According to the Thesaurus, the word “musings” has several synonyms, all of which have to do with the action or concept of thinking without a definitive direction flow, of letting “things happen”. Apparently, the original home of the “what ifs”. I must admit this limbo-like mental state is one in which I find myself immersed occasionally. Sometimes by my own choice, sometimes by circumstances’ choice. During these periods I tend to do my most creative thinking; note I do not say “productive” thinking.   Then again, the definition of “productive” is best left to the eyes of the beholder. These are the times I think about someone like our friend Cheíto, how he would react to a given situation. Then I wonder about what this reaction may, when I put it into his words, say about me and my own thought process. These are the times I allow my mind to roam in the near and far past to re-discover moments that can be shared with you, moments which allow me to live -one more time- th...

What is the line between persistence and obstinacy? Looking back, I am not sure I am entitled to answer that question. After many years of pursuing what may be thought of as an impossible dream, the reality of all that has and has not been done in the course of this process is coming home to roost. At this time of my life, after 54 years of almost non-stop work, there should be rewards accumulated along the way, a means to relax a bit and enjoy the time that is left, alongside those who have stood by me all this time. At least, in most fiction books that would be the ending of the last chapter of most stories like this one. There have been many times on this twisted road when giving up, when looking elsewhere away from this madness would have been not only the right thing to do, but totally and completely justified. The expressed reasons for not doing this were varied … ·          “The next deal would sure be the one”. This reason should be...

A trip to New Orleans (a favorite city) that comes to mind as a “special occasion” happened sometime in the summer of 1999. I don’t remember the exact month; some of these events have become blurred images in my memory. Yet, I remember the details of the trip, as it became -several years later, and when looking back- an image of much of what was wrong with what became my interests for a good chunk of the years that came immediately after. This happened during my tenure with -let’s call him- “Ralphie from the Bronx” the guy mentioned elsewhere in these ramblings and who shared an office in lower Manhattan with a friend who dealt in wholesale women underwear. Ralphie had a bank document which had come into his hands and after some unsuccessful attempts to unload it or place it, he was told there was this visiting “Financial Guru” who was sure to be able to help him with this. The catch? He would be staying at an out of the way Mississippi plantation, and only for a week or so. Of c...