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, debug and, generally speaking, coddle it so that it doesn’t freeeeeeeeeeeeeee…ze on me too often.
These days I am quite taken up with some work in which some associates and yours truly have been involved for the better part of 12 years. Amazing we could go on this long, huh? It seems it is coming to a finalization in the next few days and this does nothing if not generate tons of paperwork but all to a happy ending, God willing.
Where was I when we were last speaking? Just getting started with my Puerto Rico experience, right? Well, it was an all ’round experience. 1964, eighteen glorious years old, lots of hair (well, I do have to state somewhere that my current status was not always so!!) and another yet new world to explore. Obviously, my father was doing all he could to make our encounter an easy one to handle for both of us. I have to admit he was very good at it; an easy going person with lots of patience and, really, this was a true learning experience for me. My newly met stepmother was also a jewel, and this is said in the real sense of the word, not in a sarcastic mode. She had been, and still sometimes functioned as, a commercial model. A very attractive redhead; remember that then was the time of Lucille Ball and many women wore henna red on top of their heads, whether it fit them or not. In Laura’s case, it definitely fit. Very light skin and huge emerald green eyes. The red hair just made her presence known. She was also explosive (as was her deep throated laugh), very emotional and loving. Her daughter, our new step sister Laurita, although a very intelligent and not unattractive young lady, had some issues. I believe she felt overshadowed by her mom’s strong physical presence and was along the way into developing a strong insecurity feeling about herself as a growing woman. My brother Fernando was then a child of about 4 years old. I think he got the best of both parents. Good looking guy (though now that he’s getting older, I’m not so sure…) caring and fairly emotional. Also very creative and carrying his mother’s green eyes. I always remember a photo of him in a military school uniform at graduation time… nice cut, even for grade school!
This was the world into which my sister and I came. A somewhat crazy world which was fine with me. My father had been in the world of communication arts most of his life: radio and television. First in Cuba, then in New York City and, finally, in Puerto Rico. There is a saying in Spanish which reads: “Lo que se hereda, no se hurta”. This, loosely translated, means “what is yours by birth right, is not stolen”. I found out about my father’s lifelong communications love affair when I met him in Puerto Rico. Yet, when I was 13-14 years old in Cuba and following the closure of my school, radio eventually became my outlet.
Some friends and I started a teen radio show in a small town (Cruces, for those of you who are from Cuba) which met with a lot of success and, by the time I left the country, we were on the air 7 days, including 3 hours each on Saturday and Sunday mornings. More on this some other time; for now, suffice it to say that the genes came directly from my pater for, much to my mother’s and grandfather’s chagrin, I have loved radio since early childhood and obviously without any direct influence from him. When we met in Puerto Rico, he was just starting a TV show loosely based on the then well known Johnny Carson's Tonight Show. This gave us a strong common ground, and gave me the opportunity to work with him, in an area that was really enjoyable for me, and it became a school of sorts. This particular show was not of long life; however, the following show he put together, a game show, was more successful and he did well with it for a couple of seasons.
But, back to the University. A group of students had come in from Stateside that year and we sort of drifted together at the beginning of the school year. Most did not speak Spanish, and this gave me an advantage over them. Not that it meant much, except that because of this I was quickly able to expand my circle of friends to include many classmates from PR and several Cubans whom I met in the first few weeks. What we did accomplish, however, was the structuring of the school assembly into a coherent “mob” rather than an anarchic one. Since we had all come from high schools and/or universities where there were student body committees and student-teacher groups we had some experience in the matter and worked with the student dean, who did not.
-“Oye muchacho, ven acá que te quiero presentar a alguien” I heard Laura say to me at a modeling function. “Come here, I want you to meet someone”. That being said, she introduced me to another model, Lynnette. She was 16 years old then, but quite a bit older looking (you know, model and all that) and little by little we became an item. She was very pretty and also intelligent and ‘Cariñosa” which is somewhere east of “loving”. What was I doing at this function, you ask? I was modeling. I had started doing this thanks to Laura’s insistence and was doing OK, including TV commercials and also clothing lines. I told you… we were good looking at some point… tsk, tsk… Lynnette and I remained together for the better part of 8 months and when we parted, it was amicably. The difference in ages was not much and perhaps if we had met two years later, it may have been very different. Her being 16 really limited what she could do and what we could share (don’t be nasty, not that!). She was a junior in HS and I was now a big college guy. No comments, please.
My memories of that first year in PR are somewhat mixed and matched. There were so many things happening at so many levels that at times it wasn’t clear where my head was. I think that my father’s attitude (trying to be non-confrontational) of not saying to me “don’t make this choice, it is not good for you” did not bring about the results he meant to have.
My first full time job in PR was as a door to door magazine salesman. I have not stopped selling since then, and love it. There aren’t too many things that haven’t been “in my sales bag” at one time or another. Magazines, cars, appliances, radio time, home alarms, different types of insurance but never, ever, snake oil. Eventually, life insurance became my life’s work and I truly came to understand and love the product and its sales process.
Well, ‘nuff for now. I will do my best to continue tomorrow.
Be well!!
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