On Media in Iraq

Thanks to Michele for finding this unbelievable article on an ABC reporter's findings in Iraq.

In a nutshell, the reporter, in her altruistic concern for Iraqi children losing their lives because of scattered left-over ordnance, has them play and pose on said ordnance to accentuate her story.

In the Name of Allah

If you're a muslim father and your daughter has become a little too westernized what do you do? You hack your daughter to death of course. That's a no-brainer.

The Other Fish, Part II

I haven't mentioned that the Florida Marlins clinched the wild card spot and are in the playoffs because I dont want to jinx them, so I won't.

The Most Daunting Of Tasks

A very good friend of mine called me the other day, his voice on the phone not his usual joyous tone. He sounded terrible, stuffed up, and spoke slowly and deliberately, taking deep breaths almost before every other word. I knew immediately why he sounded the way he did.

"How's your dad, dude?" I was almost afraid to hear his response.

"Val," his voice trailed off and I knew he was composing himself to continue.

His dad had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few months ago. No cure, no chance for any medical breakthough to keep his old man with him just a little longer. I thought it was the call I'd been dreading, the call to tell me his dad had passed.

"Dude," he tells me. "It's not good...Complications." He goes on to tell me about a procedure they'd done on his dad and how while during the surgery they had uncovered yet another byproduct of the disease. One which, no matter what, was not only unstoppable but further exacerbated his condition.

"Doctor says a week. Maybe two, tops."

My heart lumped in my throat. I wished, at that very moment, I hadnt answered the phone. I wished I were someone else or so far away that no one could ever reach me. I fought the tears back and begged my mind and heart for words, but none came.

"Dude. I am so sorry man. So sorry. I can't even begin to find the words." What do you say to someone in that situation? Nothing I could possibly say would help ease his pain. I could hear him fighting back the emotions over the phone.

"Dude," I tell him, "if theres anything I can do, anything, just say..."

"I know Val," he sighed. "There is actually something that, it's gonna sound a little weird but..."

"Dude, whatever you need from me man. Whatever."

"Well," he took a deep breath, "Like I said, it's gonna sound a little weird but, I.. I just don't think I can do it. I mean, I know what I want to say but I'm not good with words and... I know this will sound fucking strange but, can you help me write his obituary?"

I didn't know what to say again.

"If it's too much to ask," he was almost apologetic. "Don't worry about it, man. I can have ..."

"No no, man. It isnt too much to ask. I just don't know if something I can write will do justice to you father man. You know? I mean, it's your old man, dude. I can help you write it but I don't think I can possibly say about him what needs to be said."

"I really would never put this burden on you Val, but I just..." He trailed off again. I knew he was crying. "I just can't do it Val. I can't."

"Dude, no problem, man. I'll help you write as much as you want. But you will need to tell me what you want to say. I know your dad is an awesome dad but...you need to write it and I will help you put it into words befitting him."

"I have started to write some stuff," he said. "I'll finish adding everything and I'll email it to you.."

"Ok. When I get the email and have read it I'll call you."

I recieved the email this morning, read it, cried, picked up the phone and almost called my buddy to tell him that I couldn't do it. In my mind I was thinking I would tell him that it was perfect. That it said what needed to be said.

But it didn't. I know his dad. I know the kind of man he is. I know the kind of friend my buddy has been and, I know what he wanted to say about his dad.

So I helped him write his dad's obituary, and it's the hardest thing to write I have ever written.

Baseball

I grew up watching baseball because it was my grandfather's game. He loved it, knew every subtle nuance about it. When I was a just a little recently arrived Cubanito, my grandfather started taking me to the Orioles spring training games. Needless to say I was hooked. There is nothing like being at a ballpark to watch your favorite team play. The anticipation, the gammut emotions. Even hot dogs and soda's seem to taste better at a ballpark

My parents however, were never very much into keeping up with sports. That is, until the '97 Marlins won the World Series. They've been die-hard fans ever since that wonderful miraculous season. Saturday, my youngest niece had a couple of extra tickets to the game and took them. It was the Mets-Marlins game and my parents first time ever in a stadium. Imagine that, both of them in their 70's and never having been to a big league game.

Even though the Mets went on to win, the parents had a great time. I think it was a beautiful gesture on my nieces part and I think, no, I know, my grandfather was watching that game, with his daughter in the stands with her husband of 50 years, and his great-granddaughter there next to them. How happy that must have made my grandfather. And I can imagine my mom sitting there at the park, with the glorious beauty of the basbeball field there in front of her, remembering her father and his undying love for the game. And I am sure they were all rooting for what would have been, if Abuelo were still with us, his team.

126 Blogs, 101 Trackback Pings, and Over 140 Individual Posts

Where? At Blogdom's best. The Cul-de-Sac.

The Castro Clone

Why is having Castro in still in power in our neck of the woods such a problem? Cloning.
Castro's new protege is learning right quick folks. Right quick. And from the master himself.

Somethin' Happenin' at Sgt. Hooks

Sgt. Hook has once again gone above and beyond. Please give hime a visit and Read. This. Post. You will be all the better for it.

More on Independent Libraries

I've said before that we as Americans take alot of things for granted sometimes. If you need eggs, you can buy a dozen easily, usually from a Kwik Mart a block or so away. Need new shoes? Not a problem, a quick trip to the Payless and you are set.

Visit any library and you will not only find the works of Walt Whitman and Twain but you can also pick up the Communist Manifesto, Mao, the works of Marx. There's nothing stopping you from reading anything, anything, you want.

Cuba supposedly has an incredible literacy rate thanks to the Revolution. But, as I've also stated before, what good is knowing how to read if you can't read whatever you want? If you are allowed to read only what's within the confines of an ideology?

There are some in Cuba that realized this and set up independent lending libraries where anyone could borrow anything from a small selection of books deemed by the government to be subversive. These books aren't all reference books, but also fictions and novels by the masters. Imagine not being allowed to read Leaves of Grass or Tom Sawyer or the Huck Finn.

Sadly, the Cuban government is cracking down on the lending libraries, and closing them one by one. Can't afford to have a learned populace if you are Fidel.

HAVANA, September 24 (www.cubanet.org) - The Cuban political police searched the home of dissident Lorenzo García in Holguín Tuesday, confiscating more than 250 books from an independent lending library García operated there.

After finishing the search, police left a watch in front of the building where García lives. The dissident said they follow him everywhere, even to church.

The Ultimate Irony

Here's a "Nov. 6, 1940, letter to President Franklin D. Roosevelt from a 14-year-old admirer in Oriente Province, Cuba. In slightly fractured English, the author makes a simple request."

"If you like, give me a ten dollars bill green american . . . because never I have not seen a ten dollars bill green american and I would like to have one of them. . . . Thank you very much. Good by. Your friend. Fidel Castro."

Perhaps if FDR had actually sent that kid a sawbuck, the past 40 years would have been completely different for so many.

The letter goes on to say:

My Address is:
Sr. Fidel castro
Colegio de Dolores
Santiago de Cuba
Oriente, Cuba
I dont know very English but I know very much Spanish and I suppose you don't know very Spanish but you know very English because you are American but I am not American...
If you want iron to make your ships I will show to you the bigest(sic) (minas) of iron of the land. They are in Mayari, Oriente, Cuba.

Courtesy of U.S News and World Report

The Other Fish

I haven't mentioned anything about the Florida Marlins because I havent wanted to jinx their playoff run, so I won't.

A Fight Worth Fighting

This is the best thing to come out of the blogosphere yet:

Time for Bloggers to Fight a Front in the Real War

I, too, am fed completely up with all the negative coverage of the situation in Iraq. Time to fight back.

I'm in. Are you?

There's a New Kid in Town...

Fidel's got a new baby.....

I would not even begin to try to caption this.

The Egg Situation

The egg situation in Cuba is more serious than first thought. Apparently, no one wants to pay 15 cents per egg out of their $10 a month income.

"People are upset about the rise in prices. Especially when the government says that the economy is recovering and that our province has been declared one of the foremost egg producers in the country. We still can't afford to fry an egg, since in addition to the egg, we have to buy the oil to fry it at the dollar stores, and also buy the fuel oil, charcoal, or wood, to cook it," said Bernardo Díaz, from Ciego de Ávila.

I wonder, do the free continental breakfasts the tourists get come with scrambled eggs or eggs over easy?

HAVANA, September 22 (www.cubanet.org) - A new government measure set the price of eggs imported from the U. S. at two pesos each throughout the island, provoking grumbling in the provinces, where eggs usually sold for less than in Havana.

The measure only pertains to the eggs sold outside the government rationing system, which allows consumers to buy eight eggs in Havana and six in the provinces, per person per months, at 15 cents each. Consumers often complain that there aren't enough eggs to supply the quota minimums.

Recently, a radio station in Ciego de Ávila, Radio Surco, dedicated a 20-minute segment to the egg problem, in an apparent effort to allay the population's unhappines. The program, which also aired calls from neighboring provinces Sancti Spíritus, Camagüey and Villa Clara, took in the complaints of the callers, but in the end, concluded that the measure was an order and that it had to be carried out.

"People are upset about the rise in prices. Especially when the government says that the economy is recovering and that our province has been declared one of the foremost egg producers in the country. We still can't afford to fry an egg, since in addition to the egg, we have to buy the oil to fry it at the dollar stores, and also buy the fuel oil, charcoal, or wood, to cook it," said Bernardo Díaz, from Ciego de Ávila.

Eggs are one of the few sources of protein available to Cubans.

Suddenly, Fiction

My esteemed colleague David of Sketches of Strain and I will be hosting our first blogger short fiction anthology: Sudden Fiction: Short Stories by Bloggers. The publishing date will be Halloween and deadline for submissions will be October 20th.

Make the stories scary, mushy, erotic. . .whatever, just email them on in to either David or me as an attachment in Word format, 5000 words or less.

valcuba{at}hotmail{dot}com or tanka530{at}hotmail{dot}com

Come on now fellow bloggers, we know you guys can write, but can you bullshit?

Cuba Wants a War

I was going to fisk this article:Cuba in the Sights of teh United States from Granma International, but, it is so full of shit, written hocus-pocus and all out lefty paranoia and hyperbole that, well, it would be a complete waste of time.

Here's a great quote to show what I mean:

The Estefan clan (Gloria and Emilio) have big plans. They are Bacardi shareholders and thus financiers of terrorist acts in Nicaragua, Angola and Cuba and accomplices to stealing Cuban patents. Gloria and Emilio Estefan sponsor other para-terrorist organizations such as Brothers to the Rescue whose aircraft have been violating Cuban airspace for years.

So ridiculous it's actually sad.

Terrorism Timeline

Greyhawk has an excellent post depicting the "coming of age" of terrorism and the reciprocal actions from various administrations. It is definitely mandatory reading for all.

Sgt Hook Does It Again

What can I say, Hook is awesome.

Toys

Chief Wiggles is calling upon us all to help him out. The children of Iraq essentially have no childhood, living a life of necessity and want. This is perhaps the worse crime against humanity: to not let a child be a child. To play, imagine, laugh and lose themselves in that place kids go to when they are talking to their teddy bears or pushing their Tonka truck along. The Chief wants us to help him change that by sending these kids toys.

I'm in. You should be too.

(via Dean's World)

D-O-L-P-H-I-N-S

One of the things I love most about football are the rivalries. You can have 2 or 3 friends over for a game, downing a few brewskies, the grill on and full of munchies, and each person still have a different favorite team. Rick, one of my all time best friends is an avid J-E-T-S fan and, while we trade puns and barbs and criticize each others team with incredible zeal, we are, still, best friends. We know we are there for each other in the clutch. Rick and I always make a bet at the beginning of the year: Whomever's team has the better record or makes it farther along in the playoffs, wins. The ante? Loser pays for the Super Bowl Party.

I recently learned that our esteemed Sgt. Hook is also a J-E-T-S fan. But, like my buddy Rick, regardless of the warped football afilliation he may have, I truly truly like and admire the guy. From his writings I can easily conclude that Sgt. Hook is a man you can count on in the clutch. A true gentleman and a man of honor.

Hook and I also made a small football Jets/Dolphins wager and well, the results and pay-out can be found here.

Property Ownership

The Cuban Government, in a bold, "revolutionary" move has begun to allow property "ownership" in Cuba. Owning property in was not possible as all property was nationalized back in the sixties.

So, basically, those whose homes or businesses were taken away almost 40 years ago are screwed as now, the captive squatters remaining on the island can simply register a deed for whatever parcel and *poof* become landowners.

HAVANA, September 18 (www.cubanet.org) - The government called for all home owners to start registering their homes in a new registry of deeds, according to an announcement in the official dailies.

Until the revolution in 1959, there were 82 registries across the island. Now, 137 have been established, the government said, and the plan calls for having one office per municipality by 2006.

Run Ricky Run

The Ricky Williams led Miami Dolphins 17, the "ominous, hottest in the NFL" Drew Bledsoe led Buffalo Bills 7.

Ricky Williams. Ricky Williams. Ricky Williams.

Ricky. Williams.

The Best Part of Mondays Is

Kelley's Cul-de-Sac. Blogdom's very best linkformation.

Sgt. Hook is Back

Sgt. Hook is back and blogging! Go on over to his HQ and welcome him back.

The New Europe on Castro

Kudos to the New Europeans:

Internal opposition is growing in strength; even the police raids in March failed to bring it to its knees. The times are changing, the revolution is ageing with its leaders, the regime is nervous. Castro knows only too well that there will come a day when his revolution will perish with himself.

Three former European presidents prod the bearded one in a letter to the Daily Telegraph.

via the Puppy Eater

Isabel made me sick

Small office, 4 employees. One gets flu on Monday. By Friday, germs have overtaken staff. All are lethargic and wheezing.

Damn. I hate being sick on weekends.

It's all your fault Sheila. I have your flu.

I need veebaporub.

America's Pastime Caption

I submitted this week's photo for the Caption This Thursday contest over at Right We Are. Of course, in keeping with this blogger's main theme and in stereotypical Cuban exile fashion, it's a Fidel bash-a-thon. Get on over there and rake that bearded bastard over the coals a bit.

un leenkaso poetico

"next to of course god america i
love you land of the pigrims' and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country 'tis of centuries come and go
and are no more what of it we should worry
in every language even deafanddumb
thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
iful than these heroic happy dead
who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
they did not stop to think they died instead
then shall the voice of liberty be mute?"

He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water

ee cummings

Cubanism of La Semana

Today's Cubanism is one I've been hearing since I was a little kid. Seems Mom was always saying it to me, yet I didn't really know what it meant until I was older. To wit:

Comiendo lo que pica el pollo.

Literal translation:

Eating what the chicken pecks.

Steely Dan

Just picked up the latest cd "Everything Must Go" by Steely Dan and I must say, it's pretty good. Typical Steely Dan. A little bluesy, a little jazzy, totally catchy. Not bad for a band named after a dildo.

A Cuban Wedding

I just found this picture and thought I'd share it with you. It's a photograph of a painting a buddy did for me for our wedding invitations. I had asked him for a little something and he ended up painting a 3 foot by 3 foot canvas. I love it as our wedding was, of course, a Cuban theme. The artists name is Carlos A. Navarro.

We have a smaller version of the original, framed, that Carlos gave us to use instead of a guest book. Everyone attending the wedding signed it, and, well, it's pretty much one of our prized possessions.

One Omelet, Hold the Eggs

Would you give up ten percent of your monthy income for a dozen eggs? And I'm not talking golden eggs either.

CIEGO DE AVILA, Cuba, Sept. 12 (www.cubanet.org) - Although the ration book entitles everyone to buy five eggs a month, they've become scarce in some parts of Cuba.

Eggs are a staple of the Cuban diet.

La Rotonda

La Kelley has her famous Rotonda of bloggy goodness for the week. How she does it I have no idea, but I'm sure glad she does.

Miami Dolphins 21, Jets 10

Following Bryan's tradition from Gritandole a Letreros, I have a little ditty for all you Jets fans out there, yes, the both of you. And the lyrics go something like this:

Miami has the Dolphins
the greatest football team.
They take the ball
from goal to goal
like no one's ever seen.

Yes we're the
Miami Dolphins
Miami Dolphins
Miami Dolphins
Number one.

Pin-pan-pun

Cot.

In Case You Wanna Know

Where Elian is, here's a clue:

7th and 8th Graders no longer forced to cut sugarcane during school hours.

Heh. Next thing you know, they'll actually be allowed to play.

Remember Elian????

Remember the whole ordeal? The media coverage, the politics, the protests. Remember how some thought the Cuban Community in Miami were a bunch of crazies? The Miami Mafia as Castro named them? Remember how adamently those Cuban-Americans argued?

Well...

We argued not because we don't believe a child belongs with his parents. Ideally, every child should have a loving, nurturing home with a mother and father. No argument there. What we were really arguing so vehemently about is that, in Cuba, the child belongs to the state. The government only "allows" you to raise them. And then, only raise them a certain way and to a certain age.

If you are a dissident, labeled as such because you desire certain freedoms that are basic to the human species, then the Castro regime can and will take your child away. Fidel can't have this "anti-revolutionary" sentiment handed down to the next generation.

Can't believe it? Read on....

Havana, Sept. 11 (www.cubanet.org) - The wife of a jailed opposition member says two state security officials threatened to remove her three months old daughter, born while her husband, Luis Enrique Ferrer Garcia, was in prison.

Ferrer Garcia, a member of the Christian Liberation Movement, was sentenced to 28 years imprisonment in March.

Lovely isn't it?

Freedom of Religion

Much ado about religious freedoms lately with the Moore thing in Alabama and the "monument." Many differing opinions covering the entire spectrum. I am of the school of thought that, as long as someone's religious ideology is not detrimental to me, more power to them. Live and let live as they say.

Since we are free to worship (or not) God in our own way here in the United States, we tend to take it for granted. But imagine living in a place where you weren't free to do so. Such is the case with Cuba.

Christmas was banned in Cuba for decades. It was only the Pope's visit a few years ago that lifted those religious shackles.

Yet, any form of worship in Cuba, other than worshipping el Comandante, is frowned upon, and, in some cases is cause for "encarceration" and detainment.

FROM CUBA
September 12, 2003

Religious march broken up

Havana, Sept. 11 (www.cubanet.org) - A march by 17 dissidents to the shrine of the patron saint of Cuba, the Virgin of Charity, was broken up several miles from the religious site at El Cobre, according to one of the participants.

Juan Carlos Cardenas Isaac, president of the Cuba Civic Movement for Democracy, said the march was stopped at 5:25 a.m. on Sept. 8 by members of the political police and the paramilitary.

"We were shoved, handcuffed and thrown to the ground," he said. "We were taken to a school near the Ambrosio Hospital and later to the police station in El Cobre where we were freed," he said.

He said some tourists took photographs of the incident.

I Am Spent

It has been a rough day. I am emotionally wasted. Today has been a day of grappling with sorrow and unbelievable anger. A constant wrestling match against a tag team. I can't even begin to write anything. Reading all of the accounts and entries and comments about this day from exceptional people such as kelley and sheila and david, among many others, and all of their links and emotions expressed in beautiful words, then trying to blog anything of such subtelty and feeling, for me, would be like dancing at the top's house.

Please, do my blogroll, read them all. I did. And I am a better person for it.

Jumpers

The Showtime network has an excellent show depicting a collection of short films by university students dealing with 9/11. All the films are available on their website.

Perhaps the most moving is the one that accompanies this poem:

From the 104th Floor
by Leda Rodis (age 14)

When the plane hit the building
rocked first
to the right
then
to the left,
and outside all the skyscrapers
of New York
seemed to tremble.

The alarms screamed louder
than we did, and I knew
it was time to get away. It's funny
what you notice:
a pen rolling across the floor
my screen saver flicker and go off
a picture of you
and me
at Coney Island.

So much to leave behind. And yet so little.

Running down the hall I remembered
my mother
taking me to the top
of the Empire
State Building when I was just
a little girl,
telling me that a plane
had crashed there a long
time ago. So I thought that maybe
that's
what happened. Just
an accident. And accidents
happen everyday.

Under the blown-out exit sign
a crowd
is screaming,
crying,
pounding
on the door.
I know:
There's

No
Way
Out.

You have to believe that I tried. I'm not the one
to give up.
Back at my desk, I rescue
the rolling pen,
stare
at the blank screen, and
hold
my picture
of you.
I look out
at the blue morning.
I expect
to see God there.
But what I really see is
another plane.
And I know what it means.
But I don't know why...

I always thought that life was full of choices.
It always has been.
What to wear
Where to eat
Who to love
(and you know who I chose).

Now my choices have been taken away from me.
The men in the planes have narrowed my choices
down
to
two:
Death by fire, or death by fall.

I see the smoke
rising
filling the room
It's hard to breathe

I look towards the open window.
What
would falling feel like?

I remember the roller coaster at Coney Island.

The wind tugging at my hair
How good it felt to scream.
The feeling in my stomach.

And how all the way down

I was with you.

September 11

Two years ago today at 8:46 AM our world changed drastically. I have always thought that as Americans, with the busy lives we live, we tend to have short memories. Michele reminds us that today is a day that, even as busy Americans, it is our duty to remember. To hold as sacred. Take some time today to visit Michele's Voices of 9/11 project. It is truly a labor of love and dedication.

Whatever side of the political spectrum you are on, remember this day.
(link via Serenity's Journal)

Dean has not forgotten either.

Another Benchmark

Everyone's good friend and all around super cool dude is about to strain 10,000 hits. Let's all drop on by and get him closer to 20,000.

This Week's CUBANISM

This week's Cubanism is a tough one. I hope you guys will try your darndest to figure it out:

Bailar en la casa del trompo.

Literally translated:

Dance at the top's house.

Buena suerte folks.

Tennis Anyone?

Babalu is already weighing almost 12 pounds and absolutely loves being outside. Believe it or not, at 11 weeks, he's already fetching and yet still has puppy breath.

Now, let me tell you a little story....

Some of you may remember that I lost my dog Othello back in July. He was a very unique dog. The prototypical Alpha male. Well, the wife and I decided to get a new dog quickly as Katy, Othello's mom and companion, at 16 years old, was depressed at his loss. Along comes Babalu.

Now, everyone remembers the term "Babalu" from Desi Arnaz and the I love Lucy show. What not everyone knows is that "Babalu Aye" is the name of an Afro-Cuban god. To the Orishas, Babalu Aye is St. Lazaro, the cripple on crutches with two dogs at his side. It is said that Babalu Aye died as punishment for his sins, but was later brought back to life by the supreme Orisha being, Olodumare.

Othello had his own character. He would not eat if you were watching him, nor would he do his business afterword if you were watching him. He loved hugs, digging his head into my chest and just hanging out there. He loved my dad. You could never get him away from my father. He also would not let the dog groomer that comes to our house get anywhere near him. He would show his teeth and growl.

Well, Babalu is the exact same way. We took him to dad's house the other day and he was glued to my father. Would not leave his side. He is also the same way about his food and his business. Babalu loves to get hugged just like Othello. To top it off, the groomer came by yesterday and Babalu, for the first time, growled at him.

I think, maybe, theres a little Othello in Babalu. Even though they are completely different breeds, the similarities in characters is eerie. Maybe Othello's not done guarding me yet and he's making sure I am still ok.

Miami Dolphins

The Miami Dolphins lost their season opener at home yesterday to the, I shudder to say, Houston Texans, 21-20. I am pissed. Seems they picked up right were they left off last year.

This little guy is pissed too:

Don't worry Brandon, it's a long season. And any given Sunday.....