Sunday, December 14, 2008

It's My Blog and I'll Cry If I Want to

I ended up feeling a bit sorry for myself today. A few hours ago, I heard an old song that reminded me of the first year of my marriage. That hit hard. Julio Iglesias and my brand new bride were my introduction to Spanish love ballads, and to all that that means. I heard one of those songs today for the first time in more than 25 years. Oh my.


It Wouldn't Be The Same Without You
In 1975, Yolanda and I had no money and no prospects of having much of it any time in the near future. We lived in a four room house that had been converted from a small store, as evidenced by the large ceiling-to-floor-level window that stretched across 4/5's of the front of the house. The landlady was a sweetheart, though, and the rent was right for a pair of college students. The only time I've ever tasted better chicken and rice than the dishes that came out of our tiny kitchen was when I was in la cocina de mi suegra, in Venezuela. Oh my.

It was among the happiest times of my life and for about an hour and a half today, I couldn't see see how anything could ever be that good again. Oh my.

Then I read two posts on my family's bulletin board. One of my nieces and one of my nephews are both expecting their second children. And that made me feel good, very good. The prospective parents are busy thinking up names for the next little boy and little girl who'll be joining my large and wonderful family. Oh my.

And later still, I talked to my lovely daughter, a sophomore at Washington State University, who was deeply into studying for finals this week and in no mood to cheer up a sentimental old fool, even if he is her dad. Oh my.



De Ni┼ła a Mujer
And now, thinking ahead to the day when I'll be hearing from her about my own first grandchild, I guess I can see how something will be that good again. It will be different-very different-but it will also be very, very good. Oh my, oh my.



Lord, I was born a ramblin’ man
Time to move on again, I guess. This time who knows where we'll all end up.

Oh, in case you're wondering what this has to do with Access. Nothing, I guess, not a damn thing.