20.5.4
62 Spring - 2 Moon
48th year of the Space Age
Tijuana, Baja California
20 de mayo 2004 62nd day of Spring 2nd day of the Moon 48th year of the Space Age omaigad another long, long day but thank God it's a fun crew to work with.
Oh it's hustle hustle hustle everybody pitch in and work and then Eddie has the delightful sense of humor to tell me this is THE SLOW TIME!!!!!
Heh. Ran into refried David on the way home and he said to tell Eddie hello, and that he had read my diary yesterday where I rather rudely complained about him not writing more and gently informed that I should know he does go home and does write and does work on his fiction and... well... that is good news for me and those of you who miss his posting but... we miss his posting.
Post. There's an interesting word. Not writing. But posting, as in posting a letter, posting a notice on the wall or tree trunk or power pole, posting a diary entry, or, to use the de la mode word, blog. Web-log, we blog. I blog you blog we all blog for Ice Blog. By the way that picture of the giant arch downtown, looking up the old street from the bridge, was shot by refried David a couple years ago and then severly cropped and edited by Phil Relmond into the little graphic you see now.
THIS IS THE FIRST Time in a long time I am just posting online straight from the horse's brain without working on some kind of rough draft in hand at home or on a bench in the park or wherever. Well, not the first time, I did the same yesterday even though I had a few notes I wrote at lunch those were only two or three lines and I added most of what I said, usually I have written on sheet after sheet of paper and then cut much of it.
But now I can see the new pattern developing. I come home from the job on the other side, in the U.S., and get off in downtown Tijuana and walk to the cafe on second street...
just over
on the right s e e...
Today at work I met Katrin who interviewed Eddie last year for the job and works in marketing with the company. Was immediately enchanted by her aura, a mix of charm and je ne sais quois... comment peut on dire... muy demi-punque pseudo Caliswedish or Italian blonde model possiblemente absolutamente spoiled-chic mixed with a hint of sharp horse-sense I wanted to just sit and chat but after ten or twelve words I knew I had to go back to work like she agreed to learn more but ah what a breath of fresh air and cool water mmmm don't be rude Daniel you're showing your jealous age. Ah youth, tis wasted on the young... so you're a writer, too, she asked. Oh-oh, busted now I don't want to tell you where my page is; Oh, she smiled, I can find out anything on the internet. Well, in that case, I said, already imagining how to sharpen the doublentendre and whether to tell her about just do a web search for Tijuana gringo so I did. And lo and behold she reached up, grabbed the customer sign in sheet and tore a piece of paper off of the log where they log in to pick up their will call books printed from harvested forests that we leave out front and I thought hmmm just a little irreverent I like that and then I was leaving.
Private industry aint like civil service you know. I know. I think I like it better. At least you know where the tigers are.
Then at lunch in the blink of an eye while these thoughts roared through my brain I simply mentioned I met Katrin and Eddie said oh yes, she interviewed me, that's right. And you know, he added, at lunch (since they finally made him take lunch) I found out that people actually like being written about, and I am not sure I know how to handle that one. I did not ask him what he meant by the words "that one" especially since I made them up myself right here at the keyboard. There, Krn, you see the benefit of writing semi-fiction? I don't need to bother with reality, since "I" am creating it anyway. Grammar, too. It's a trick I learned from latinamerican writers who had to disguise themselves under military dictatorships the likes of which we won't see here for another ten or twenty years unless the adventists are right about the devil and Rome.
see there... that little yellow building up the street is where the internet cafe is now they charge twelve pesos and hour, a good price and the location is amazingly convenient and they are always always busy in the yellow two storey old building there you see up from that corner in the old postcard originally published by Dig that crazy farout planet but there the pix is currently offline, unfortunately, but we cling to the email he sent us saying we could copy it and use it, it is a real beauty, please let him put it back up... well, he has plenty of other good ones up, beautiful old postcards and old photographs sigh those were the days my friend we thought they'd never end but then the stock market crashed and alcohol became legal again in the U.S. and the reform minded President of Mexico outlawed casinos and shut down the Arabian nights Moorish Spanish palaces of gambling that had been built during the roaring twenties in Ensenada, in Rosarito Beach, and at Agua Caliente in Tijuana....
There is another good site for viewing old Tijuana postcards located at Guajirodreams Bajamundo Galleria - our congratulations to them and we shall soon be asking their permission to use the pictures even though... no... no legal arguments now, I am tooooo tired after a day at work creating corporate booklets and pamphlets of mercantile literature. I seem to have passed some kind of second-day test and...
Learned how to manipulate the computer for all the shipping programs Fedex UPS Calovernight they're easy BUT They're quirky and you know if you make one SLIP those pesky little dialogue boxes and oopsscreens pop up and flabbergast you, well not you, you're either a geek or a nerd or a babel drivel junkie or a TIjuana lover or you wouldn't be here but then after watching me manipulate the computer and wham bam cranking out the shipping lables etc, the other new guy said oh you're good at that aren't you and I stammered and could only say thank you and then maybe blew his mind when I said I don't have a computer at home I do all my driving in cafes.
Oh man I am so exhausted. I don't even feel like bitching about politics any more, which is a relief... I would so much like to write about something local, not universal heh hee haw what a jackass I am certainly not a republican.
I met the owner today during break he smiled and hesitated to interupt my private ten minutes, I smiled and said hello and then we each went our way, but not until I saw the message coming out of his eyes oh, you must be the other new guy; I could also feel two things about him, power, and that he is a gentleman. Not a bad first impression. I like working for an owner who is courteous and seems to know something about what he is doing although of course in this oligarchical world we'll never socialize unless he finds out who my family is or was, at least heh. Eddie later said yes that's basically true he's a good guy but doesn't see how the company is pinching pennies while losing dollars flowing out the door or how the sales people need to learn more about production and turnaround time and what is possible and what is not, except of course for x, y, and z and then proceeded to name some buyers who do know what they're doing but I aint going to say John Adams or George Washington or even the anti-sedition law thrown out by the supreme court no...
and look how I ended up talking about politics anyway well pooh.
Speaking of writing, when David gets back to writing on the internet - as we all hope he will - as I tried to tell him even one reader is better than make-believe no readers - then he can tell you more about it himself I just wish he would stop dreaming about publishing and just go ahead and publish. This power of the internet is in our hands right now, and if even one person stops to read, then.... But not everyone can see things my way, nor yours either.
And besides, maybe he has something going on unconsciously, playing hard to get, working up the anxiety and desire in all of us to read what he is going to publish next - AND THIS IS PUBLISHING, DAMNIT dAvId stop dreaming of universal Plato bs and get local, get real....
Speaking of bitching I was talking with Charlotte the other day and she, as usual was of course bitching about work. It is starting to look like their office might lose the murder trial they had her working background for. She was supposed to be psyching out the defense claims that the teenage brother and his friends murdered the girl instead of the lunatic drifter with blood on his clothes, and she was vetting the feminist/young woman aspect of how to fight back against the things the D.A. was expecting the defense to say... and then she paused, and I could hear her sighing on the phone, and she said, Daniel, I just wish everything were as simple as you and your damn grammar twisting and smashing behind the mask of writing poetry and prose poetry and you really said it when you said que tú escribes peorsias je je je....
I didn't tell her the latest thing David said when, quite unconsciously, he again called into question my judgement on history and geography by some blanket statement about El Camino Real damn I love arguing with that man he gives you something to sink your teeth into. But no I didn't tell Charlotte... maybe you remember the last time she went off the deep end flaming about Agua Caliente imagination etc. and David came back with the ultimate put-down and response well I hope nobody lost any sleep over it how did he know she and I sat up until three a.m. arguing until I finally said allright go ahead, write it and it was worse than anything except the stupid pile of buey manure I pulled over my polish plagiarist surgeon last August No, no, enough is enough and even I had to shut my own mouth in the view of the salt mines and San Diego bay after I said something about universal versus local realities because if truth be told I have my own bugaboos too and
and the truth is the more I get to know David and Eddie, the more I am impressed and greatful that I gaut to know people like thim in this life which is all too short lloro y me aflijo cuando recuerdo que tenemos que dejar las bellas flores, las bellas canciones....
Besides I hate sitting around with people who are so fracking boring people and neither him ain't that nope smash the grammar glass Daniel and hope my parents never read what I have done to the English language.
I hope someday D gets to meet Kent should his genie ever rub the magick lantern and bring him to Tijuana THAT would be an encounter to make the hair stand up on God's doggy back yes. Heh.
Speaking of going places Tere has hinted she would like to go to Las Vegas and I haven't been there since the ancien regime and would like very much to see the new mega resorts, the pyramid, New York, Paris, Venice, Rome, all that stuff. Maybe I should try to get a job as Dionysus, or Bacchus rather....
Naaaaa... I can't. I don't even like people drinking that much....
Tere said this morning as I left (and the damn little pinto street dog followed me all the way to the gate) but before I left my love told me she is going to a meeting tonight after work and you know a meeting after work in Mexico can go on until midnight and if it's Friday than until tomorrow sometime but I said oh, well, then I will go to the internet for a couple of hours I guess and that is exactly how long I have been here now and I want to go home it is after ten and we have another long day tomorrow.
GO HOME DANIEL
not apo strophe remember
copyright 2004 Daniel Charles Thomas