Elliott Jaques  coined this term in the 1960s to identify a period of time when adults come to realize their own mortality and how much time may be left in their life. Around my eight years of age, there was this lady who lived in-house and took care of the children ( my brother, sister and little ol’ me ) while doing some light housekeeping work… I guess taking care of us was considered heavy enough work… Her name was Calixta and she also had what was -unbeknownst to me– a “special gift”… she would at times go into a trance and while in this state, was able to “see things”. I am not sure about these bouts but the fact is she did say many things which would eventually turn out to be true. One morning, in the midst of one of these, she looked at me through somewhat glazed eyes and said: “you are going to travel far… you are going to go many places in the world and will stay away from here for many, many years…” To someone who was then around nine years of age and whose trav...

Co’nun’drum:  “something that is puzzling or confusing”… “a difficult problem that seems to have no solution. One of the primary reasons governments do exist, besides all the hoopla we are given on a regular basis and regardless of whether they may be considered good, bad or indifferent,  is simply because a country cannot be run by general consensus. I know… “We the People” and all that goes with this is truly an altruistic concept, but far from a practical one. This is unfortunately truer in a country as complex and as varied as our own, right here in the Good Ol’ US of A. Town Hall meetings are a good concept… of times gone by… they were perhaps very valid in earlier moments when face to face meetings were of the utmost importance, since there were not too many other means to make yourself known then. Today, because of the fact we are an expanding electronic society, ever busier, more knowledgeable (well, in most cases ) and ever more needful, these meetings have b...

Well… since I am not a cow, I guess what I mean to say is that I am “pondering” about many things… It all started during one of those ESL classes which I have the pleasure to give. The book for this particular class requires some serious work on “perfect tenses”. You know… the pesky could’ve… would’ve… should’ve… and all those assorted verbs with “have” as the assistant. But as we delved into the topic, there were some questions within the lesson which actually sparked some interesting and, at times, insightful conversation… all in English, of course… One in particular dealt with a person’s self perceived weaknesses and strengths. Another with dreams not accomplished yet and a third simply asked… “Have you had a difficult moment which has helped you learn something important?” As you can imagine, the people who come to these evening classes ( mostly adults with some baggage in their trunks, so to speak – including their teacher ) don’t really expect to walk into a semi-confess...

Sometime ago, the idea of calling an entry “Introspective Philosophy Entry” was a bit too much, so it came to me … Why don’t I just call it “From Wally’s Pond”? Sort of a tribute to “On Walden Pond…” I think there were one or two entries under that heading, and the contents of this one actually qualify… I think… If you have read some of these posts over the years ( well… we are going on the 4 th year of the blog… ), you know there has been no intention ever to hide the fact that I do believe in the Spiritual aspects of our persona. My upbringing was somewhat eclectic, for it was based on a heavy dose of Catholicism, cushioned by a Mason grandfather as well as an everyday dose of “Spiritism” as practiced by both, my grandfather and my mother, as well as a number of domestic employees with whom I grew my infant years. Early in my life, I was present and participant –though with limitations- at many sessions of these practices, as evidenced in some earlier blogs where this has b...

There is something to be said about words and what they convey… happiness … fear … sadness … joy…  English is a language which encourages communication at a straightforward level; some might say basic level. While I do think it is somewhat simpler than Spanish, I disagree with its being lacking in nuances… just read some of the Bard’s work and it is plainly seen that it can have indeed many shades. Spanish… well… it seems to have been created by confused and somewhat scrambled minds, longing to shout out to the world this is a language for lovers and dreamers; a language best used to describe the stars and the universe which holds them in its bosom… Why the preceding? Some of these passages come from the Spanish blog… Interestingly, when I sit down to translate, there is a lot of poetic license to be had… luckily… I get along well with the original writer. He won’t charge me royalties. Nature... a gift... Mentalists who claim to know, tell us that nothing is imposs...

When we grew up in a country of those called from the “Third World”, in simpler times long gone, we had the chance to live experiences which in the so called “First World” countries would never happen… But… before we go any further, I want to establish we are all inhabitants of the “Third World”… the coveted first world is a little too close to the sun and we would all burn to a crisp in seconds… In my childhood years, in that beautiful island of Cuba, we lived a very different World then than what we have here, or there, or anywhere for that matter. We could roam the streets freely, the worst fear being that of becoming distracted somewhere and getting home late or, in a worst case, being the victim of a very unusual street accident… We could play with our friends, family and neighbors, constantly making someone else ( or becoming ourselves ) the butt of what now would be … GASP!!!... a politically incorrect joke. My Lord… to call someone “Negro” ( Black ) or “mulatto” ( Mixe...

Did you ever hear someone say this? … I bet you have!!! In Spanish we have one that goes something like… “May He Bless Them, But not Multiply Them…!”  This is the story… well… perhaps an anecdote… of Paco and his Paramour… Although a bedside story, is not one of those you might read your children to put them to sleep… It was many years ago, somewhen in he 1950’s, in a beautiful city on the south shore of Cuba, that I met Don Paco. He was the scion and head of one of the branches of a very well off family, with big Holdings in the area of farming and cattle. Paco was the oldest of three brothers who managed the family business and he, very appropriately perhaps, was the head of the milking side of the house. I still remember those delivery trucks, painted a deep, bright yellow… so yellow and so bright that in one of those sunny Caribbean mornings you had to look at them from behind your dark sunglasses. In our island folklore, we refer to any and all cars painted that b...