #ffe599;">). </span></span><span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">I learned my very <i>extra </i>best manners, sense of style, merchandising savvy and the general way ¨to be¨ in my adultlife from Alex J. Hart. </span><span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">Today, again today I´m deeply touched and grateful because of the many kind and helpful words, acts and general ¨marketing¨ direction that</span><span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;"> Alex Hart offered to me</span><span style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">. I remember well. </span></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ffe599;"><b><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;" /></b></span><b><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">Later in my retail progression, about two years after I moved away from </span><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">San Jose and Hart´s</span><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">, Mr. Hart discreetly supported my ongoing retail career by offering a unsolicited personal reference that resulted in me securing a very prestiges, BIG JOB at another Department Store in another city. As it turned out, </span><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">Alex Hart </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;"><span style="color: #c27ba0;">was a very close friend/business acquaintance with the President of a chain of very fine/high-end fashion department stores,</span><span style="color: yellow;"> GOLDWATER'S/ARIZONA</span><span style="color: #c27ba0;"> (Associated Dry Goods) where I had been presented as a candidate for buyer. I got the job, it was a very ¨big¨ opportunity for me. I´ve never forgotten the many kind deeds of </span></span><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">Alex Hart</span><span style="color: #c27ba0; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;">.</span></b></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #f3f3f3;">San Jose, California was/is a wonder of a place:</span></b><a href="http://geography.howstuffworks.com/united-states/geography-of-san-jose.htm"> <span style="color: yellow;">http://geography.howstuffworks.com/united-states/geography-of-san-jose.htm</span></a><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="color: cyan; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20.8000011444092px;"><i><b>to be continued</b></i></span></span><br />
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6795165206797872713.post-25182537376130027582015-05-25T11:57:00.000-06:002015-06-09T20:31:18.396-06:00THE OTHERSIDE OF THE VOLCANO - Part Twelve: I learned from others. I learned through my personal experiences. I learned how to capitalize on my own authenticity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">In the early 1960´s when participating in San Francisco nightclub nightlife it was quite an adventure for someone, me, who was </span><b><i><span style="color: red;">not</span> </i></b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">legally old enough to drink. Gay Bars in San Francisco were mainly ¨protected¨ from the California State Department of ¨Equalization¨ or the local ¨Vice Squad¨ . They didn´t bother the larger Gay bars nor clients (much/mostly). I remember the candidates for city office of San Francisco would come into the bars (with uniformed police escorts) and campaign during election times. </span><span style="color: #f6b26b;">I liked that.</span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> </span></span><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"> </span></span><br />
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<b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: large;">My favorite bar was The Rondezvous on Sutter street. Upstairs/over a interior design firm. The Rondezvous was filled with hundreds of underage/undergraduate college students from the Universities in the San Francisco/San Jose Bay area. There was always an older </span><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">¨friendly¨</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #ea9999;"> doorman who checked ID´s (and he chose acceptable clients) but he didn´t check our ID´s...</span><span style="color: #93c47d;"><i>ever</i>.</span></span><span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: large;"> Weekends (and sometimes during the week) were endless college parties. Whopping fun Springlike vacations and many of us became close friends as we met in ¨The City¨. We often met for dinner and/or brunch at Gay Restaurants like ¨Jacksons¨or ¨Gordons¨ (older men purchased drinks for us at Gordons) and we went to many parties before ¨going out¨ to the bars...we had after hours parties too. </span></b><br />
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<b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">We, our group from San Jose State, became a larger group of friends after we encountered one another, </span><span style="color: #8e7cc3; font-size: large;">SURPRISE</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">, </span><span style="color: #d9ead3;">¨I didn´t know you were Gay¨</span><span style="color: #8e7cc3;">! We became pals with students from Stanford, University of San Francisco, University of Santa Clara, California at Berkeley and San Francisco State too. Our own Intercollegiat dating games began and they went on for all of our College years. </span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: cyan;">Many of us became close friends for life and our extended Gay family ¨friendships¨ grew up around those friends who gathered under the center chandelier at the Rondezvous. I still celebrate some of those friendships today and those ¨first¨ Gay brothers became the solid foundation for a life, not a lifestyle, that would extend up to this day as I write this. </span><i><span style="color: #ead1dc;">I love my brothers both now and before now.</span></i></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #ffe599;">I extra appreciate my early exposure to Gay life in San Francisco because there had never been any clear understanding for me (or anyone else) of ¨how¨ it would be to live and survive (myself and others) as a ¨Gay¨ person in a still non-inclusive (mostly) culture. I discovered how to live a productive life. I discovered how </span><span style="color: white;">¨to be¨</span><span style="color: #ffe599;"> exactly who I was/am (almost) in the dimension quite apart from the heterosexual majority. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;">I learned from others. I learned through my personal experiences how to capitalize on my own authenticity and personal talent as I shared </span><span style="background-color: black; color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">¨secrets¨</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #93c47d; font-size: large;"> with other Gay young men who intended to LIVE and not be denied their part at all levels of everyday life. We would survive until the ¨Gay Cancer¨ took many of our friends and loved ones in our mid 30´s into 40´s. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: #f6b26b; font-size: large;">AIDS</span><span style="background-color: black; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: large;"> became a deadly dread as we faced it, campaigned to raise funds/awareness to stop it, became of service to oneanother along with the support of our beloved ¨straight¨ friends and families. We would love one another, mourn one another and some of us would survive the tragic time and tell you what it was like and who we loved and lost to AIDS.</span><br />
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<i><b><span style="background-color: black; color: red;">I am jumping ahead in my story again.</span></b></i><br />
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<span style="background-color: black; color: yellow;">to be continued</span></div>
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Leonardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16667415590825321701noreply@blogger.com1