MindWindow

Spring and summer of 65 was a good stretch of time. Actually, the time spent in PR was a good time. My father did well for a while in his life long love, which is TV, and this sprung a number of possibilities for me. This is a concentrated effort to get back on track; you know… a promise made and all that. So here it goes... Puerto Rico has the nickname of "La Isla del Encanto" - "The Island of Enchantment" and indeed it is and has everything needed to earn that name. A beautiful speck of land in the outer Caribbean, almost out into the Atlantic Ocean. It has all that you would expect from a Caribbean island... beautiful beaches, music, local drink(s), great people, night life everywhere and great vacation spots. Also, in PR's case, it has had to historically contend with a double personality for many generations. It is a simple culture clash: the people and heritage are totally Hispanic and the economic and legal culture is totally USA. Although it may sou...

As often happens, what is originally the intent gets sidetracked and something entirely different comes out. Anyway, here goes. During the holidays is really difficult to maintain a normal routine, no matter how hard one may try. We have family visitors and it is great, since part of the company is an eight year old “step-grandson” whom I had not seen for some two years. It is fascinating to realize that the growth is not only on the physical plane, but also in the maturity and mental plane. Since I saw him last, he has of course grown about 4-6 inches but has also begun to paint, draw and play the guitar. We can all do this, right? Well, his paintings have been shown at special exhibitions –by invitation, mind you- and he has won several prizes, selling at least one of his paintings for a nice sum. Not bad for a 7/8 year old (just turned 8 about 2 weeks ago). And yes, he has played solo guitar at a couple of school recitals. Not bad, huh? These last few days have given me a chance to ...

On several occasions the comments made in this space about Christmas have not been the most positive. But they have also been very biased due to adverse circumstances. Yet, when this particular day of the year rolls around, the overall feeling is one of peace; this helps to leave out the rancor, the disappointments and any feelings which might bring about negative thoughts. It is the day in which we commemorate the birth of the One who came to die for our salvation and to help guide us through this life and beyond. It really does not make much difference what religion you may follow and practice. If you are a professed Christian, his birth is what you will celebrate with all the joy and love your heart can muster. But, what if you are not? Does it make a great difference? Most religions I have come to know along the way will teach you that there is but One who is above all others, and most –if not all religions- will teach and preach about love, understanding and respect towards you...

There could be many more postcards from places like Calle Casales written; in fact, there is much more about Calle Casales but this is enough for now. It was a learning experience in many ways and, perhaps, some of it was wasted on a 14 year old who could not understand some of the details and nuisances. THE END. There were many interesting days at the factory. Not only the street people I met and befriended, but also those who worked there. They were, for the most part, second and third generation workers. They knew our families and our families knew them, making for the relationship between workers and employers an easy going one. The conditions were not bad; salaries were paid every Friday and the moneys earned, even by bottle washers, were more than enough to feed the family and pay the rent; no cell phone contracts or internet fees in those days. Listening to the radio, drinking a beer, holding a conversation and reading books were still the things to do. While working at the ...

Some people come into a life and leave a light mark; others, by virtue of circumstance, become a fixture in that life they happen to touch, albeit a brief touch. Pata was one such guy. By virtue of who and what he was and then, what he became, he left a mark in my life. To me, this mark has been helpful; I am not sure the circumstances or reasons this mark was left in my life, were all that good for him. PAT’E PLANCHA (liberal translation: He who walks on a foot like an iron… big, flat and wide). “Rafelito, dale un trago a Pata” – “Hey, Rafa, give Pata a drink”. Part of my “job” was to dispense the free drinks every day. These were given out to dock workers who, every time a supply truck would arrive, would come to the back dock and unload the truck, usually for free. Most preferred to be paid in “kind”. Translation: a free drink a couple of times a day. One drink in the morning on their way to the docks and one in the afternoon to get warmed up for the bar, or for the way home. ...

In thinking back to all the people I met in those six short months I worked at the factory, it seems that much life learning was compressed into that span of time. These were people that would have never crossed my path in my other life; that relatively protected one which I had lived for almost 14 years. Me thinks that my lot in life would have been much less had I not spent that time at Calle Casales. I will be back to my Puerto Rico years; my head is getting on in that direction; yet, there are at least 2 or perhaps 3 other significant short stories from that time. They might be interesting to you. Back now to finish the time I call "Rosie's Time". Under her wing I met many people who lived in the area and were part of “her” world, as she referred to it. Some of these were true characters and some actually worked at the factory, I just had never seen them under this personal light before. We had many conversations as time went on, but these had to be done without my fa...

Working, walking and meeting people in this neighborhood, on a daily basis, gave me an early opportunity to learn about aspects of life in my city which were totally foreign to me. It truly was an eye opener. As I stood before the factory doors, it was like a homecoming of sorts. Many memories came flooding into my head of those times past when, as a small child, I roamed the walls and halls within. -“Dios Mio muchacho, que te dieron de comer en este tiempo?” -“My God, what in the world did they feed you these past years? said one of the old faces, behind a huge Zapata like moustache. He was Pollux (last and only name to which he answered) a third generation worker and the guy who basically ran the production floor. After a big hug he took me around to the back warehouse. -“Oye Juanito, mira a ver si te atreves a hacerle cosquillas ahora… A que no?” --“Hey Juanito, I bet you don’t dare tickle him now, huh?” Everyone laughed at the comment and they all, as one, came forward to gre...

Every city has its secrets, its dark spots. Yet, when one looks closely at these spots, they may become the more telling and colorful stories in the city. This is one of those stories about one of those areas in my hometown. It may take two or three posts, but I think it is cool. Cienfuegos, Cuba. 1960 or thereabouts. Ever since I had been a small child, the name “Calle Casales”(Casales Street) had a sub-world connotation in my hometown. This was a street that ran about 2 blocks south of Parque Marti, the main plaza in my hometown. It was in the midst of the oldest area in town, where most of the streets end, on the one side, near the cargo piers and going up to the other side of a thick peninsula like piece of land, these few streets would die (so to speak) near the navy facilities, called “Cayo Loco” (Crazy Key). I lived only two blocks away from Casales and my actual getting acquainted with this (in)famous street came about due to the closing of the school where I went most of m...

Today it became a goal to finish the entry started yesterday. These last few days it has been a little crazy, but I do not want to lose the habit of writing a bit every day. I have started a new "prequel" since the one about my uncle was well received. This one may take a little longer to write and will also be worth 2, maybe three entries but it is special. Thank you for your positive comments. It has been difficult to get to the computer. Well, actually not to the computer since I spend a good deal of my working day (and evening) at this blessed or bloody machine; which appellation is to be used depends on how the day is going, and how fast it responds to my commands. Lately it has been fairly slow... Poor thing, in the life span reckoning of computerworld, it is going on about 150 years of age. Soon I will replace it with a brand new, space age gizmo and then I will have to learn all over again how to use it. In the meantime, I shall continue to baby, clean, defrag, de-add...

The first hello to a father I did not know; the first impression; the first arrival at the house; the first meeting with a new stepmother; the first day at the new university. Too many firsts in too short a time. But then, it wasn't the first time. It was an arrival. Laura, my step-mother to be, happened to be outside when the car came into the driveway. First, she looked at me and the expression on her face was sort of a “and now, who is he bringing home for lunch without letting me know?” Then, she looked again and, as she put it afterwards, the angle of my face was just like that of a picture they had, and there was a big smile of recognition, followed by an out and out laugh. I would come to know that full throated laugh over the time I was there; it was part of her personality. -“Dios mio!!” she exclaimed, -“Pero si eres tú muchacho!!!”… -“Oh My God!!!” “It’s you my boy!!” she practically yelled. It took me a while, but I eventually became re-accustomed to the normal level...

This entry was actually started yesterday. As I sat and wrote, the slow realization that this blog is becoming a "bio" of sorts, comes into mind. That being said, it makes it more difficult to choose what to include and what not. I will continue on; let's see where this will take us all. EH GADS!!! “How hot is it here? I asked my father while we hugged, by way of a greeting. I had recognized him from some photos I had received some time ago. He just smiled and said –“well, these are the tropics, you know… and the cooler season is still a couple of months away”. Incredible how in two short years, the body changed and adapted to a totally different climate environment. After all, just two years before I had come from a similar Caribbean island. When the plane’s passenger door had been opened (still had to go down the steps on to the tarmac before going into the terminal then) and I put my head out into the morning sun, it felt like someone had thrown a very hot, very wet...

He was a true character; I would meet others in my daily life and probably will put them, at some time, in these renderings; they were equally or, perhaps, even more interesting. Or maybe they may have appear so because I spent more time with them. But, none of them was my uncle; He was. Then, the moment he laughed, I knew; it was like a knowing flash. That laughter, coupled with the eyes. He had to be on my grandmother’s side of the family, a cousin, someone related and who had fallen on hard times. -“You are a relative of the Peñas, aren’t you?” I said, more than asked. I knew I was right. Still with a twinkle in his eyes, he said to me: -“I’m the best kept secret in this family, my boy”. –“I am your great uncle Eusebio and, also, what is known as the black sheep of the family”. At this moment, one of the most fascinating summers of my life began to unfold. As it turned out, my grandfather had given his blessing to have him come in to the house when he was in town and make hi...