the waiting game

Hope and Change.

I am still waiting to see Hispanics in Obama's cabinet. Will our Hillary be the closest thing to that?

senses overload

A friend of mine and I were talking the other day about how there are places that used to be hip and happening and where people interacted and contributed to the whole vibe and ambiance, and that are now full with recluse folk immersed in their cellphones, computers, iPods and the like. The whole attitude there has changed dramatically: people do not interact at all and find refuge in their electronics at a public space. That reminded me of Marc Augé's take on the non-places.

I have always wondered what people write about at coffee houses. I see people with and without webcams; some with headphones maybe trying to listen to another kind of music than the one playing at the shop, or maybe listening to chatter or a podcast. And it all depends on what neighborhood one is, they could be writing a movie script, a subversive essay for an obscure paper, or a call to "defend" marriage values at their megachurch.

I decided to give it a try, you know, to see what it feels like. I am at a Starbucks writing this post and I took a picture using my cellphone. The smell of coffee and spices lingers in the room, and I couldn't get past the pastries next to the cash register. They had to have pumpkin scones left from this morning... I try to keep my focus while sipping my gingerbread snap latte, which so deserves two snaps in a circle.

The music here is excellent, Beth Orton is in the background, so I am really glad I don't have my headset with me. I love Beth Orton, especially her stuff from the late 90s. In fact Stolen Car is one of my favorite songs, and perhaps what makes her even more special is her haunting voice that is full of melancholy and this deep sense of loss.

I have realized now after sitting here drinking my coffee and nibbling on the scone while I listen to the music and smell the coffee, that I am too perceptive to focus here. My senses are so aware of what is going on and I find it hard to write about something else than this brief chronicle. I can't stop looking at all the patrons when they come in and out of the shop, not because I am keeping control of them, but rather because of my observant nature.

This is definitely not the place where I'll come to write my best-seller. This is where I'll come for the inspiration.

america's finest

This is a view of the many new towers of condos and fabulous lofts in Downtown San Diego.
I love San Diego.

chile güerito

We stopped at a Mexican supermarket to get a few things for dinner this evening, like green onions, corn, zucchini, chiles. It is always fun to go to the produce section at a Mexican grocery store because it is full of cool, interesting shapes and colors.

.

The chile güerito, or yellow chile is cool to photograph, because it is not thin and it is not long, so I guess I can relate to that. According to the Real Academia Española Dictionary, güero is an indigenous voice that pertains to a person with blonde or light hair. It is mostly used in Mexico to refer to a person who is light-skinned, and that is what a lot of people have called me all my life: güero or güerito (its diminutive) because I am fair-skinned. Plus, I'm short and plump and definitely spicy, so a chile güerito is the closest thing to me at the produce section.

mmm... beer

Taster 6 at Karl Strauss...

The Stargazer I.P.A. was awesome :)

lower back pain

I would kill for a good back massage...

us(teddies) y n(oso)tros

Very cute... 1000 Teddies, an installation by Philipp Jordan

A Childrens Hospital Los Angeles Fund Raising Event

I wonder if there are really 1000 bears, it's a shame I'm in San Diego today...

terco, -a

adjective

1. stubborn

• terco, -a como una mula -> as stubborn as a mule

masculine or feminine noun

2. stubborn person

• ser un terco, -a -> to be stubborn

Copyright © 2006 Chambers Harrap Publishers Limited

My sister and brother-in-law own two dogs, and one of them is Terco. He's a little over 8 years old now, and more stubborn every day. This huge German Shepherd is very resourceful in finding ways to be the center of attention, like just now: he started tearing up today's newspaper, and when I told my sister what he was doing, she briefly distanced herself from watching the telenovela to say, "Oh, yes, that's his thing... if we tell them to stop, he'll keep on doing that even longer. Just ignore him, I'll clean up later."

Yes, very, very stubborn...

30 rock

Are you watching 30 Rock yet? If not, you should be.

(thanks)giving

It is great to be home: the kitchen and the TV room right next to it have been warm for several hours while it's cold and raining outside. My mom and my sister are taking the turkey out of the oven and it smells incredibly good. I have been playing around with Atkins for the past weeks, but I don't care: it is all about stuffing and pumpkin pie tonight, along with an excellent Muga and patxaran over a couple of ice cubes. The best of two worlds this evening: the traditional turkey with stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, steamed veggies and cranberry jelly, getting along with red wine and sloe liqueur from the north of Spain.

I grew up in Mexico, and even though my family and I lived in a bordertown for almost thirty years, we were never tempted to celebrate a non-Mexican holiday like many of our neighbors and classmates. That is the reason why I never got to fully understand the meaning of Thanksgiving Day.

But the past years have been very different: my sister married a great South Dakotan, my family moved to this country and I ended up here as well after my, let's call it, sabbatical in Euskadi and Catalonia, and Thanksgiving is now a staple at home for the past eight years. And it's been after these years that I've come to understand the idea of having a day to give "thanks" and remember those pilgrims who after horrible days and times managed to have a meal and say Thanks to God. Or so we read.

It is basically like Mother's Day and Father's Day or even Valentine's Day: we have a last chance to acknowledge someone --or in this case, Someone-- after we fuck up by forgetting to do so the rest of the year. It is easier this way: we have a set day to tell them what great mothers and fathers and lovers and friends they are, and Hallmark and American Greetings get richer and richer from selling printed paper with witty and corny remarks.

We should understand Thanksgiving Day as every day we live. It doesn't matter if you give thanks to a superior being or not, but be grateful for what you have every day. Then, the turkey and the fixings and the wine and the liqueur will become a great reward to us instead.

But since I am talking about being grateful and giving thanks, here are a few of things I am grateful for: my family, my friends, my job, the house where I live, the car that I drive, los diez décimos porque ya nos toca, my good luck, my good health, my good opportunities. Also, I am grateful to: DIosito, my dad and my tía Ceci.

It is great to be home, and mostly, to be away from work. Oh, yes.

THANKS!

thanks, obama!

Damon Winter/The New York Times

craps... no more happy star bingo

At a Carl's Jr. restaurant in Gardena, CA

please give to the venice family clinic

There's No Place Like Home (A Medical Home, That Is) When Rosalinda first limped through the doors of Venice Family Clinic, in 1999, her hands, knees, and feet were deformed, slowly knotted by years of uncontrolled rheumatoid arthritis. She was 50 years old and had certainly tried to find health care previously but, being uninsured, had been unable to receive consistent medical attention. Hers could have become another health-care-access horror story, and likely would have if she hadn't found several advocates, beginning with Catherine Charouhas, NP, one of Venice Family Clinic's staff nurse practitioners. As soon as there was an opening, Charouhas referred Rosalinda into Venice Family Clinic's rheumatology clinic, run by volunteer rheumatology fellows led by Michael Weisman, MD, from Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. Rosalinda now had access to primary care as well as the specialty care she so badly needed, and soon her pain and inflammation were under control. In the bigger picture, she had finally found a medical home, and this would eventually prove to be lifesaving. In early 2000, during a routine screening, Charouhas discovered a lump in one of Rosalinda's breasts. The biopsy showed cancer. Within 24 hours, Venice Family Clinic's cancer detection staff enrolled Rosalinda in a special breast cancer treatment program available through Medi-Cal, the state Medicaid program, and she had a lumpectomy at Santa Monica-UCLA Medical Center. The program also covered chemotherapy and radiation treatment. But her Medi-Cal coverage was only good for one year. What would happen after that? What if she had a recurrence of cancer? Her oncologist at Santa Monica-UCLA Medical Center, Melanie Shaum, MD, said not to worry. She promised to stick with her. Several years later, a dentist discovered a red spot on Rosalinda's palate and suggested she have it checked out. Yet another volunteer, Chester Griffiths, MD, FACS, an ear/nose/throat physician and a member of Venice Family Clinic's Board of Directors, performed the biopsy. This one showed Rosalinda had lymphoma. Dr. Shaum called the Clinic's Medical Director, Karen Lamp, MD, and offered up a deal. If Dr. Lamp could secure the diagnostic procedures – a bone marrow biopsy and a PET scan – then Dr. Shaum could get the treatment donated. Dr. Lamp knew such expensive diagnostics were normally not available free of charge, but she and the Clinic had a long-time friend in Nathalie Orloff, MD, a pathologist at Saint John's Health Center. Working with the Saint John's community benefits coordinator, Dr. Orloff was able to quickly arrange both the biopsy and the scan. As promised, Dr. Shaum followed with chemotherapy. Rosalinda completed her treatment and is now lymphoma-free. Some might say she beat the odds on cancer, but she may have beaten even longer odds in simply accessing care. She succeeded because she found more than just a medical facility. So what, then, is Venice Family Clinic? It's a physical place, yes, but it's also a community – over 1,500 volunteers, plus local hospitals, labs, radiology firms, medical schools, and partner agencies. They get involved because they know how much it means to patients like Rosalinda. They stay involved because they learn how much it means to them, too.

Save this Date! The 30th anniversary Venice Art Walk & Auctions arrives May 16 & 17, 2009. Donate Now • Make a general donation. • Sponsor a child to attend the Children's Holiday Movie. • Artist Cards are in stock! • Commemorate birthdays, anniversaries, and graduations with Tributes. In-Kind Donations Wish List • Clothing for women, men, children, and babies • Durable medical equipment, including wheelchairs • Dietary supplements, such as Ensure and Boost • Sorry, no medications, furniture, or automobiles Contact Carole Webb at 310.664.7906 The Clinic Needs Volunteers! Medical specialists, translators, events associates, and more… Contact Ingrid Trejo at 310.664.7532.

	Providing free, quality health care to people in need through eight sites in Venice, Santa Monica, Mar Vista and Culver City Venice Family Clinic 604 Rose Avenue, Venice, CA 90291, 310.664.7910, vfcinfo@mednet.ucla.edu

Please visit their website and make a donation and/or volunteer, thank you.

imagery

Gotta love the graphic design...

10-hour parking for the price of 9 hours

In Santa Monica. Whoo-hoo!

tingle bells

Well, we got the official announcement of my department's holiday party this year. Considering that last year's non-party consisted of Asian Chicken Salad, lumpias, pancit and dessert from Costco and Sam's Club, the one this year sounds promising (catering!), and oh, what fun it is to drive 70 miles for that. Talk about tingle bells... and balls.

What better spot than somewhere by San Bernardino International (SBD), sans the fab learjet (the apricot scarf is optional). SBD is full of exciting features, like filming opportunities, and its landing fees are well below LAX's (which is 10 miles away from work, and about 22 from my house): $1.00 per 1000 lbs vs. $2.84 at LAX for passenger flights. Methinks it is just the perfect solution to decent partying during this recession. It has to be. And for those arrivistes who can afford --and, OMG, can't wait!-- to spend their big bonuses, you can end the evening in fashion: irresistibly chic Palm Springs is just 35 miles away from SBD!

$20.00 says they will serve egg nog.

protecting minority rights

Interesting opinion in The Christian Science Monitor about Proposition 8 and how it affects us all.

¿cenizas, o copos de nieve?

Or in English, ashes or snowflakes? They keep falling down and covering everything.

These are some images of Long Beach now that we've had these fires around us. The skies have been covered with a thick layer of smoke and the air quality has been horrible.

tainted food and prop. 8

Perhaps some of you know, have heard or read that a few owners and/or managers from different food establishments contributed money to pass Proposition 8 in California. We've read about the owner of El Coyote Restaurant in Hollywood, also about Richard Cross, the largest franchisee of Burger King in Southern California --which kinda makes sense because if you patronize Burger King, there is a huge chance you voted for Prop. 8 based on the exit polls.

These are some other restaurants involved in this:

• T-Bird Restaurant Group - Exclusive rights to franchise Outback Steakhouse in California. CFO Mikkel Christensen donated $2,000.
  
• Yard House - Restaurant Partner ("Owner"), Executive Chef Carlito Jocson donated $100.
  
• Real Mex Restaurants - Steven Tanner, CFO, donated $500.00 Restaurants under their belt include all: El Torito, Chevy's and Acapulco, as well as smaller concepts Las Brisas, Casa Gallardo, Who Song & Larry's, and El Paso Cantina.

All these examples can be verified easily.

El Pollo Loco is also in the mix for alleged contributions to Prop. 8, but I knew that a place called The Crazy Chicken would not do this, so I kept on searching online. What I've been reading is that EPL had nothing to do with this, but the owner of several of its franchises in Southern California.

This closet-case is Roland Spongberg, president of WKS Restaurant Corp: he owns some of the EPLs around here and one in Palm Desert, four Denny's (one of them in beautiful Fontana) and will open 15 new Corner Bakery Cafes in the Phoenix area. Here is a list of the EPLs he owns, and also a list of his political contributions to Mitt Romney and Dubya.

They have clearly showed us that they are not for Equality, so PLEASE, get your chicken, your beer, your watered-down margaritas and your steak and shrimp on the barbie somewhere else. Thanks!

here I go again...

Okay, so I've decided to give this another try. Besides, I'm in a completely different state of mind than three and a half years ago, as well as more experienced and seasoned. Let's not forget that: I am aging well. I like this affirmation.

This is a new journey that I start today to the end of Line 7, my final destination. That is why I've changed the name of the blog from el verbo encarnado to Línea 7 al Tibidabo. L7 is part of the Barcelona Metro FGC network, or xarxa in Catalan, and it runs northwest from Plaça Catalunya to Avda. Tibidabo. Why this line out of the other ones? Well, I do like number 7, but this line has a deep meaning that is very close to my heart, possibly because I have never been on it, probably because I long to ride on it, everyday.

Don't think that my posts will be about Barcelona or L7, they will be about my random everyday thoughts. I ramble a lot most of the time, and I think I get less and less pessimistic about things --part of maturing--, so I think my posts will be entertaining. I hope you enjoy them, and you know how to find me to comment about anything in them or anything at all for that matter. Thanks!