UP IN THE BREADFRUIT TREE

POSTCARD MEMORIES FROM THE PIONEER VALLEY ROLAND LAPIERRE GREENFIELD MA

2009-11-21T08:38:00.000-08:00

AFTER THE great success signaled by JANE MADDEN, the letters, the editor has suggested to change the tittle since not every letter is about love or from women. The subject in case is an Arlo Guthrie look alike, fine guitarist, of the Catholic persuasion, with a musical career spanning some decades.
A kind gentleman, once allowed yours truly to share the huge space they
lived in the Clark School for the Deaf. I lived there for some time far away
and distant, full of joy and frustrations.

HOLA,

Thanks for the information on islands and beaches. I hope to look into
some things on the Internet or make a visit to travel agent. I think that
a quiet, 'boring' places, is what we need. Hardly ever is there peace and
quiet and time for wine and romance. Just to get away for a while from
all the things we have to do.

I don't know if I mentioned it but oldest son Adam is going to be a junior
in college and is going to France to study abroad next year. He will be leaving August 31st. He goes to "tours" for a month and the Dijon for the rest of the year. He will be staying with a family while there. We are
excited and nervous. He has never been so far away. It will be a good
educational and social experience for him.

Noah 17. and Zachary 13, will both be attending school at the Academy
of Charlemont. It is about 1/2 hour away going west on Rt2. Past Shelbourn Falls. Its a private school and costs money but they were
generous with having 2 children at same school. Noah has been there
for 2 years already and Zachary will just be starting 9th grade.

Isaiah (10) is going to 5th grade and the Greenfield schools are moving
all the 5th grade kids from all the elementary schools to the middle school
so they could save $ by closing down 1 school. It turns out the savings were minimal after all.

Are you doing some landscaping/horticultural work down there? I am
glad to hear your staying "old school with the LPS and cassettes. I still
do sometimes listen to my LPS or cassettes. I have bought many cds to
replace LPS and such. Sometimes its better but I always love to look
at art work and all the info on LPS.

I just bought a box set of 2 cds called STAX of WAX, its the history of STAX records, artists like Otis Redding, Rufus Thomas, Issac Hayes. Theme from Shaft, and many others. Its pretty good if you get a chance
to hear it.

LOT'S of NORTHAMPTON, is still the same but lots of stores have changed and some bars/restaurants too. Joe's Pizza on Market
St. still there, so is Packards, Fitzwillies, Hugos, Watering Hole, Robertos, lots of new ones too. Such a variety in Northampton.

Easthampton has also been changing and has more places to go. We
mostly go out in Greenfield, Northampton, sometimes Brattleboro, VT.
We have been going camping to Maine in August. Right now we are in
East Brookfield, MA. Near Worcester, Kates family owned a small camp
on a lake there. We go swimming, fishing and we hang out more as a family. Its small but we can fit. All 6 of us in 1 BR. Small kitchen and living room and porch. We also do crosswords and jigsaw puzzles.
No phone but we have our cellular phone.

I think I need more time off from my job. Its ok but sometimes its
so boring it drives me crazy. I'll guess I'll hang out for now. I need
to look around for something that pays more and is more of my liking.

We will see what the future brings...Good to hear from you again.

Peace and love and that stuffs....

FROM THE EDITOR

Soon after...this July 17, 2007, letter was answered to
including
information regarding the botanical inventory
in a similar fashion as the one used by Mr. Lapierre
referring to his children. For example: My Frangipani,
a seed brought from Guanica,
is now 4 years old and3 feet tall...
He seemed to be offended as to the comparison children/plants
deciding not to write saving the thirty eight
cents for stamps.
After I made another attempt to reconnect he and wife
decided to ignore
yours truly saving this time, the valuable minutes
that it will take to answer to a fucking 4 sentence message
in FACEBOOK, where you may find his profile.
What can I say? But is time to go....

NEXT:
michal brown, jennifer brown, karen moreno, carmen rolon
carol delisle, bob cilman, raymond mason
the sailcats, upfront, donal abrams, lisa delisle, gary
delisle, sonia nieto and else...don't missed it.

all info guaranteed original from our thirty
year old archives...

PRESEQUEL THE LOVE LETTTERS MOCK INTERVIEW

2009-11-19T04:23:00.000-08:00

THERE is no introduction this time, we will get into it right away, that damn letter was too long and the customer is always right when I feel like it.

Keyboard operator:
I noticed that it seems you are running short on environmental rants and now are getting a little frivolous perhaps with your 'love letters' with one LOVE word?

Yours Truly:
Dear interviewer, apparently you forget that this blog is MINE. Therefore, when I place
what I feel like placing in every other post, what you or the imaginary reader, real or virtual may think about my wise/unwise decision is not really part of the scheme.

KO: Forgive me, but are you saying that you do not care if there are readers or not?
Virtual or real?

YT: No. Fool. What I write implies that no one can be always right. Some people may
feel it is refreshing to move away from a subject that no matter its amplitude and relevance, to OUR life and that of FLORA/FAUNA may be still present considering
the blog performance for the last 36 months. I do not think that people who drop by
forget for a minute what these siamese triplets are about.

KO: Siamese triplets?
YT: The 3 blogs.

KO: Do you think you are still setting trends?
YT: Lets time be the judge of that. Some blogs that really stink for their absurd
blindfolded desire to imitate newspapers, others with shitty poetry give each others
awards. I reiterate that nothing matters besides air, water and food. Perhaps a roof
over the back, also.

KO: This Jane Madden, how did you meet the creep?
YT: The memory is f a r and d i s t a n t. I think that Ricardo Arieta the imbecile from
New Hampshire, introduced me to her.

KO: Was she beautiful?
YT: Spiritually perhaps. In those days of herb or ganja, beer, snort and else, what the
hell would that mean? However let the record show that in my life, ugly women with
brains have dominated the field during the younger years.

KO: Are you implying that in later eras, big titties and asses dominated?
YT: NO. You are a fucking jerk. To imply is what your dirty scumbag wishes, desires.
I declare that when I was in New York, I became less choosy and accepted reality. One
can not demand PEARS from and ELM tree.

KO: I see.
YT: YOU fucking fool, you do not see crap. BUT considering the output, the recent
one, lets leave it at that. I do not mind your line of questioning, but this is not the
right time. This lengthy letter makes me wonder how can we hang out with people with such boring, irritating wordiness even for a few carnal exchanges.

KO: Sorry If I ofended you.
YT: NO problem. People are not perfect. Plants are more congenial....

JANE MADDEN THE LOVE LETTERS l CIRCA 1985

2009-11-18T06:47:00.000-08:00

ORIGINALLY, upinthebreadfruitree was thought as what it will be
now, with this letter. JANE is not a fictional character, used to live
in Northampton, MA. Her relatives were a dead father I met (before), mother and
two sisters, with residence in Cape Cod, a particularly picturesque area
of MA. One of them used to go out with Ricardo Arieta, brother of Nick Arieta an excellent conga player, better perhaps than yours truly, both originally from New Hampshire. If you think it is well
written, It is. Exceptionally well, but no surprise since she went to study to Chapel Hill, in South or North Carolina a degree related to script,
novel or whatever writing. Enjoy it.

Dear such and such,

You must be wondering where the hell I am and what I'm doing- Well,
me too! Everything 's different since I last wrote- My father did not die
yet-Honestly, he's like thata guy in Monty Python's Holy Grail movie who's supposed to be dead from plague and get thrown on the cart with all the bodies- He keeps saying "I 'm not dead yet!
I really think I might recover". and the guy with the cart says "Oh come
on now, you know you'll be dead by morning"- Finally, he chunks him on the head and throws him in the cart.

Not that I want to clunk my father on the head of course-But his comebacks from the brink are amazing-The doctor came in the middle of
the night to give him morphine a few days ago and said the end was momentary-But even the doctor, who knows him by now, said
"Then again, knowing Henry, he could be fine next week sitting up having
a beer"-Since he perked up and I decided to my stuff down here to NC and try to get back before anything happens to him- So far, so good- We
left Thursday night on schedule, got here Friday,(Bellavista, Cape Cod),
evening, yesterday I went over with Sunny (Wayne's sisters who say Hi to you), to see the apartment that's attached to the rear of the building she
bought to make into a roadhouse/restaurant (Pearl's Harbor, remember?) Now she's decided to have Earl, her lover, put his woodworking shop in there instead of on their land and I'm renting some
woodshop space in the and moving into the apartment.

Instead of having to store my stuff and then move it again to an apartment I just finished putting it all in the empty woodshop space and when I finish painting the apartment and converting a room into a kitchen I can just move my stuff into the apartment in the same building.

It was pretty grueling getting everything, even the heavy stuff unloaded alone, but I just got done + had a lovely shower outside here at Joanne's
+walked around the yard naked working the binks out of my muscles (Wayne + Joanne went grocery shopping +its heaven to their little house +yard all to myself for a few hours.)

Joanne and I are getting along fine but the baby was wacky after all her travels so she couldn't help me much with my stuff. Wayne and I are trying to get along but it is difficult of course. It was my mother's idea
to get him come north and be with Joanne and help me move- It was
a dumb idea and I shouldn't have gone for it because he was grudging
and nasty most of the way- He is like a two year old, everything revolves
around him, his needs his wishes- And because he was "not in charge"
of the moving he was pissy every step of the way if Joanne and I had to stop to rest, etc-..

EDITORS INTERMISSION

Fellow Americans and Intercontinental
visitors, is this an excess of wordiness?
God damn! I will continue later I am
totally worn out.

BACKGROUND BONUS

Jane Madden was a good spirited soul, however
had a great defect, was unable to deal with
solitude/loneliness.
Soon after Antigonum Cajan's alter
ego went their ways, she was in the
arms of some southener negro. In
one of the letters she wondered why the negro's
relatives rejected her softee pale white ass.
Believe it or not.

TO BE CONTINUED....
you are one click away from it
http://anglospanoreview.blogspot.com
will bring the
JANE MADDEN LOVE LETTERS ll
CIRCA 1985
to all fans and foes

THE SEA LEVELS HAVE RISEN AND GARDENING UPDATES

2009-10-03T03:52:00.000-07:00

MY LAST decent job down here was with the Internal Revenue Office, a federal agency. If you do not know, Puerto Rico is a territory of USA. It consisted of answering tax payers inquiries about many issues that I will not bore you at this time through the telephone. A pain in the ass job if you ask me and suitable only for those quick, with good memory for procedures and computer skills.

The IRS is the federal agency watching for tax evaders, money launderers, and other scam artists
down here, at least those doing business requiring the payment of Social Security and Medicaid to USA, for employees, including themselves, when owning the business. UNCLE SAM gets you soon or later, no matter where you hide or attempt to, since they
have AUDITORS in the field.

So what you wonder? And the relation with the environment where is it?

HOLD your horses.

The ipomoea/batata foolish type of governments we have had for the last four decades, gave as routine JOBS to their followers. It is like buying votes, without any type of testing, ranking, placement or criteria, credentials based on merit. They went too far. NOW they have to get rid of these thirty thousand batatas, good for nothing the majority and unnecessary, dead weight if I may.

The sea levels have risen with the insurmountable tears dropped by husband, wives,
single mothers/fathers and the rest who have been fired left and right. The reason to fire these poor souls? The government has to increase the credit rating for their habit of asking for loans to solve
problems as usual, swept under the carpet, and screw it in the long run, just as is happening now, lets fire the poor devils to balance the budget.

IT gets worse...The SOLUTION for the intelligent, BAR ASSOCIATION? They are working on a mandamus to force with a court order, check this out, our CREOLE Revenue Service, DEPARTAMENTO DE HACIENDA, to do their job: collect TAXES.
That is something the director/employees are VERY AFRAID, UNWILLING to do since most Puerto tax evaders, ISLANDERS and NON, have power and connections within the rank and file in every party, government agencies. Pretty much UNTOUCHABLES, evading their taxes from the beginning of time. Just like it is, probably, in your far away country.

MUCH WORSE. Even if the intelligent people in Puerto Rico, the ten or twenty left,
got together and created a marvelous, well thought plan to collect the islanders tax evaders, there is a little problem that these intelligent, wise people forget: one needs AUDITORS, to go
in the field, research and get what the state is owned. Since there are no AUDITORS,
one needs nine months approximately to train them...That is the way the cookie crumbles..

NO vision, no imagination down here, just the blind leading the blind and/or with blindfolds like the JERKS, mama goose LESPERIAN Matriarch. These self anointed
character wrote recently an article about GOLF and white/rich people. NO mention of pollutants, noise, destruction of flora/fauna. That is why I laugh at these make
believe environmentalists. By the way, I coined the term LESPERIANS, and believe
me, is not a compliment to be proud of... THE party politics have these cat skinners blind. Not mentioning flora/fauna in an article about golf is like writing about the WEAPONS INDUSTRY, and not mentioning the maimed and killed. AT least from my humble opinion, jerkette,

BONUS FOR THE PATIENT ONES
I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN

The following plants species/herbs have are now part of the expanding collection in me
garden. By the way I know I could write my garden, it seems to
me cooler and that is that.

Petroselinum crispum
Zinziber oficinalis
Rosmarinus oficinalis
Serpol tuymusserpylum
Yerba buena
Origanum vulgare
Ocimum basilicum
Andropogon citratum

Grab a dictionary if any name seem unfamiliar. The new protocol
is as follows. Since these plants are not really lasting compared
to others, they will be officially inducted in the most recent BOTANICAL INVENTORY, after sixty days. That will reduce substantially the casualties list.
NOW is time to go...Oops
The relationship with all that is written and the environment
is easy to figure. If too many employees in Fideicomiso, 007 Recursos
Naturales and Parques Nacionales were unable to keep clean forests
or clean toilets, to protect the environment against the EVIL
Building Developers, anyone could take a wild guess as to
what will the environment turn into with these wolves
turning every green space and not so green
into
a concrete asphalt
RESORT.

PUERTO RICO GOING BLINDFOLDED ALL THE WAY

2009-09-27T04:13:00.000-07:00

OUR SISTER blog, endemismo, had recently a post on BASURAMA and a couple of their installations discovered by accident on our almost daily strolls. I will not get into
that since critics do what they are supposed to do: criticize. If one prefers to see unusual, original views as personal attacks, that is not really the way the cookie crumbles in our office.

Now if you take a look at the pictures to the right slowly, think of this, what
do you see in your country when you walk for exercise, to collect plants, to relax?
These photos should offer a token of what I see, how I perceive it. I have left no
doubts about how ugly, dirty, noisy I find, feel the Metro Area of SAN JUAN.

MOSTLY. However, when I find something perceived as ugly by others, because
it implicates income, social status, such as the multiple alleyways hidden to most
people infatuated with their cars, never walking, I have written about it. Today
you will look at what I see. Forget about my opinion for a moment, look at the pictures
and the color commentaries, if you must.

FROM THE BOTTOM UP

THIS metallic arch with the antenna, according to the artist, is a CEIBA,
or a representation of one of our greatest, oldest trees. It is ugly in any
league, in the wrong spot, creating blind spots to drivers and pedestrians.
In the island, metallic, humongous sculptures abound in the oddest places.
Some of the ugliest: One in Museo de Arte Contemporaneo, some metallic
structure in BAYAMON CITY, apparently so long, it is/will be in the Guinness
ugly as hell, could be more palatable with some vines: Petreas, Ipomoeas,
Passifloras to name a few.

In BELLAS ARTES, Santurce the TWELVE MUSAS are no only ugly in
my humble opinion, but like the monster AVOCADOS in La PLacita de Santurce
placed in an odd position, creating pedestrian traffic difficult, too big or
too little. Art installations as any intelligent garden HAVE to follow the
rules of composition. Plants are placed according to their size, form,
height, color, texture to name a few. What is wrong with demanding respect
for aesthetics?

SKIP the obvious tires. The four patriots, left to right, Luperon, Marti,
Hostos y Duarte. It will suffice to write that men like these are no longer
around, if you want to know the caliber of these gentlemen go to search.
Apparently they are made of bronze, have beauty, the space and the vegetation
go hand in hand. Everything in harmony.

Now moving from the dark side to the light, lets look at those happy, friendly, functional CRABS. Once upon a time, SANTURCE was just sand and Cocos nucifera in any direction! Crabs were everywhere and certainly part of the diet. From those days
the nick SANTURCE CRABBERS originated. These sculptures are fun to watch, have
beauty, useful to seat and relax for short periods and made of bronze. That is why one
of the crabs is missing some parts of its body and one was left with none.

We are now in the bridge. IF you look carefully, the first left column of the bridge is
wrapped in some black plastic. EL PUENTE, as if it not obvious! This bridge is perhaps the most important in the history of the isle, not only because of the aesthetics of the design, but for some significant attack moons ago when SPAIN
was the kick butt EMPIRE.

Why would you wrap ALL columns of this marvelous bridge may you lay man/woman
enquire? SIMPLE. The impressive ART DECO lamps on top of every column were stolen by probable junkies! It took place a year or more ago. The Directors of the G8 and fellow jerks ENLACE, the leaders of the community residing in the vicinity, thought that hiding the reality behind the plastic, was an intelligent way to solve the matter.

NOT ONLY THAT. To make believe that hiding the robbery was appropriate, a cultural event, with some social 'meaning' was organized. The children of the
schools in the area, decorated the plastic wraps with their infantile art and VOILA, forget the issue of the stolen bronze ART DECO lamps. Forget reality, the beauty of the bridge, its aesthetics, historical significance. I reiterate, this the isle of the fools,
above all the imbeciles infatuated with improving the lives of others, incapable of seeing beyond their ordinary, limited life expectations.

RAW SEWAGE under the bridge. You will not believe it. But not far, there is a lineal
park PARQUE ENRIQUE MARTI COLL, an ugly concrete, over one mile long path
on top of it! Nobody smells it, or complains about floating turds, or the garbage.
Refrigerators, tires, a wide variety of plastic in many shapes and forms. The directors of the G8 community, and Lyvia the Pentecostal looking character, have never demanded to the agency responsible for WATER/SEWAGE (AAA) treatment to stop
this activity for the last thirty years.

Time to go on a green note. This space, Mercantil Plaza, has all that nice Pothos, exuberant with the
shade and right humidity under the Ficus or Mahogany, not sure. Of all the public
spaces one may encounter in my four cardinal points strolls, this one has a special
place in my list. It has some hard to define quality, on top, not many people venture
here since is not too far from the CANHO MARTIN PENHA, vicinity. People of different statu$$.

INVESTING IN GARDENING AND THE VILLAGE IDIOTS

2009-08-15T02:59:00.000-07:00

YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED, that I am not writing about straight up no chaser gardening in the dirt. That is because there is no turf, no hedges, no palms the fundaments of my philosophy to call it something. However there are some ocassional weeds, insects, diseases, deaths that are mentioned when occurring. In the future I will get back to it.

Now lets criticize a little. The village idiots are those people, who talk, ponder with yours truly about gardening issues, going one ear in one ear out. Anita, is #1. This fool lives in a corner, her house appeared once in our photo gallery with a jungle surrounding it. There are Calistemon, ferns, Allamandas, Bouganvilleas surrounding the property and, two ridiculous palms in the 8' long 5' wide entrance to her residence.

She jogs thinking that she is beautiful. I find very amusing to watch her looking at
her watch when finishing as if she just has won the Berlin Marathon. Yesterday, after
going through the motions, without saying good morning or anything close to it,
asked me what to spray on her cracks, concrete cracks in the gutter, sidewalk and driveway that is.

I had to repeat three or four times. GLYPHOSATE. I took the opportunity to mention to this vain witch, ( I feel shy today, with the letter B, is what she really is),
that her imported illegal gardeners from La Espanhola stink. They use machetes and a blower instead of a broom, in an area less than thirty square feet!

Now figure this one out. This bitch, not shy anymore, pays these two gardeners some
peanuts to mutilate her vegetation. Defends them as doing a good job and consults
yours truly, a genius, more wholesome than the other, Gil, yours truly for free, to spray some herbicide that her gardeners do not know exist and could not read the instructions in either Spanish or English.

Will she buy the one gallon spray bomb and the herbicide? Will she read the instructions? I will let you know in the next chapter: Anita in the corner
goes spraying the weeds.

Now another similar story, with a difference, I have some appreciation for Don Miguel, but it is the true. Two days ago I wrote in a piece of paper the brand ORTHO,
show him the plastic jar, told him it costs nine bucks, suggested that he should buy
the sprayer. He left giving me the impression that he would do it.

Yesterday, after returning after a little celebration of my aniversary, five decades and one eighth, I see him under our tropical pain in the ass sun, spraying with a familiar white bottle and a gun, the cracks in front of his house. I ask him to show me the
bottle and surely, it has less than two percent of the chemical in question. It cost
$21.00 USA, a watered down product also known as Roundup. I got a little irritated
considering the time to explain how things work to this gentleman for the last fifteen
months I have lived here.

When I questioned him, he stated that he bought it at the supermarket. I reminded
him that I could have taken him to the hardware store in my car. But with a sense
of pride that I can not understand, stated : "I could not do that". So screw him. This
guy has lots of money, and never thinks of taking a cab! Saves it using the smelly, dirty bus, wastes it with a water down 2% Vs 41% product . He could have a sprayer for 12 and herbicide for 9= $21.00. On top,
since the proportions are 3 ounces herbicide per gallon of water, you could spray two
hundred square feet with one gallon every 3/6 months depending on how quickly
it grows on your property.

ANY KIND OF GARDENING is an investing. You invest MONEY, energy, stamina,
time, effort and hope. Even if your garden stinks aesthetically, you made an investment that is or is not helpful to flora and fauna that surrounds it. If you take
your time to think about what you do in your garden, you will increase the interest
of your investment s l o w l y. In my particular situation, if I put less physical energy
daily, weekly, monthly in my garden, while increasing its beauty, fragrance, shade, silence, privacy, pruning, propagating, planting, irrigating, weeding here and there without ANY STRESS, I confess to get a great return.

Is that the way you operate? That is not how the cookie crumbles in the idiots village.
Puerto Rico, USA.

TRANSCENDENTAL BONUS

If you are an agronomist or such, or into research you probably heard of trans genetic seeds
or whatever, created to rip off farmers all over the world. These are created to resist
drought, heat, some herbicides, diseases and such. They are sold under a LICENSE.
I have read a couple of court cases regarding using the seeds without the license.
In Canada and India.
In the first country the family accused of using the seeds were farmers of wheat or corn,
not sure on that. For generations, they have used their own collected improved seeds.
Somehow, the licensed seeds got into their farms and MONSANTO sued. The family
spent over four hundred thousand dollars in their defense, winning by the way
the case in court, but the judge did no offer any relief.

In INDIA you guessed right, the farmers unable to defend
themselves had to pay the fines for using seeds without the license.

The trick to determine if the seeds are or not licensed?
Spray them plants with GLYPHOSATE, they are resistant to it!

BEACH REPORT WEEK END EDITION SEVEN SEAS IN FAJARDO CITY

2009-08-08T15:26:00.000-07:00

I KNOW some of you are missing my exhaustive beach reports from Puerto
Rico. After Luquillo, in the north, east further down on highway #3 is Fajardo and the mentioned salty water facility for relaxation of sorts. The bad news is that it administered by that monster of ineptitude PARQUES NACIONALES, however this time more good that not is in our report.

SEVEN SEAS IS THE BEST BEACH IN Puerto Rico by DEFAULT. The toilets did not smell of you know what thanks to a different design and ventilation. There was PAPER, believe it or not, even though not much and
stained after falling on the floor and put to dry. Of the four toilets in the males section one was closed with padlock, one was clogged, one had evidence of some Jackson Pollock style painter art work, mostly brown in the right side ot the toilet seat with toilet tissue below with a touch of collage. This unique piece is to be hanged in the Parques Nacionales Hall of SHAME disgusting toilet in EVERY CARDINAL POINT IN PUERTO RICO IN public beaches.

And the fourth toilet? Well glad you ask the only one available to have someone sit is the handicapped one. One thing is certain the problems
mentioned regarding this lack of higiene and maintenance is not only responsibility of the incompetent public agency...A lot of puerorican hogs
are also responsible to have this smelly, ugly chaos in the isle beaches.

To finish with the toilets... The showers are far away...OF the ten or so I saw, one had water, all the faucets screwed up or none in place. Of the sinks there are eight. Two are missing with circular empty spaces, of the other six I tried them for this report...two are in working order.

ONE thing you can do if expecting to visit this PARADISE, before going to
the 3 mentioned or any other, have your stomach cleaned the day before
to avoid the possibility of this kind of adventure and piss in the sea or ocean depending if you travel north or south.

In other departments MUSIC, Seven Seas beat the crap out of Luquillo and Guanica. In the latter for example: Olga Tanhon shitty burn out
merengue singer, Juan Luis Guerra, Juanes, Jlo's Marc Anthony and Victor Manuelle. Of the group the last two stink.

IN SEVEN SEAS there is a sophisticated disco equipment, not the GUANICA blown out speakers used in concentration camps as in the GREAT ESCAPE: Victor Manuelle,
Ruben Blades, Ismael Miranda, Monchi y Alexandra, Fania, Donna Summer, Village People, Grupo Niche, wonderful from Colombia, and Bob Marley too little of both. But the dj can not be blamed due to his NY cultural background, probably
the Bronx, judging by his speech patterns and entonation. By the guay
before I forget, in the Bronx there is a Puerto Rican beach ORCHARD BEACH, I visited it 3 times. When there you think you are here and vice versa, you got that?

The end of this story came abruptly. As some of you may know Puerto Ricans have a repugnant habit of not respecting private space in public
or private contexts. Four people came. Two fat project types came twenty four inches to my left. Installed a hammock with their two siblings around.

It felt as if you (imagine this now) are in the living room of your house watching Cuentame como Paso or 77 Sunset Strip, and four stranger jerks come, sit and steal the remote control, changing the channel. What a trip!

So there you are, SEVEN SEAS is the best beach in Puerto Rico that I know.

The best for last. Brief botanical note. Not only this beach is the best from my perspective, it also has the HIGHEST variety of shade trees, PINES, predominantly by the water with great shade and soothing sound with the wind. Not many
palms thank god, empty recycling bins, a lot of safeguards and just a pleasure. Until next.....

NOTE for the five continents: Go to you tube if interested in the names of the artists mentioned, It could be an exasperating experience with some
or just something new to spend/kill time.

SOUTH BY SOUTHWEST OR GUANICA CITY AND SURROUNDINGS

2009-08-02T10:16:00.000-07:00

THE TRIP to GUANICA, is often fun. One goes from crowded concrete, asphalt roads and highways to secluded out of the way places, most of the time. Too many people for my taste were hanging in the guest houses for rent and Marylee's by the Sea our headquarters. The worst are children with their squeaky voices and loud inhabitants.

But critics should also mention the good news. This time for some reason, there were SIGNS OF INTELLIGENCE, in the scenery and among the people.

One striking change in roads is the use of all kinds of AGAVACEAS in medians and other drought/heat resistant species on 116 Road, the main drag. These wonderful plants are not necessarily endemic but blend pretty well with the environment and require no particular maintenance.

Another example of this adventure was to find an owner of the only nursery in town, with some knowledge of botanical names and capable of intelligent conversation. His view on landscaping was original since not
many jerks with nurseries, the vast majority of them, know anything about brokers and even less botanical names.

Brokers for the lay person in this field are those charging a fee for buying for you the small fish, plants from the big fish. Many wholesale nurseries will only sell by the hundreds or the thousands. The broker does the service, buying smaller amounts for many small nursery retailers unable to get particular items otherwise.

I stopped at his, to buy a couple Aesparagus growing with organ pipe shape, resistant to my garden conditions: heat/drought/salt breeze. I critized his selling of silly, abused, ridiculous bromeliads from RAIN FORESTS, in the DESERT, to which he presented a stupid defense. Water them and keep them in the shade...That was his argument.

This is evidence of being intelligent, with notions of the matter itself and
stupid at the same time. All because of MONEY. If I had a nursery in the desert I would have less money at the end of the month, but I would not sell palms, ficus, bromeliads, PERIOD. I will not go with the crowd or follow the complacency destroying the environment and making it uglier
day after day. There is more about this trip...later....

UP IN THE BREAD FRUIT TREE GOES INTO DAILY NEWS MODE

2009-07-27T03:07:00.000-07:00

I was pretty much amazed to see the same story again, with a somewhat different plot.
The protagonists lily white police officers and an uppity negro as they are described by
the lily whites at home. Our president expressed correctly his thoughts and impressions. I have no doubts about it.

What seems out of proportion is the reaction of these racist police officers who have an attitude of beating up now, ask questions later. It is well known certain pleasure among police officers in New York for example, to stick their batons in the rectum of
certain criminals or citizens suspected of having committed a crime, or under the impression of violating the law.

I used to work for the Criminal Justice Agency in One Police Plaza, for an idiot director Dolores Palmer, a negress. I had to interview some criminals to determine if they could be released without paying bail.

Imagine this scene. In a room not bigger than twenty five square feet, over a hundred people. Homeless, some who had jumped the turnstile in the subway, rapists, burglars, street peddlers from Senegal, Ecuador, Mexico. Prostitutes of all kinds, bums, bookies and murderers once in a while. The smell of piss on the floor, sweat, and the unmistakable fragrance of unwashed homeless hogs in the atmosphere, a stink only surpassed by a rotten carcass.

But what is remarkable, still fresh on my memory is the great fun policemen: negros, hispanics and the lily white segment, had while beating up these wretched of the earth with handcuffs on. Just the impression of being disrespectful or talking back was enough to get one ass kicked without any remorse. Note: since Asiatics are very few among policemen, I never saw one during this exercise.

When policemen were arrested for: selling weapons, working as body guards for drug dealing characters, driving under the influence or any other crime and brought to One Police Plaza, they never walked around with handcuffs and were treated as if
they were innocent or deserving such special treatment. I bet that still goes on.

But all these is nothing compared to the behavior of these mostly white, during a manifestation, a real shame to New York, during a walk out for more money, time off and benefits during the mayoralty of David Dinkins, a negro, the most incompetent mayor in the history of New York. In policemen circles Mr. Dinkins was referred to as the 'wash room attendant'.

During the manifestation these policemen took the city, blocking the traffic, roaming, acts of vandalism took place in the streets as if they belong to them. These guys are really scary.

But I bet that policemen in ANY country of the WORLD with different ethnic groups act just the same with similar situations. The law is written, enforced by those in power. What takes place in USA will make the news. However, I am certain that having a gun, a uniform and belonging to the correct ethnic group entitles one to ABUSE, and to demand apologies from the President, when he expressed indignity for the actions of a great percentage of police officers.

I REITERATE all policemen in USA, judging from those in NEW YORK, with the greatest variety of ethnics in the police force, will abuse anyone under the right circumstance.

But if one is interested in getting to the root of these issues, do not believe a word written here. Research the origins of the POLICE DEPARTMENT in NEW YORK from the beginning. If you think it is irrelevant, since New York is very different from most other cities, with over two hundred nationalities among its population, that is your motivation.

Then for the hell of it, check the FIREFIGHTERS, a lily white fraternity from its historical origins, in which no ethnics are welcome. So long. Forgive me for doing something I despise in many blogs: getting into what newspapers do. I will try not
to do it again, If I fall, forgive this humble servant.

JUST ANOTHER FIRST IN THE HISTORY OF ENVIRONMENTAL ISSUES IN PUERTO RICO

2009-07-07T12:23:00.000-07:00

3 AMAZING TREES TOGETHER FOR THE FIRST TIME
IN ANY MEDIA
NEVER MENTIONED BEFORE

THESE 3 Ficus, Marginata and Benjamina, close by the highway as you can see. They cover

almost the whole surface of the pavement. Probably between 6o/100 years old. The measures

are impressive for any tree in the island. Added, this trunk or multitrunks cover over one hundred feet in length. The drip line is between one hundred feet and one fifty, as you can figure with the concrete lanes below.

There is a hospital to their right, one of those poor picturesque vecinities also. That may explain why these wonders, one in a kind, are not a tourist or make believeecotourist environmentalist shrine.

The first picture from the bottom up, was taken across the highway, in the south side, on a hill. The top shows from
the roof of the lucky family having such sight behind. These houses are in el Barrio Venezuela in Rio Piedras.

I offer my apologies, I am not into photography, but it is evident that the resolution stinks, not
only here, but in previous situations also. Perhaps one of those kind people who offered their signatures, some of whom certainly have the ways, will feel inspired and take some graphic
artist quality photos and publish them.

THIS SUGGESTION before I leave. IN USA, where size, shape, age is relevant, trees and forests matter to most citizens, in such manner that there is a list with photos of their greatest trees in the WHOLE country with their exact dimensions, something I can not do. This people understand that to help the environment money talks.

For this reason, micro propagation, cloning of those trees exists. You can buy one and plant it in a suitable place. The same thing could be done here in this isle. Alberto Areces Mallea, the Phd who ruined the fifteen acres in the biggest ecoenvironmental crime in Puerto Rico, could
do it. In Trujillo Alto, with the Fundacion Luis Munhoz Marin as accomplices, they were the culprits. Perhaps they will earn the forgiveness from the people, nature and God, if they could
do something useful. I know because they, him and the olmec indian of his wife used to babble
a lot abour micropropagation. Lets see if they can do it.. Time to go....

WHY DO I COUNT TREES BY THE SIDEWALK

2009-07-06T09:29:00.000-07:00

MOCK INTERVIEW

Interviewer: Why? If you know the result before hand? Callousness and indifference.

Antigonum Cajan: Before I get to that, may I offer some background information? It seems
that everyjuan believes the environment is a pet cause and the tittle "environmentalist" can
be claimed without discrimination and consequences.

I: Wow, is this your blog?
AC: Yep. NO objection, then. To count trees as I do, should have been routinely done by Fideicomiso de Conservacion, Parques Nacionales, 007 Natural Resources, or pro bono by the obscure islanders Arborists Association. But first things first. A brief list of requirements to make the counting with focus.

THE CERTIFICATE
NY BOTANICAL GARDEN

Soil Science 32 hours
Turf and Grounds Maintenance 18
Introduction to Plant Science 16
Tree Maintenance 16
Disease Identification & Management 12
Weed Identification 4
Insect Pests of Ornamental Plants 15
Intro to Interior Landscapes 12
Horticultural Tech: Landscape Gardening 18
Integrated Pest Managements 12
Weed Control 12

I: Oh boy, that makes you, what an authority in the subject? Someone who never makes mistakes? The perfection in person?
AC: None of the above, but close. When I started my vocation in the blogosphere, there was no expectation of any kind regarding yours truly, critical views on people dealing with flora/fauna, ecology, environment, installation of green areas, maintenance, biodiversity,
gardens as habitats, issues of aesthetics and nature, pollution of the environment with obsolete
maintenance practices, the need to eliminate, palms, turf and hedges for this reason.

I: Is that all, and do you have any hope regarding the isle inhabitants about aiming, focusing correctly as to what is the difficulty to deal, approach those destroying, enemies of the environment for profit or stupidity? You know, housing developers, government agencies, property owners and such?
AC: NO. I have no hope at all except in myself and what I do. I think that maybe in other countries with similar problems, some readers may be able to focus with a wide scope, not with blinders, protecting their own ignorant niche, measured by that list above this.

I: Have you counted anything lately?

AC: Glad to oblige here it is.

THIRD PARTIAL TREE INVENTORY
PONCE DE LEON AVENUE
FROM SAGRADO CORAZON ST.
TO
ELISA COLBERG/CERRA STREETS

BOTH SIDES OF THE STREET

Right side
Tabebuias 45
Dk 3
Almacigos 36
Eucaliptos 49
Palms 7
Empty Spaces 14
Mutilated no Branches 6

Left side
Tabebuias 53
Ficus 4
Hemajaguilla 1
Eucaliptos 77
Palmas 5
Empty Spaces 18

R=L 280
Empty Spaces 38

I: Are we done with the interview?
AC: You may go, thanks.
I: See you there and keep it up.

Now if we add the numbers from the first inventory on 16 June 09= 173 Trees 17 Empty Spaces,
second, 2 July 09=200 Trees 34 Empty Spaces and todays Trees 280 Empty space 38 the totals
are interesting =653 Trees with 89 empty spaces. I do not see anyjuan complaining about these dissapeared ones, where are the environmentalists when one needs one?

The relevance of inventories as mentioned before is not to continue planting the wrong species over and over as Eucaliptos. They all look scraggly, like those artificial christmas trees with the branches stuck to a green stick.
Same goes for Tabebuias and Almacigos. Most of the sidewalks are often cracked by
the root system looking for oxygen, in addition to the ridiculous small square for it. This is dangerous and makes walking hazardous. Particularly if you are in the handicapped segment of the population and almost impossible if in a wheel chair.

I would like to mention, If I have not, this 'counting of the trees', is a twelve miles trip, six in
each direction, how can our environmentalists in the occassional bangwagon, have missed them? Because they have blinders or never walk? The environment in the urban context is not what
it appears to be within the car or in front of the monitor.

All these trees, ALL of them have been mutilated at the trunk or branches. Some are more dead
than alive, requiring replacement if we were in a sophisticated arboriculture society. The majority are in the electrical wires. close to them or over. Consequence? The AEE, the government agency in charge of wire maintenance, executioners par excellence, will prune incorrectly, mutilating these trees, making them not only
uglier, a matter of aesthetics, but increasing the branches when cut in the wrong place.

Epilogue. Inventories give a whole picture about the lame horses that have been for thirty six months brought to drink the water, but somehow refusing it. I hope that readers from other countries with these problems, encounter down the road, path, highway, some horses more humble to accept, willing to focus and to remember....
that the moon is not made of cheese and shall not be eaten with molasses. Time to go.....

INVESTIGATIVE REPORT : THE FIRST RESPONSE

2009-07-04T11:12:00.000-07:00

KNOWING THE END, it is time to allow our readers to follow the beginning
of this adventure. I thought that it would be appreciated, understood, but no,
it did not happen.

"Your message was referred to Public Relations". It has the name, that I will not
write to protect the innocent, but here the initials. J.L.M Internet Banking Support.

"The attached message arrived incomplete, I need to have it sent again to be able
to help you". Same initials and tittle.

The truncated message from yours truly:

ATTN: President Western Bank
Board of Directors

The first VERTICAL GARDEN installation in your facilities is full of conceptual
mistakes, including plant selection and lack of nutrients by irrigation.

Now we are getting to see the beginning of the end. I will reproduce it and will finish
with my impressions. Following is the email from E.T.T.,VP, Public Relations. Warning. It is not fiction or altered, If the translation
seems odd, imagine the original. I will not mention rules of this or that violated since anyjuan will be able to detect this rather unusual writing fashion.

"Dear Mr. ....(my last name):

We at Westernbank admire and are proud of citizens, friends and above all, that our clients be involved in our thing, that is why we are the
'PEOPLE'S BANK'.

These suggestions will be taken care off immediately and our President will be aware of your consideration, that you have shared offering your
opinion as an expert in green areas management.

For this we thank for your comments about the possibility of doing consulting work pro bono in a garden we have.

But the message is not understood. I will appreciate your phone number,
to communicate personally,or more information so we can understand
which is the garden, to refer the case to the corresponding department.

Certainly, citizens like you are the ones making that our nation be better each day. We count on your information so we can take care of your recommendation immediately."

Best regards,

E.T.T, VP
Public Relations

I am getting tired. If any of the pr islanders, a majority of my international readers, followed by USA wish to inquire, their phone
appear in the previous Investigative Report.

I notice some mocking from ETT,VP in the previous jewel he wrote,
but how can I criticize mocking? Just thought. This could have been
entitled: The Chinese umbrella affair.

Moral of the story:

If anyjuan offers

you information gratis that may be certain regarding a project of a million
or more bucks, use diplomacy, tact, intelligence. Think of a bottle of a nice single malt, a five thousand dollar certificate of deposit, a two week vacation in
New Zealand, Australia, Vietnam to name a few places where endemismo arrives...not a six dollar chinese umbrella, even better, do not offer anything since nothing was requested or expected, Jack you jerk!

AT THE GALLERY IN CAROLINA CITY

2009-06-21T03:49:00.000-07:00

I WAS INVITED to visit a gallery in that dull city mentioned, its ghostown downtown. There were thirty paintings and mixed media at the most, in the well lighted, warm atmosphere, not overwhelming Escute Gallery, congratulations.

When you enter a gallery, museum and anything at eye level gets your
attention, is probably a real piece of shit or something really wonderful! I was fortunate. A still life by some great painter, surely unknown, hit me hard.

It was a group of watermelons (no offense brothers), pumpkins and relatives. What is the big deal about such still life? Wonders the local dissident and fellow readers from f a r away regions.

CRITERIA enters: light, composition, shadows, perspective, size, color, contrasts, grouping, but overwhelmingly evident: TEXTURE, symmetry,
or the opposite, balance, focus and perspective.

These edibles were painted with such care regarding texture that they seemed real. That in painting is judged as good or bad depending on who you ask. That is why those abstract fellows exist, some of which are good
in our creative horticultural critic view.

But lets get to our specialty. Perhaps, some readers, the happy type, complacent, successful or not, finds this blog, irritating, perpetual criticism as a form of resentment or hate towards people, the creators of our environmental kill.

But go back to CRITERIA enters, slowly, the fourth paraghraph. If yours truly can discuss a painting in apparent, seemingly educated fashion, and a garden is JUST like a painting, sorry; you will have to accept that my difficulty accepting the mediocrity, beyond mediocrity regarding gardens, horticultural installations is not a product of resentment or misanthropy.

A garden is just like a blank slate canvas! What you place in it should create an effect on the onlookers, relaxation, wonderment, pleasure,
quiet and peace. To be able to reach this ultimate goal, composition, texture, size, color contrasts, focal points and perspective
MUST be present NOW or LATER. Flowers and fragrance could be added as a bonus.

This virtual garden, some of which one may encounter in so many countries but here, start affecting our energy positively as soon as
you get closer to the entrance, under the shade if it is old, or under the imaginable one if one possess imagination or later, when things grow, as
time goes by. I have not felt that here, and it gets worse.

As time goes by, my feeling, frustration, is how come so many blind idiots work, are in charge of nurseries, maintenance and installations of every public/private space in Puerto Rico/Concreteasphalt isle?

For that reason when I want to feel those
sensations mentioned in the paraghraph above, I visit some gardens in the internet or step out of my kitchen in our backyard. There I recharge
the batteries to share my views with you virtual reader. Happy camper or not.

MOCK INTERVIEW REGARDING THE TWO MATRIARCHS

2009-06-18T03:01:00.000-07:00

ALL THOSE readers and curious from far away lands may have noticed some hints of irony, sarcasm and worse in this here blog. A tendency to burn, rather than build bridges. It is not on purpose. In the beginning I go with open mind to those who are living legends in their own head, It does not bother me. Since I was fifteen, when most relevant decisions about life were taken, I concluded that if you are smart/wise, really,
it will show in your discourse even if one does not know what is being said/written.

THE INTERVIEW

Interviewer: Tell us how are things going in Puerto Rico, regarding the environment, horticulture, gardening and so forth. Please put it in context, lets pick two years.

One and only: In terms of people, virtual people met in the blogosphere, the situation
is sterile, symbolic, mesianic, and academic.

I: What the hell our readers are supposed to make of this vague response?
OAO: May I elaborate rather briefly?

I: Sure. It is your blog is not it?
OAO: Fine. I believe the first character I met was a fellow with a foreign degree who seems to
know his thing. Excellent credentials, knowhow, but carrying a lot of dead weight.

I: Dead weight?
OAO: Sure. The bible. In a world in which people kill each other because one prophet is cooler
than other, reason enough to kill those followers of the less cool prophet, I do not think that
speaking/writing in BIBLICAL riddles helps, convert anyone into EDIBLE GARDENS.

I: Did you mentioned it?
OAO: NO. I have learned that if you have an education, academic that is with a tittle or without
it, you should know better. I do not believe in the state, family, church, actually I am becoming
little by little a misanthropist to tell you the truth. EDIBLE GARDENS are important, but why
do you have to put the WORLD FOOD CRISES in biblical, apocaliptical fashion? I have never
been able to read the bible. Ten paragrahps is my record. Perhaps that explain why non catholic,
people carry that book in their armpits day/night and go to their places of adoration in vain
attempts to understand and decipher whatever the hell is written there.

I: Say what?
OAO: If I am mistaken YOU, tell me why anyone needs to have a book interpreted to them day
after day, 24/7, year after year. It is insane. However this finishes one of my replies to the original question.

I: Is there much else to tell our readers?
OAO: I you stuck this far. Wait for the best part. Check this out. In Puerto Rico, it is in the history
of environmental/landscapemanagement/horticulturalhappenings appearing in endemismotrasnochado.

I: Are you going to get to the point, please?
OAO. OK. The first attempts to relate to other bloggers from the isle, were through three individuals with three different blogs scratching each other backs in many subjects. The killing,
mutilation of trees brought us together. And separated us forever. I noticed that knowing nothing about inter relations in nature, the incident for them was one of posing, even if they
or you disagree with me. I started to call them the LESPERIANS, since their leader a Mother
Theresa sort of matriarch, a former teacher....became the guru of the ONE THOUSAND SIGNATURES, to be brought to the SECRETARY of 007 Recursos Naturales.

I: Please I thought you were going to be brief.
OAO: This is my blog, goddemond!

I: Calm down goddemond!
OAO: I feel better, sorry folks.

I: NOW, could you finish? After all this is history in your past articles or not? Those interested
could check postings from eight months ago and find the story....
OAO: I thought this was and interview. Can I continue?

I: Please proceed with more recent anecdotes.
OAO: Here it goes. This one is almost hot from the oven. I met another MATRIARCH, this
one will be baptized the SORCERER. This magic sorcerer is into exotic philosophies from the far east, there is nothing more important in life, that and yoga, probably vegetarianism, those are the pillars of
this fanatic edible gardeners if you ask me.

I: What is wrong with that?
OAO: NOTHING. It is just the perception of people that some people get and believe it is what
it is just because they, anointed by some extra terrestial being believe it is.

I: What? Are you pulling my legs?
OAO: Just one. Jaha, bilingual laugh. That is why I am into horticulture and criticism, environmental, ecological issues, constantly researching, reviewing what I think/believe. It
is not written in stone. The two MATRIARCHS, and the Biblical Edible Prophet, all, are humanitarians, but can not see a TOTAL environment, an overpopulated earth for example.

I: ARE they blind?
OAO: Not in the literal sense. The last matriarch is really wordy. Tons of cliches. For example
while questioning the only critical author on the issues discussed here I (in other words), wondered aloud why I did not teach the jerks and others how to make a correct VERTICAL GARDENING, with some 3D gadget. Believe it or not.

I: What is so bad with the goody goody intention?
OAO: Whatever one may think off. Check the end of this story.
By the way these THREE big people in the little puddle, never made a comment in their emails about
the blog read in so many places I will not even count anymore. This is the end. Not fiction.
She the MAGICIAN with the little brain, invites me to give a little workshop about this subject somehow I believe to have mastered in a far away town in Puerto Rico. If it helps for comparison, a trip from New York State to California, just a hundred miles long. It if for some
illiterate fellows who were given land from the government and wish to start an URBAN GARDEN, my favorite cause.

I: WOW, are you going to finish between the next twenty hours?
OAO. NO. I will kill it in your hands...After 2 thousand words in her emails about this or that,
always in a condescending tone, after I accepted without conditions to make that lengthy trip,
she requested nothing else than a RESUME. Believe it or not. Time to
go. Thanks for your patience. This is the situation, with people in the isle.

THE FUTILITY OF EDUCATION AND GOOD INTENTIONS IN THIS NECK OF THE WOODS

2009-06-15T10:07:00.000-07:00

SOME TIME AGO, over three years. I decided to become a goody goody volunteer and started sending electronic mails to institutions, agencies (private/public), dealing
with mental health, housing, integration to society, schools, and theoretical self help community agencies operating with Federal funds from USA.

This story is an aberration as to the futility of good intentions. People within the system are only there to get money for themselves using the community, creating jobs or opportunities for isolated segments of the population as the pretext. The director of the PENINSULA DE CANTERA also related to AmericCorps if I am not mistaken, has thirteen political appointees of her confidence. Before I forget, this dead brain has to be among the greatest idiots in my two hundred articles so far.

In brief. Elizabeth, our heroine drop by my house, with an intern, to get information about plants and planting to develop work shops for elementary school children. This character, making over fifteen thousand bucks, in charge of the work shops, not only did not know anything about plants: shade/sun, a bush from a plant or a tree, irrigation, pruning she had no idea as what to plant.

I the preacher in the ocean explained the whole story, pretty much as I usually do,
to the point. After that, we went to buy the plants I thought adequate considering
the space to be planted and the null care they would probably get after the initial
fever of planting, as always happens. Finally, we went to unload the plants, tools,
hoses, water cans. Imagine, getting such a salary to educate children how to plant,
the environment and similar objectives, without any minimal hint as to what it takes.

What really turned me off, after the initial pro bono help, was the intentions of the director. some Miss Rivera, or whatever. When I suggested to prune correctly by myself, the tens of trees mutilated, this miss suggested to our heroine that I teach the 'boys'. That I take the 'boys' with me and show how is done!

That is when I decided that someone making such money, Miss Rivera, should
hire a consultant, ME, to design a plan with objectives for the 'boys' and what really
mattered to me, the environment and vegetation. I sent the proposal without much
hope. Waited and waited...nothing happened. I told her charmingly what I think
of her and her silence then.

But the story repeats over and over. A month or so ago I wrote to a pentescostal from the Bronx looking woman, that I saw on tv. She is the director of ENLACES, a community group working in Canho Martin Penha's eight communities, to improve the quality of life and conditions. After a lame response, as to her sharing my inquiry interest and credentials with others, nothing happened.

I waited respectfully and sent the necessary response. NATURE does not need of
committees of any kind to be improved. I mentioned to the pentecostal looking lady
that at a minimun, an inventory of whatever the residents have planted in their
yards and pots, inside/outside could be started. It costs nothing.

What for? To create a list of the best looking, healthier vegetation, with a possibility
of teaching the many available ways to propagate to the residents, a nursery, an exchange of plants among those interested. Following, dear reader? The response,
nothing. It seems that only stupid people are involved with issues regarding the environment. Juatsup with their silence I do not know. NONE of my proposals
require a Harvard education for a response yes/no that is that.

If you wonder, far away reader what brought to the table this post, I will tell you. It
has happened again. After suggesting that I THE CRITIC, teach others with examples, gadgets how to do things correctly ( Vertical Gardens), an invitation for
some gardening happening was offered. After accepting it....a resume was requested!
Believe it or not. Af if over two hundred articles from A to Z on these matters were
not enough.

WHAT IS THE POINT OF SAVING ISOLATED SPECIES?

2009-06-14T09:33:00.000-07:00

TODAY WAS remarkable. My fears, became reality. Two months ago I performed an act of horticultural guerrilla on the grounds
of the Metro in Santurce. I took advantage of the tall weeds, perhaps 3' feet tall, to plant a Pandanus and Maguey, an agavacea, pretty similar to those blue ones used for tequila. They were hiding, knowing what the illiterate guys with weed wackers will do. They did. The Pandanus passed
away, while the Maguey, survived, perhaps one of the executioners recognized it, and let it be.

Now the tittle. Down here, perhaps for the last thirty/twenty years, the USA, Federal government, started a program to save the endemic parrots from Puerto Rico...There were a few, then, now there is maybe twenty/thirty. I do not know. I do not care. How will anything survive
here, a platform of asphalt-cement always in expansion, is a mistery, with only one end: extinction.

In India is tigers. The population growth makes their habitat smaller
and smaller.

In Africa, elephants ans primates to name a few. Everyone seems to have
a pet symbol species to save, in danger of extinction. NO one knows the
methodology to fall in such category. It includes anything that is alive, vegetation also. I wonder all the time who are these people doing
the counting to determine what, when falls in the extinction league.

In Spain is the bears, and linx. In all the mentioned countries, the problem is the same. Variables of killing, poisoning because land owners raise cattle and these predators may get some.

Or the animals get on cultivated land trampling the crops. It does not matter how you put it. Foreign/native scientists do the math, and that is that: danger of extinction.

However, what is accomplished in the long run? If the population growth
is not stopped, the habitat for any animal will continue to become smaller
and disappear. I will not even discuss the amout of acres that some species of predators or herbiborous require to survive.

In Puerto Rico, some foreign idiots from Mexico and Cuba came eight years ago, decided what is endemic and in danger of extinction and destroyed a perfectly fine dense forest with a huge tractor, leaving everything in sight, bare, a moonscape, without any species inventory of flora and fauna, or soil analysis.

A habitat implies an interaction of ALL living creatures in ANY context.
Picking ones to be saved, for particular reasons, without addressing growth population and/or the interaction among flora/fauna and us
is not only silly, but a waste of money, effort and false hopes.

CONTACT LA FUNDACION
flmm.org
787-755-4506
787-755-7979
787-755-4506

Please inquire about the '200'
species in Parque Donha Ines
I would like to have the list.

REALITY IS UGLIER THAN IT SEEMS IN PHOTOS

2009-06-12T03:51:00.000-07:00

YESTERDAY, we dug in the archives. Our siamese triplet is usually
on variations on a horticultural theme. This one is/was/will deal with seudo fiction.
Whats up with that stupid letter p in any word?

The pictures will be presented. Later I will see how I put without much cruelty to
our national idiosyncracy, what a word ah? But with no remorse, at all, believe me
all my life having to accept somewhat the national stupidity, that in your country, in
one of those five continents may be similar...but never equal....

To tell the truth, I am worn out. Usually I write with the ability given without the intention of being too wordy about the matter at hand. Today I went the other way,
pictures first.

If you watch closely your surroundings, perhaps you have noticed similar minor, major crimes against nature anywhere you move. Either walking or driving. Now
if you add all the stupid, careless maintenance to landscape installations by municipal employees or the fellows in the 'green industry' or property owners, and you add a tally; the destruction is immeasurable.

For that reason, I have written many words about the subject. Pictures speak for
themselves, sometimes my words may have seem exagerated, angry, illogical, unreasonable to many, particularly the island fools who are so proud of their ancestry, blind to accept that ignorance is not an excuse in a court of law.

I repeat. Environmental Criminals should be put in prison. Those cultivating TURF
PALMS for sale, should be treated in the exact manner as tobacco companies. MAKE THEM pay for their destruction of our environment and the one caused by keeping those unhealthy, lacking aesthetic values, polluting gardening/cultural, customs!

GRATITUDE AND THE AVERAGE JOE SIX PACK

2009-06-06T03:14:00.000-07:00

THIS almost daily adventure started with one thing in mind. To denounce false prophets, foreigners and natives, preaching lame slogans about the importance of
the ENDEMIC. This simpletons, some with college titles, others, sheep
following their shepherd, repeating his mantras.

There were too many holes in the net. NO inventory for flora and fauna
before the total destruction of 15 acres took place. Perhaps and much worse
no soil analysis. ALBERTO ARECES MALLEA phd, is the intellectual author and
environmental criminal in Parque Donha Ines and Fundacion Luis Munhoz Marin.

I do not feel the urge to define endemic, is the same anywhere. But endemic is not
just used to limit, exclude, since naturally covers the whole scheme in the environment. Endemic are not just trees. That is the alucinating error of this Cuban
fool and native followers.

In his plan for the ENDEMIC PARK, there are no endemic: ground covers, (his wife
the Olmec princess and himself), planted kentucky and zoysia grass seeds in the destroyed soil after the heavy rains carried down hill the top thin layer of this caliche soil.

There are no ENDEMIC vines, climbers, plants, bushes or anything else that grows
naturally in our ENDEMIC surroundings, planted, propagated in their nursery, or
in their improvised plan. These two scam artists brought to Puerto Rico by another....Cuban...a land grabber with over one thousand acres in the south of Puerto Rico had a wonderful idea.

That was the intention, the smoke screen...To build aeolic windmills in that dry,
desert like environment to make some millions. That area without water, is not
good for anything than flora and fauna if left alone. And ecotourism, if one can
stand the heat. Unfortunately, people with real worries and honest in this little
shitty isle, protested, stopping the absurd plan that would require even more
destruction of the environment to have...clean energy?

In brief, these two good for nothing destroyed a somewhat wild forest twenty years,
thirty years old or more...to plant their silly endemic trees, and that was that. In the process, gravel/wood, was not used for the paths, asphalt was. This way increasing erosion,
stopping the soil from getting water. Many structures were built, too many, in concrete, increasing the heat in the whole area and eliminating water absorption.

They claim to have 200 SPECIES, at a cost of over six million dollars. The funds
from private and public institutions. A couple of donors, are very suspicious, one
a CUBAN bank, DORAL and BANCO POPULAR. These two provided over two million bucks acording to Areces Mallea. Money laundering comes to mind.

I have ove one hundred species of what constitutes an urban habitat. Perhaps fifty
square feet. The way it should be: trees, vines, climbers, bushes, plants, cacti, succulents, fruit trees. It
cost me nothing except the cost of pots, 3 grafted fruit trees, some tools, fertilizers and spray bomb.
NO PALMS, TURF OR HEDGES. A waste of time, energy, money. Too much
organic waste created in maintenance, in addition to noise, pollution, gas, oil or
propane.

What about gratitude? I want to express it. To all those who come here, read,
whatever I have put in place, and left, leaving a comment or not. I am glad this
blog reaches some people in FIVE CONTINENTS. To all of you that may share views, ideas, concepts regarding the environment, ecology, nature, landscape maintenance, plant collection and propagation. THANKS!

What about the stalker? Thanks to you too jerk! It seems that in a bizarre manner
your bizarro blog, your scorn, stimulates my productivity. On the other hand, this
humble blog is validated by almost 3 thousand readers coming by.

Perhaps one day, when you decide to be yourself, you could express gratitude also, for all the money you have made, ENVIROMENTAL CRIMINAL. Almost forgot, it also helps if you go to your true vocation, education?, instead of PALM/GRASS, plant boniato, yeyomalanguiyautia, smallponddwarfpatriarch? May god forgive you.

I WAS ONCE INTO BODYBUILDING

2009-05-21T14:28:00.000-07:00

When I was a skinny, ackward adolescent circa 1967, I got into the practice of lifting weights, not necessarily with the Charles Atlas advertisement in mind or religiously. It was just a certain discomfort with the construction of my muscle less body.

I got some used steel plates, bars and dumbbells. Since I had some tools, I was able to build a wooden bench with stands for bench presses, perhaps one of the boring exercises in a chest routine. My favorite exercises were those for triceps, deltoids and biceps. Having big legs I had not to worry about that part of my body. The thing is that after some time, I was no longer the same as in the beggining of this story. Some volume in my upper
body started developing and until this day, some of it, still shows below the
fat tissue.

In those early days Reg Park, Larry Scott, Sergio Oliva, Franco Columbo, and Steve Reeves of Hercules and Roman Empire films fame were among the top. Of this group, the best by a mile, an six continents was the one and only SERGIO OLIVA. But had too great defects which one was bigger
you can decide. He was black and hispanic.

Born in 1941, Oliva was a weightlifter with the Cuban team in the 1961 PanAmerican Games in Jamaica or whatever. The whole group requested
political asylum, that as you should have expected, was granted.

Lived in different USA states, with different jobs until landing in Chicago. Six years later won the biggest of them all titles in bodybuilding: MR. OLYMPIA. He was superb with twenty inches of arms without steroids, there were no such drugs then. The most symmetric, massive body in my opinion then, and now, forty two years later.

But black people do not look good in photographs. It does not matter if it is black and white photograph in which they seem negatives or color ones. It had to do with
some technical issue with films or cameras. What the hell, you all know what I mean. If this was on purpose or not is now meaningless.

After winning tree years in a row, the MR. Olympia, an AUSTRIAN fellow by the name of
Arnold Schwarzenegger appeared on the scene and that was that for Oliva. Arnold, a big, really big fellow of white skin. He had the biggest body in history of this sport? Even though Arnold was popular among judges for reasons beyond body definition, volume and symmetric proportions, in my humble
almost a habit by now, opinion, Oliva had more perfection, but there was another defect...besides the first two, he was a small fellow. Perhaps 5'10'',
at the most.

The taste in the public regarding musculature, size, definition was changing. The sport, underestimated, body builders perceived as freaks, changed. Arnold with great marketing skills changed all that..But I am not getting into that, do your own research. And will not mention those real
circus freaks: women bodybuilders.

This is the Antigonum Cajan bodybuilding story. It was fun. Got a chance
of lifting with some guys, that life treated not so well and became scum bags. Fernando Monteverde and Luis Aviles, subjects of a previous anecdote, alon Juan David Hernandez from Savarona.

I just started body working recently, with a thread mill and stationary bycicle.
Perhaps, god willing I will be beautiful again. But not with the desire
of showing myself around. Just to be able to weed my garden, prune the
ground covers without losing my breath. THE END.

I DREAMT THAT I WAS HAPPY

2009-05-15T04:23:00.000-07:00

LAST NIGHT, while asleep, what is written on the tittle took place. Had it had been otherwise it would have been, 'while dreaming awake'. This guy was
serving a drink putting ten times the amount of sugar/salt in it. As I told
him, (in the dream), of his measuring stupidity, he inquired: " Are you not
afraid of waking up to find that you are no longer happy"?

Well, not really. It is better to feel some sort of happiness for one minute, even when asleep, than waking up, opening my eyes and leaving the house. Cracked, uneven, dirty, noisy, streets, sidewalks,
graffiti smeared abandoned buildings, bums, junkies and so on and so forth. Mutilated trees, architecture barriers, cars parked on the sidewalks, garbage, traffic
jams, cars parked in every imaginable space. This is a nightmare. Puerto Ruido. Why did I come back to this?

But all is not lost. Yesterday, Eliezer, a pal from Savarona, from twenty years ago, or is it thirty, sent an email, a year after I gave him
my address, to have a couple. This guy is a mechanic, often smelling of
grease, was an adequate basketball player, some insight, great sense of
humor and a strange raspy voice. Dark as the night with a great smile.
One of the few, perhaps two people from the past who has made the effort
to reconnect.

It is still disconcerting the lazyness of most people to keep some friendship, distant or not. Even with emails. I have this other friend,
a guy looking pretty much as James Stewart with glasses, similar demeanor in those movies he was a lawyer..

Martin Anderson, I will call him. A civil court interpreter in Manhattan
where I used to work in the same capacity. His wife is of the oriental persuasion, China to be exact. She works in the textile industry and recently, both made a trip to the mainland and Hong Kong, that gambling, and financial meca.

I noticed that Martin in his messages only mentioned anecdotes about interpreters
he disliked or could not tolerate. Ingrid Caronia, a fat, Mr. Peanuts,
or the Michelin guy/gal, kind of morbid obese shape, who was caught in the elevator video camaras of the Civil Court in Manhattan, with the purse of another employee or theft. Instead of firing this so so interpreter, thanks to the union and all that bureaucratic crap, the thief is still working with no firing in sight. In the CIVIL COURT, believe it or not.

The other pain in the ass, with the looks of a Pakistani or Freddy Fender,
the late Tex-Mex bilingual ranchero style singer; is Pedro whatever I forgot his last name. Of early Puertorican heritage, he speaks Spanish pretty well and English as his mother tongue. The problem with this Pedro, is that never understood the CODE of ETHICS of the interpreter.

You are not a social worker, one is not supossed to advocate for the populace in court for not paying the rent, living in apartments without
the lease, or destroying, making partitions in the rented property, or if there are repairs to be made. These
are the main issues interpreters deal day to day; besides customer services regarding court orders and filing necessary documents to
avoid monetary judgements and eviction notices.

Landlord lawyers, judges, court lawyers had a dislike for him because of his constant advocacy, complicating the whole process for everyone always asuming the tennant was the victim.
Where was I? O got it...Martin Anderson.

I got to visit Martin Anderson on his nice Staten Island residence. Had more than a couple of fine beers and single malts, listened to some LP's on
his stereo, had some exquisite Chinese gastronomy at home and innumerable conversations at work, after work and so on.

When I returned to Puerto Rico, the communication lasted for some time.
It made sense since it was not a one track, meaningless sending of NAJIT communications or silly jokes as in a chain letter sent from one to another. We wrote about plants, horticulture, music, politics and other issues.

What is my beef? After I started writing the siamese blog to this one and
got a little confidence, not of my writing, but of the subject matter, I sent
the link about ten times. Without any response or mention of it. Until one day I got really irate at the indifference and inquired with the required bluntness of the situation...

The response of Martin, the so much appreciated friend? OH, I THOUGHT IT WAS A MISTAKE! Believe it or not.. That was the response
of a great person, excellent translator of the COMMUNIST persuassion, a fanatic book worm, reading ten books a week,
translator of some book, perhaps the first, about some CUBAN-CHINESE
Commander in the Angolan War during the fight for independence.

I read the book and gave my opinion...But Martin that old chap, never
had the chance, to read one of this humble blogs and offer some feedback.
Good or Bad. It that too much to ask?

Since apparently, over two thousand six hundred people have check
them out, it does not matter. Screw you Martin. Hugs and kisses for
the old times when you could relate and write besides chain letters, lame jokes and emails from NAJIT.

COUNTING THE BLESSINGS WHATEVER THAT MAY BE...

2009-05-13T03:33:00.000-07:00

I HAVE felt some bloguers block, a new coinnage. It is perhaps consequence of the raindrops falling on my head for the last nine days of MAY. There is not much to do outside, except watching the vegetation
from the distance. Or to remember, those years in New England during the fall, having some eggs, sausages, pancakes with maple syrup from Vermont and enjoying the cool, dark, gray days of melancholy.. as in a Tom Waits blues tune...Fortunately, no diseases in the garden, as in the past...

THERE are news on the isle ecoturist front. On Sunday, I made the round transoceanic trip from SAN JUAN to CATANHO CITY, in the ferry for a buck. It takes about ten minutes, you can watch buildings, salty water and some vegetation.

In Catanho, the boat terminal looks certainly thirdworldish, with lots of water leaking either from the roof, of brought to the tacky floors by the
Atlantic ocean. There are too many employees on these ferries and both
terminals. However, the noise is minimal and the boats are fast, clean.
The rubber seats with faded out paint, reminds one of some
emergency room seats in Bagdad or Tegucigalpa.

I took a nice stroll, landing in a rather big liquor store and horse betting agency. I had a couple with chasers, to celebrate this transoceanic adventure. To make the story more strange we encountered PITO, the accountant, from our bohemian meetings in Santurce.

He is not drinking, except for sour cranberry juice. Whe did chat about the
economical crisis in PUERTO RUIDO; thirty thousand public employees that soon will be unemployed. My stance on this issue is simple and clear.

The first time I herd anyone mentioning this unnecessary amount of
public employees, was probably twenty/thirty years ago. Hernandez Agosto is his name, a former senator from the RED party. I still can not believe it. Declaring to the news media that PUERTO RUIDO had seventy thousand people working
for the governement in excess, but they could not be fired, because they
are PARENTS.

SINCE I decided at fifteen not to have children, I do not know, understand, tolerate this excuse not to do something. I reiterate. THE STATE is not a phIlanthropic enterprise. The CHURCH IS, or should be in theory. In PUERTO RUIDO there are hundreds of Protestant churches,
Catholics, Jehova's, Adventists, you name it... And all these thirty thousand future unemployed are probably members of these multitude
of churches.

PARENTS seem to monopolize the atttention of the STATE. They need/want free HOSPITALS, SCHOOLS, NURSERIES, and such. When you ponder, what is the STATE doing for the single people? Except billing them more as punishment for not having children with higher income tax contributions and no exemptions?

The STATE is responsible for having created this monster of people getting impregnated unconsciusly, delivering babies left and right, expecting all the above mentioned services for FREE, nothing in return.

Padres de familia, (parents) that is the catch, pet, symbol, to make us
feel some pity for erroneous decisions from individuals, couples the community. Sorry, I do not buy that. One should be responsible for
what we decided, right or wrong.

The relation if anyone can see it, between the environment and over population growth is evident. More houses, buildings, roads, parkings,
highways, destruction of the earth... Less and less arable land...So these parents can live in a concrete house, with a postal stamp turf yard and a car parked in front.. and so on an so forth.

They expected to live happily ever after, but reality struck.

lll NY STATE COMPTROLLLERS DOMAIN 1996

2009-04-28T02:17:00.000-07:00

IN NOVEMBER, Ms. Le bron, called your humble servant to request that I pick Sonia Fonseca's computer, (another single woman in the comptrollers entourage from the Bronx) in the office at 42nd St. and Third Ave. Since I understood that I was no messenger, but an 'Information Specialist', I refused at the beginning. In the middle of the argument, wisely, I decided that not agreeing would be interpreted as insubordination by this yellow
belly bitch and went to pick up the computer.

I had to walk a couple of miles with two laptops. The intention was to leave Ms. Fonseca without her working tool. The excuse was that Pete needed it. When I inquired as to
what I was supposed to do with it, the scum bag responds that I did not matter to er. At the end of the day, I returned the computer to its owner.

The following morning, the bitch called again to inquire about the computer. I replied what is above, and this pasty fatty worm Ms. Le Bron, stated that she had not told me to do that.

Days later, the same, called Rhona Lattanzi, an auditor at her home, to do her dirty
job. Rhona told me that she would take the laptop from Pete as a favor but was not interested in getting involved in Le bron personal affairs.

This issue apparently without any relevance in the surface, has some roots. Ms. Lb,
had many hostile dialogues with Sonia Fonseca and Elba Castro, both 'special assistants to the comptroller', all three of them political appointees.

I was in the middle, and never understood. But here is another example. When Elba Castro, not a Rhodes Scholar if you ask me left the office to study for some masters degree that luckily for her was done in coop fashion, Ms. Fonseca became sort of my supervisor by sudden death.

This is the scheme of Lb to get my check signed. I would sign the time card, send it to
the 42nd St. office, have Ms. Fonseca sign it and then sended to Albany. Ms Lb was so stupid that H.Carl McCall, had to be an accessory to keep such lame, incompetent assistant, single, so close to him. After some squabble reason prevailed and things
went back to what they were. Bob Griffin the Chief Auditor would sign them and that was that..But revenge came fast. Now every request for time off would have to be faxed to Albany. Just because had some women beef with Elba Castro.

As a result of the laptop pick up mentioned earlier things started to change. Ivan Hernandez another character raised, where else? In the Bronx, who had been assigned to work with yours truly regarding press releases, refused constantly to
respond to my emails. These messages had to be sent seven days prior to any event,
however, she waited for five days to inquire if this or that had been done.

Now that I think of it. This makes no sense. Really. But is true. I have never met
such incompetent people in my life. All of them whities, negroes, and New Yorkers,
of the pr persuassion.. One anecdote will suffice. If one grows up in such a city with
so many Hebbes and their cultural, culinary influences in any direction in the many boroughs one would expect certain things to be known but no..

Check this out. We went to a famous kosher restaurant in Queens not far from the
Court. We ordered...Ivan the fool did not know kosher from tripe and after
ordering pastrami on rye, requested SWISS CHEESE... The waitress was kind enough
to define/explain to this NY City citizen, that kosher separates meat from eggs from
cheese and that is that. The end.

ll or Part Two if not fond of Roman Numerals

2009-04-27T12:02:00.000-07:00

I REMEMBER that while at work with CJA, or Criminal Justice Agency in Manhattan, a cuasi private/public agency into interviewing riff raff and others to leave jail without paying bail, one had to keep a record and on top
of the page one wrote the page number ...What was my surprise when discovering that fellow college graduates from mostly negro islands in the Caribbean and those from the Bronx and other counties did not now that lV
is four and so on... Jaha bilingual laugh...

BUT KEEPING our promise to provide fun info as those black and white old series as The Phampton and others here we go. If you forgot where you were go back quickly, I have not.

I remember that due to the lack of work in Manhattan, the lesbian, I mean
the Tomboy, Carmen Le Bron, called a meeting in Albany. Miss Le Bron, ,
Brian Bayfield, also a negro, Henry and others were present. When attempting to figure out the lack of work , it was claimed by the lilly and not so lilly white trailer rubbish material in Albany, that is was fear of documents getting lost in the trip from office to office.

HANGING OUT WITH H. CARL MCCALL AND THE NEW YORK STATE COMPTROLLERS DOMAIN

2009-04-27T06:26:00.000-07:00

THINGS WERE so so today. until the chinaman called about his refund. This caused me some anxiety, but at the end all was fine.

Jeff Resnick, the hebrew, political appointee dropped by to make his personal phone calls in our office. This bald, over fed, good for nothing,
has angered the accountants and auditors accross the hall for his habit
of listening to radio talk shows loudly. That is one reason. The other carries a lot of weight, this meat ball is making over 55 thousand bucks.
That is over ten more than CPA's and accountants in the State Comptrollers Office in Manhattan and career employees on top of that.

This fat jerk is here for political favors, or as a prize if you may. Probably collecting campaign funds for this negro Comptroller, whose wife ruined his carefully rehearsed career in banking. The wife was accused and found guilty of embezzlement. She took a couple of millions and remodeled her apartment property of HUNTERS COLLEGE or other institution in that league. The decoration was more proper for a queen than an administrator for a educational institution.

Before some fanatic of the politically correct language usage crowd, jumps, lets clarify the use of negro. In Spanish that is our word for blacks. In USA, the afrocentric fanatics coinned African American thinking not very wisely that it is a better noun for them. However fellows that I respect and
have read, such as Stanley Crouch, a jazz writer and critic, established clearly that such term 'African American' is not really useful. IT takes away from the ethnic scheme, Negros from the rest of the AMERICAN continent and erases Negroes from AFRICA. There.

Following with the original story, it is a little long. We may have to offer
it as a series...Nancy Cruz called to say hi. Our sources have informed that
Carmen Le Bron, the tom boy, another single woman in Mr. H. Carl entourage, was involved in a law suit for unjustified firing of an employee.
If you look at the spelling, the last name was reshaped to seem less hispanic. That inferiority complex that some of our prislanders show
in different fashion but not part of this story now.

THIS yellow belly CARMEN LE Bron was a lowly educated riff raff, certainly from the Bronx and part of Mr. H, personal assistants. My contact with the bitch, if I may was receiving her phone calls from ALBANY, to inquire about another single one, but with a child, ELBA CASTRO, also from the Bronx.

Miss Castro was never in the office, a practice of most political appointtes in Mr. H's domain. Since Miss Castro, (who miraculously), later became an ATTORNEY, was into free wheeling, without following Le Bron's commands the later thought that I will offer information to help
her cut the head of her Bronx constituent. The Tomboy thought that I was hiding something. The truth is that I did not know her whereabouts.

Her tone was abrasive, and in ultimatum mode generally. In those days
I was not connected to the computer system, yet, the bitch sent me emails
knowing that I would not be able to respond.

The names are not fictional. The years 1995-1996. The address 270 Broadway. As anything written here, true. Not embellished at all.
Until next. It is getting fun.

BLOG HARASSMENT AND THE STALKER

2009-04-10T03:03:00.000-07:00

WHEN I STARTED the siamese twin of this one over 24 months ago, the intention was to denounce and criticize. The inspiration were Alberto Areces Mallea (aka Aveces Marea) and Gabriela Ocampo. Cuban and Mexican olmeca, respectively. These two expatriates were the intellectual authors of the destruction of twelve acres of land
in Trujillo Alto to construct Parque Donha Ines with the following accomplices: Fundacion Luis Munhoz Marin, Lic. Roberto Jose Martinez Ramirez, Departamento de Recursos Naturales, Carmen Santiago USDA, Padre Fernando Pico, and Municipio de Trujillo Alto.

Without getting deep in the story already in endemismotrasnochado, the intention is to denounce, period. Later I became aware that if the fools pretending to save our environment, ecology, nature, patrimony turn the other way with this type of information and evidence (yet to be published), the scam is evident. Everyjuan seems to be benefiting from the various pork government barrels for this or that. On one hand.

ON the other, most of the funds from the private sector came from Banco Popular and Doral, food for thought.
Does money laundering comes to mind? Lets open the books! How much money
for the DI Park has the FLMM taken for itself? What is the cost of the park for each
silly endemic tree, $10,000, $20,000?

At any rate, not being a one track mind, I noticed that the " Green Industry", in Puerto Rico was/is more green regarding the USA dollars than nature and vegetation.
I started sending my resume to some of the companies doing landscaping with internet access.

Some were American Lawn, Peannock Garden, Gramas Lindas, Margo Farms and many others that once in a while appeared in the printed news media. I could write at length what I think based on observation about all these scam artists, but will concentrate in the one who has been harassing and stalking both blogs out of boredom.

I have baptized him YEYO MALANGUIYAUTIA. His apparent real last names Gonzalez Bauza, alleged agronomist and working for Gramas Lindas. How was this poor bored soul become interested in this obscure blog that not many read except in Mexico, Spain, Australia, Dominican Republic, Chile, India, USA, Argentina, and Puerto Rico USA?

Very simple. I sent a link of my blog, at the address at the end of this article, suggesting the change of the picture advertising their site. The photograph
shows grass leaves cut with a dull blade. After that, Mr. malanguiyautia started
bombarding the comment section. Something not always bad, except that he thinks too much of himself, his credentials, uses as the name of some fictional character, a Patriarch, does all I do better, much better according to his comments.

Except one thing, an essential one, creating a fresh output or not so fresh ideas when
writing. He writes better, has better pictures, is more deep, however his lame blog
a bizarro endemismo has four entries, has been visited twelve times.
All the above mentioned virtues are the ones I lack or pretend to have. Believe it or not.

I was a little annoyed at the frequent, long diatribes, more than once since my blogs are not personal. All people doing landscaping in Puerto Rico suck, I have stated
it at least on eighty articles... How can YEYO believe for a moment that is personal? ll. I attack, denounce, stupidity, lack of aesthetics, poor workmanship, destruction of the environment, tree mutilation and excessive planting without knowledge and ripping off the customer, the populace.

If one feels alluded, anyone, go to court and start a difamation suit. Cut the crap already. If I say, anything that I believe certain, prove it wrong in the adequate forum. One relevant issue is that from the beginning, Mr. Malanguiyautia, the stalker wrote as an owner of a company, not just a reader. That is why I have taken the time now after ten months of almost daily harassment to respond.

Why? Very simple. If I write that yeyo malanguiyautia is a jerk, which he seems to be,
must be, considering the stalking, he could have sent a picture of some installation done properly. But my dear fans, remember the stalking started after a suggestion to
change the stupid GRAMAS LINDAS picture. I got tired of the game. Here is their address, everyone mentioned today. Inquiries are welcome. Until then..

gramaslindas.com
yamir@gramaslindas.com
fundacion luis munhoz marin
flmm.org

REPORTING FROM THORNES MARKET NORTHAMPTON MA

2009-04-06T10:10:00.000-07:00

IT IS 4PM. It find myself at Thornes, the amount of populace, particularly lesbians is overwhelming. Today I woke up in excellent spirits. I went with Michal for a stroll in the
dear streets of Northamton. I bought a long playing. Mingus, "Immortal Sessions 1959". I
saw Julia who said hi, Gelpi the alcoholic Smith College professor whom I evaded, and Maura, to whom was given an unfriendly gesture.

I feel weird, perhaps for the fasting. The populace continues moving restless. A strange looking dude has sat in the opposite chair. Has told me that he wants to watch a Martin Luther King,
movie, but I was not being shown. I take a look at the flyer, is on the 14. As I told him, decides to return the flyer where he founded it. I better go all these crowding asphyxiates me.

9 January

I took M to work. Went home and listened to some records. Today I received some: Wagner,
Strauss, and Dvorak. I sent some letters to Gary Dibble, Luisa and Carmen Z. I have felt weird again. Today while observing some photographs from Carmen R, Karen Moreno, Luisa and Martha Jean Deveber I felt some intense guilt feeling.

Guilty because things did not work out as they may have, as in those moments of frustration I would have preferred them to develop. I forget that shit happens and I can not change what has become a remote distant past. Today at work I noticed the new schedule. Now I will have to sleep by myself. This will create some difficulties. M fills my mornings of contentness and offers me some tea or coffee or breakfast. This new journal is a pain in the ass. The pages are too wide. On the radio some jazz without head or feet. I am going to read.
12:55 AM

Next day. I was difficult to fall asleep. After returning from work I was awaken by the noise
of the little bastards upstairs. I encounter the Polish folks, Marge and Stanley. He smokes
italian cigarettes that stunk the whole house. His wife with dirty hair and greasy. When I think of their child, Jim it makes me uneasy. A guy 6' 5", carrying 350 pounds of weight.
Great difficulty to sleep at work, one never knows what to expect from these piggies. AT
4:30 AM, I placed the sheet and pillow in the porch and later at six, when getting ready to
go back home the first was by the car and the other in the driveway. The wind had blown them.

10 Monday

The telephone woke me up. An interview, which has made the day more promising. M
was unable to sleep last night and is feeling cranky. I dreamt that I had some carnal exchanges with a cousin and memories of a good friend from my days in Germany returned.
Some carnal exchange with arrivals last night.

The red conga drum is almost ready. I see what I can do to fix the blue one. I think I will buy some bond to fix the edges today.

3PM. Went shopping with M. I got the bond in my last attempt to save the blue one. The smell, color, mix, everything brought great memories from childhood. My father an autorepairman, was into his thing while I was watching close by.

This was years after the tin epoch. Then this soft metal bars were used to repair dents in auto
bodies. The gasoline bronze torche was lit, making a
sound that for a child, was pretty much like listening to a dragon exhaling flames.

The invention of bond, reduced the time required for repairs but contrary to tin, it cracked and was affected by corrosion after some time and weather exposure. Tin craftsmen into auto repairs where real artists. Their work was everlasting . To become a master, you had to practice for many years. The last time I watched my dad, working such technique was during the sixties. Shortly before he had two heart strokes. I was 15.

While I write this listening to Cesarea Evora, from Cape Verde, I wonder what is the the point of life. Living for what? To impregnate women, have families, following rules, doing what is expected from our parents? Society?

BACK TO THE STUDIO

Its one twenty am. It rains as in the tropics. ( All those years exiled I missed that sound so dearly! Not the people, not at all, just the topography, geography, the environment. Half
a life in USA..) I tried to open the storm window to get a better sound of the rain drops, without luck. However paying some attention it sounds better. Today I took M to work.
Later did some weight lifting. Between one routine and other I sanded the border of the blue
drum. It is almost perfect.

I will check to see if I can buy a leather head to mount it or fix the broken rim.

Time to go..until next. We are in the eighties or so..Northampton MA, capital of the lesbian
scene in the north east coast of USA.

Co

MOCK INTERVIEW WITH JUAN DAVID HERNANDEZ A LIVING LEGEND AMONG CITIZENS IN EL PAIS DE CAGUAS

2009-03-14T07:19:00.000-07:00

WE MET in the sixties when he started a hobby as a bass player with other fellows that I have forgotten.. They used to rehearse in the beautiful porch of their rented house on
Georgetti St. Later, Juan David became a fine acoustic guitar player and singer, as time went by. Had two sisters. One had a child from Virgilio Colon, a former elementary school class mate, who later did a masters in Philosophy, in where else? Germany. The last time I saw/chat with Virgilio, at the UPR campus in Rio Stones, he was
bitching about the stupidity of his college students, unable to abstract, as so well expressed ten years before, by former teacher with political pedigree Felix Cordova Diaz, who had expressed with same words such handicap of Puertorican nationals.

Juan David was a chubby fellow with powerful voice, weird/quick sense of humor. He used to bring me home that chitty newspaper CLARIDAD, religiously, and I paid and enjoyed it.
Particularly the graphic artists Lorenzo Homar, Tufinho, and many others involved
in the struggle for independence, against the Vietnam War, Nixon, CIA and such during that decade or twenty years.. It does not matter now. The staff of CLARIDAD ARE A BUNCH of JERKS from top to bottom, disconnected from our issue: ENVIRONMENT/ECOLOGY.

Later in college, we spent some times together, mostly at lunch. It was some puerorican
restaurant, in a corner street in the beautiful city of Cayey, where we both graduated. Tomasa del Carmen Vazquez, the judge, was then our classmate and friend. At any rate, once while having lunch, Juan David who had somewhat of an apetite, ordered some desert for gluttons. It is vanilla ' i scream' jaha bilingual laugh, with flan or top or the other way around.

Which reminds me, in English there are 3 ways to say one thing: inside out, backwards and upside down.. In Spanish we use "al verres" or ' al reves,' you pick. This is one of the few situations in which my native beats English.

Back to the studio, since Juan ordered the mentioned dessert, everyone around the table requested a nip, including Raulo Singala, whose mother was the worst Spanish teacher I ever had. His brothers became dentists and about him there is nothing I know. The solution? Juan performed some act similar to listening to a Hebbe
speaking that language from his throat.. A substance rather better not to be described now covered
the icecream/flan, that no one felt like sharing.

Hey what about the mock interview? Hollers, screams, figuratively, imaginatively some dark, obscure fans...

JUAN DAVID: I have read most of your hundred posts in endemismotrasnochado, what the hell is your intention?

KEYBOARD OPERATOR: Not much. I believe it is my responsibility to denounce and be critical. My teachers in elementary school, my parents, priests, other relatives were critical of yours truly.
It is a skill taught with fists, bitter, cruel words that many people go through in their childhood, life without realizing it. I was fortunate. I am able to focus and use the skill in the
blogosphere.

JUAN DAVID: I see. It is sort of a revenge against society, for the unjust pain inflicted?

KEYBOARD OPERATOR: To be honest, as anyone could be facing such an inquiry, I do not
give a flying fart about society, their leaders, or any authority. That was another collateral
skill from the brutality of the criticism. I am here. I have survived without any danger to myself or to others, except perhaps, my tendency to be brainy when others succumb to sentimentality, nationalism, clannish puerorican behavior.

JUAN DAVID: Changing quickly the subject, do you remember the infinitely brief moments
when we got together to play Cuban sones and sing rather sober?

KEYBOARD OPERATOR: Well Juan, before I get there let me tell you that during the last two decades I have taken the time and effort to visit you at your office in CITY HALL, every time I had the chance. You fucking ass hole never had the interest/courtesy/reciprocal attitude to send an email. Does that help you get a drift?

JUAN DAVID: Sure. That is my nature, indifference.

KEYBOARD OPERATOR: Fine Juan, we all carry our cross. But before I get there, I remember you married an ugly witch, with the exact same features of Olive Oil, Popeyes girlfriend, remember her?

JUANDAVID: Sure I impregnated her sometimes, we got divorced and she became a lawyer.

KEYBOARDOPERATOR: BACK TO THE FUTURE, well JUAN, I do remember playing the bongos when I was a little rough, and the conga drums in my backyard in SAVARONA.
I probably had some drinks of beer while you refused. But I tell you one thing, you really
had the talent with the singing/the guitar, and I miss those times that will never return,
since you are unable to send an email.
At any rate, could you end this interview with your opinion as the HISTORIOGRAPHER OF
EL PAIS DE CAGUAS, about this humble blog, endemismotrasnochado?

JUANDAVID: OBVIATING the evident rough, really rough edges of your writing, following
grammar rules, and everything in that bag, your blog is cool. Apparently, as far as I know,
the only one with the spheres to cover all that COURT. As irrelevant it may seem, I can tell from my view that eventually this blog could be used as a resource for research.

The environment, ecology, landscape management practices from the customer perspective
the illiterate employee, or the owner enjoying the profits from the destruction of our surroundings. The bored academicians jumping in the bandwagon for protagonic show. The happy plant collector, propagator...Enjoying the beauty, the smell, the growth of the effort.
This blog cover all bases. For further info...

Juan David Hernandez, HISTORIAN el pais de CAGUAS

Willie Miranda, wmiranda@caguas.gov.pr
Josefo Virtual, jvirtual@caguas.gov.pr

MEMORIES FROM THE FUTURE

2009-02-25T06:39:00.000-08:00

LAST NIGHT OUR HERO went to bed somewhat irritated as usual. Decided to check a confiscated literature review magazine from 1985. CASA LAS AMERICAS, an issue dedicated
to a wonderful, somewhat difficult to follow writer, Julio Cortazar. A strange Argentinian who
made France his country. Strange because apparently everyone loved/liked him. And we know
that Cubans from Havana and Argentinians, well... take some effort to love. I write about men,
the women may be a different story.

At any rate.. Carlos Fuentes told us a story while traveling by train to Moscow, he asked innocently to our hero, Cortazar now, why/how was the piano introduced to jazz. Those who read EL PERSEGUIDOR, may have noticed this author passion, interest, knowledge about the
genre. Any guais, it took the whole night for the Argentinian to explain without getting too technical on the explanation.

Your humble servant thought about it. What a wonderful trip it surely was, listening to someone with a nice personality some wine, guiski, cigarettes, and the clack, clack of the
metallic wheels against the rails.

A good conversation is always appreciated. Unfortunately for the keyboard operator, since
Crispin, that modersucker we thought our friend, has dissapeared. Along with Pito the other
great conversationalist from the old days, that ended in November when the timbiriche mentioned in entradas antiguas was sold.

Me cago en la ostia. NOW there is no one to talk about anything. On this shitty isle everything is everything as in that old Eddie Palmieri or was it his brother Charlie? Tune.
La Justicia is the tittle of the recording a very difficult one to listen. The sound is abrasive,
the lyrics somewhat Young Lord, Felipe Luciano like. I confess I have no warm feelings for
my ethnics growing up in NY, CA, NJ, or any other ghetto in the USA.

They embraced the negro culture as if we were Negroes also. The truth is that we are so mixed color wise, that more often, light people have dark infants with
crispy hair and wide noses. Or the opposite. Not that it matters to me. Women, as long as
they can maintain a conversation about music, drink, smoke, horticulture, literature could
be Norwegian pale or Namibian dark. I am color blind in that conquering field. Well, to be honest, when I was in that bag.

NOW I dedicate my effort, energy, intelligence, (the little I got), to critize creatively,
abrasively. As sand against the rough surface.. Or water against the stone. Time to go.

FERNANDO VERDEMONTE, LUIS AVILES, JUAN ROSARIO EL DE MISION INDUSTRIAL

2009-02-20T14:36:00.000-08:00

CONSIDERING that thirty years went by, the accidental reader will have to forget the narrator as to exact dates, incidents, adventures since some of these were/are tainted
by the use of alcohol, herb or snort late in that period. Responsibly by the way.

The story could start meeting Fernando VerdeMonte in our basketall court in Savarona. He was the first negro, the only ones to move to EL VERDE, in Caguas, a cement/cinder blocks neighborhood inspired by those cookie mold by Levitt and sons, in Long Island, New York and Pennsylvania. Everybody else was sort of white, in the Caribbean you know how it goes. Most people en El Verde, had better jobs, education, some were doctors, had their business and so on. That was in the early
seventies.

The sweet, nice mother, originally from Jamaica, not Queens, but the island in the West Indies. The father an engineer, dark handsome, without ego tripping treating us all, less fortunate friends of his children with a sense of good will without posing. They moved to the absurdly baptized Pais de Caguas, from Mayaguez in the
west of the island.

Namibia Verdemonte was their only daughter, dark chocolate, witty with a beautifull smile most of them had. Under her bra she certainly had a beautiful topography from what I could deduct, never to get a glimpse. But nothing was to develop from this early
adolescent desire. I found out from Pepota, my inlaw, that she passed away before her
time from cancer. I was a little sad. To know about her death, and the impossibility of the fantasy......

Luis Aviles, high yellow puerorican, grew up in one of the poorest shanty towns, EL MILLON, in CAGUAS. Our story teller lived in a house, perhaps two hundred meters away from the frontier, El Millon, but there were differences, real or imaginary.Three anecdotes are worthy to mention about this peckerhead.

He had no respect for private property. Once, during a basketball match in Villa Blanca, another cinder block housing project in the outskirsts, stole my bycicle
without any concern, returning it days later. Years went by, now both in college, he took me to his room, in some government housing, (project) to show off a pound of marihuana he got to sell.

We smoke a couple of spliffs... But yours truly had not much fun, thinking of the amount of years behind parallel bars I could get for being with the bastard, and such
amount of ganja in the seventies.

The last time our narrator saw LUIS AVILES, at the office of Dr. Hector Davila, this
yellow belly pretended not to see us. The doctor is a soft manered, well educated fellow, with great knowledge of music and other things, that our narrator met when he was fourteen or so. Tato, as his friends call him was developing young local basketball players in Caguas. After some time practicing they traveled to different and faraway towns to play in single elimination tournaments. From those years he always remembered the two essential rules. Shoot when alone, play as a group.

Almost forgot the third anecdote, Luis Aviles, also a teacher, was known for smoking herb with his classroom students at the school he was teaching at that time in GURABO CITY.

At any rate, Aviles, from el Millon, married Toyota's sister and procreated
some. Toyota got such nickname thirty years ago. His head got tremendous proportions and his eyes.. You got it..just like a Japanese. This fellow was a nice character. Great sense of humor, besides his unbelievable skills dribbling, shooting with both hands, the most beautiful jump shot from that era.

Well there was another guy, with a weird sense of humor, always mocking everyone/everything. TATY, was his nickname. Brother of Nestor and El Lobo, an abrasive, unfriendly mothersucker.
Nestor passed away in a tragic confrontation with one of Luis Aviles worthy constituents from el Millon. It took place in our basketball court right by the catholic
chapel.

I was in sixth grade when it all happened.. Since the fellows from el Millon, except
Aviles were into horses, not basketball, they passed their time throwing glass bottles
in our court, no longer there. An argument erupted. Rene el Pirata, got a baseball bat
that the murderer took away from him, striking Nestor in the head. It was the second
peer death from those far away times.

Taty, to finish the story was the only one, since
Nestor was also one of the great players, to compete with Toyota skills wise. Even
though more than thirty years have gone by, those matches in SAVARONA, still come
live. The heat, the sweat, no Gatorade, plastic bottled water then, just water from the faucet.

Day after day, hour after hour. Practice, shooting, playing. There were no roofed basketball courts then. When it rained that was that. More than once there were hard falls
on the slippery surface. Nowadays there seems to be UGLY aluminun under roof courts with the appearance of chicken coops anywhere, but you hardly see anyone playing.

And what about Juan Rosario? Well that is a certainly weird, really weird fellow since he was young. Like Verdemonte, a chess fan, all of them were into it. I was the worst.
He is sort of the POPE in mision industrial, in Puerto Rico, never answers the email,
important as he is. Once in a while one will catch a glimpse of his mug, unkept beard,
hair, with the appearance of some cave man preacher from yesteryear in the newspaper or tv news.

All the names have been changed to protect the innocent, and mostly bastards named
here. Well, actually is about fifty/fifty. In a tribute to SAVARONA, the MECA of Basketball in el Pais de Caguas, during 1960-1980.

DO NOT SHOOT THE KEYBOARD OPERATOR

2009-01-03T16:21:00.000-08:00

THE TRUTH IS, a little difficult to divulge. What he intended
was to name the blog Isla de Mierda, because when he was around 15, took a morning trip from his home town to Rio Piedras in
a publico. A crowded van used in most of the third world for
transportation. The heat was easy to imagine with fourteen people
in a vehicle for eight. The radio was all the way up and the
natives prone to start a collective monologue, chit chatting as loud
as the radio, with constant whining and bitching.

If you are allergic to noise, close contact with people one can
imagine his wild thoughts regarding these matters. But there was
something more irritating, nauseating. Watching the vegetation turned upside down, showing its roots, smashed bark, trunks all mixed with soil in huge piles.

It is progress. Highways left and right, houses, hospitals, schools. But mostly houses and highways. The soil looked as
many animals at the butcher's with the skin off. An image that
kept appearing during for half a life in the island.

Doldrums? Well, I asked about it. Only ships with sails can be
affected with such calm, lack of wind. That is exactly the point.
Takes a little imagination, since islands do not float except those
made by the ugly aboriginals from Bolivia in Lake Titicaca, or
juatever. An island where nothing happens. Nothing.

WHY not move to Germany? Sure, because one likes order, quiet, instrumental music, preferably any kind without words, to
be on time, expecting public clocks/train/bus to be on time. That is the
response when one points out these trivial matters. But that is not all.

If you wonder why every other idiot girl with a height of five
foot four thinks of becoming a model, and even worse, there is
an academy in every corner that will accept you.

WHEN YOU state without any doubt that hunger is also a matter
of people screwing by impulse, just like cats and dogs. Why not
carnal exchanges with protection to avoid pregnancies, killing diseases?
Later, the fundamentalists missionaries drop by with the thick book under the arm pit and that is that. No more roasted pig, lobster, shrimp, dancing, miniskirts and there you have it, part of the portrait of
this Island in the Doldrums. To the already noisy atmosphere,
some more celestial screams, songs, speeches. A tiny subjective picture of the whole. Imagine it multiplied by a hundred, a million.

Or more strange. Those who are happy apparently, smiling, complacent. All is fine. We are the happy islanders, no crime,
unemployment, millions of potholes, puddles, water leaks and
well... I better go...
See you there.

RANDOM THOUGHTS CIRCA 1988

2009-01-01T03:50:00.000-08:00

In the morning, in bed until eleven. Later went to Tato's for coffee and toast. Bought that part of a hose to make water flow with different shape/strength and washed the miami, oyeme chikitico, windows for the first time in two years.

Friday

Just had breakfast. I have the feeling this blog is going to be more fun than others since while
I translated these old journals without any rigorous order, other actual ideas may arrive in
a flashfront. At any rate, I checked out the local newspapers deciding not to buy them. Coffee and toast. Later bought some ear rings for Tula to see what she thinks.

My state of mind feels a little weird, since what I feel for Juana sometimes is pretty much like anger, but without any violence and often pity, loneliness and sadness, perhaps she
feels the same guay.

The first one mentioned last night that I was acting strange, when I asked how, there was no explanation. Curiously I could not say it with words. After many months without any problems,
the right eye is squinting at will again for brief periods of time, which reminded me how it came and left. This makes no sense but is good key board practice, since I am keyboardist in charge,
will not complaint. If you are reading, bear up, or pick another blog, there are just one hundred
and fifty million to pick from.

I played three billiard matches, winning two. The last one was with some inner city youth, if
you know what I mean, arrogant moder sucker, making no eye contact when shaking hands at the end, something somewhat annoying. The other players were weak, impulsive ones without
instruction. On Sunday, I will make a trip with Tula to Cano's, the best pool hall, in Isla Verde to watch players in a tournament dressed in black tolcidos.

From where I am now, I see a fat fellow nicely dressed, but looking funny thanks to his huge blimpy looks with a certain look as Bonny Cepeda. Some great pool games, with an excellent shooter, the kind tha plays with ethics, not common.

Last night Tula and I went the Arab way. When we left there were no lights anywhere around,
except Gonzalez Padin. When we entered Larry Bird and I met, a great surprise for both. Editors note. In Island in the Doldrums, albinos and blond/red haired fellows were referred to
as Larry Bird or Cano Estremera among certain people.

After the so, so food we bought some candies, watched the shitty island television, there was
no cable. Before that, Juana threw in a fit my records on the porche, while I was out. Something rather disconcerting, deciding to send her a letter. All this reminds me of other times/places in my
life, perhaps, for that reason there is no anger. I think to understand what she is going through.
However, sometimes I wonder. How do I know?

The heavy Arabic food did not settle well, It was hard to fall asleep. Woke up at three am, turning on the radio on KQ until nine pm when I failed to reach Juana by phone.

Yesterday I received a letter stating that my Veterans GI Bill was finished. The electrician repaired the0n wiring for twentyseven bucks, seems like a rip off now that I think of it. Only
a few days left for this year to finish.

Now at Tato's in Caguas, not far from the city bus terminal, nowadays a cemetery judging from
the few customers. I was surprised to see Milagros Robles, with a huge butt, little shy, almost
absent breast; probably with three, fours kids, I bet. Too many women in that bag, seems the rule, and no provider, male or not. Used to be classmates in fifth grade.

Later, by el Condado. Got no idea about the time. I went to Bell Books already, searching for
a present for Juana. We spent some time together, working in the garden, finishing in the mall.
Gave me a ride to Villa Kennedy, where the cousin Flower, was not at home. We moved to some lesbian house who was not around. Almost forgot, not finding the book I wanted, I bought one
by John O'hara for myself.

Signing off. These writings make no sense at all. But the tittle did not fool anyone. Bear up.
After all during the Latinamerican Literature Boom, some writers were known for doing just
(much better) this. Let the reader organize. Good luck.