Pandora's Other Box

In writing these entries, I have usually kept to places where I have been. In creating one's own memories, a life is slowly but inexorably formed. What happens when the memories written about belong to someone else? After some thinking on this, I decided that although these memories belonged to someone else originally, they were passed on to me as part of my upbringing so in essence, they have become mine and, as such, I accept them and pass them on. Perhaps as a small shrine to the person who allowed me into his memories. Whenever I actually do sit down in front of this old computer and try to concentrate on one issue or one topic or one consecutive set of events to the ones which preceded the writing I am about to try and create, too many images and too many moments come to life in my mind. I really don’t know how many people are following these mental meanderings; I know of at least 10-12 people who tell me they do. In the end, this is mostly written to cleanse my memories. Be...

One of the -I think- too many places where I have spent sometimes "forced" time over the last 12 years. Lisbon is an old heart city; after too many years under a political dictatorship, it just began to crawl into modern urbanity late in the 1980's. The city has a lot of character and it is very traditional, holding on to its customs and culture which is not really a bad thing to do. There are many places I did not get to see or visit, I hope to be back with the time and the resources for a more thorough visit. It is really a worth while place to get to know. My search for this wonderful food oasis started and grew more feverish by the minute. I could not wait to be seated at a table and to order… how would you say rice and black beans in Portuguese? How about ground beef “picadillo”? My, My… they were sure to have pictures on the menu there… I went into circles and noticed that this restaurant, along with several others, was on Neptune Avenue. My hunger was getting st...

Part One... part Two tomorrow... The hotel room seemed to be getting smaller and smaller every day. Today was another Saturday and if memory served, this would be the fourth Saturday spent in this place, waiting for something to happen. The long history of what had brought me to Lisbon, a city I had not known before, started back in 1997 and had brought me here via long, similar stays in Zurich, New York City, London, and other places. That story probably merits a place of its own, but only once it is completely finished. For now, it will suffice to know that my arrival in Lisbon had been some 4 weeks before and since then, my daily routine consisted of breakfast, telephone calls, internet café visits, local street walking, and a late lunch at the hotel cafeteria, where the cost of the food was covered by my hotel room fee, and an occasional visit and/or trip with the friend who had received me at the airport and brought me to the hotel. He was part of the reason for my wait, since som...

The tides shift once again. In retrospect, it seems that these turn on their own time and sometimes -and only sometimes- these tides of life allow us to think and believe that we have some control over what is going on. Perhaps it is better this way; otherwise, we could not blame "circumstances" for whatever ails us. Around late springtime of 1966, there were some problem clouds brewing around the house. My father, trying to get some potential income to move forward, had teamed up with a partner. Their intent, if my memory serves me right, was to establish a Cuban food restaurant and store somewhere in the metropolitan area. I do not remember where. The long and the short of this story was that not only did the project never get off the ground, but the partner had used funds he should have never used. So, financial clouds came over the household and, whenever financial clouds come over the horizon, an emotional outburst is sure to follow, destroying a lot of personal dams alo...

Computer problems, internet access jitters, etc... I have tried to be "good" and write a little each day but... In any event, we will continue on. If the first 12 months could be put under the headings of Lynette, university, radio and modeling, then the last 12 months would fall under the headings of Sheila, university, hotels (work, that is), summer camp counselor, late night revelries around the corner (I’ll explain that one) and, eventually, Uncle Sam’s Army. At the beginning of my second year at the University, I met Sheila. She was pretty, was going to the “Big U” or University of P.R. and had come to our “lowly” (then) campus to visit a friend who was attending Inter. Black hair and big, dark brown eyes. The rest was not bad either. She was talking to some friends (one of whom I knew) and I just walked over and introduced myself to her and the rest of the group. It was definitely good to feel pretty sure about yourself, for whatever misguided reason that may have be...

Just like sitting and bench pressing, writing is an exercise which needs to be practiced regularly. Ideas do come and go; sometimes that topic which was to be, goes by the wayside as soon as one sits in front of the computer. So be it. I would like to think there is a degree of creativity in writing. Truly, what the final destination of these pieces might be, other than the great virtual shredder in the sky, I have no idea. It isn’t Pulitzer quality writing (That’s Roberto José Pulitzer, a forgotten Cuban branch cousin to the other one…) and frankly, there are times when it seems to be an exercise in futility. The question is: who cares? Well, it turns out, I do. And it seems that at least another five or so people do as well. So as the words continue to magically appear on this virtual page (remember typewriters? For that matter, paper and pen?) they do give me a degree of satisfaction. After all, just a few years ago, it would be impossible to get “published” for just a few pennies a...

Those places we have visited along the way and what moments we have lived are what makes us who we are at present. We can choose to relive the difficult moments and have a heavy load to carry, or we can choose to relive those moments which have been helpful and, perhaps, lessen the load a bit. I choose to do the latter. It was my intent to continue to write about the PR years, and I will do so presently. However, last night I received a message through FB from a dear friend who lives in Spain and said message was to let us know that over the weekend, she and her husband had visited the grotto at Fatima in Portugal and had lit a candle on our behalf. This was a very nice gesture, to remember us in this manner, since her own husband has undergone serious CA treatment this past year. However, that is in the past, and so are the post card memories this note brought to me. Summer 2001. How Do I know it was this summer and no other? I had to go on to Germany after having been in Portugal...

These last days have been truly busy and sick. Sometimes I have to remind myself that there are a few who follow this, and for whom (as well as for myself) this is being continued. Thank you for the following. I am not sure why it has become somewhat of a chore to write about the years spent in Puerto Rico. They were two good years; perhaps the last carefree years of my life (maybe this is why... Next stop is the Army years, and they were not the prettiest) . I was single, had a couple of good relationships (not parallel but consequent, for those who may want to be asking that question), did some very interesting work in radio and dramatic art, as well as in hotel (mis)management and in direct sales. And, yes, I did go to school in the middle of this for some 4 semesters. I am sure other things will pop out once I start writing on the subject matter. So, where to start? In order to end this, I mean… We have already talked about InterAmerican University and my beginning there. That s...

7 days ago this entry was begun. This was an unplanned break and really due to being a little a little under the weather and pure laziness. Be well and remember that if you once in a while enter the links to something that attracts you from the little ads, it will help extend the life of the blog. Be well... It is now about 15 minutes to midnight, on this the last day of the Year of the Lord, 2009. Since the sage say that one will spend the new year under the same conditions as the ones in which it is welcome, I guess I will spend some alone time throughout the year. It is just my computer, my phone, the television (One for the ages…Patty Page singing “Tennessee Waltz” – PBS, of course) and me. And yes, a glass of red wine. By now, most everyone has made a mental list of the things which must be turned to reality sometime over the coming months. These will be made into a somewhat coherent list and duly be recorded as the “Resolutions for the New Year”. About 55% of them are repeat ...