Author: David Diego Rodríguez, Ph.D.

I teach Spanish and I am a standup comedian.

Westminster Abbey


William Shakepseare, Westminster Abbey, London, England

As you may have gathered from reading my blog, I am a voracious reader. I’m mainly enjoy reading fiction, but I will read almost anything. I even read candy wrappers I see on th ground.

I especially love to read novels. The novel to which I can most relate, although it is not my favorite, but I have read it four times, is Jude the Obscure, by Thomas Hardy. Jude, the title character, tries to compensate for his lack of a forma education by immersing himsef in books that will provide him with a good education. For the longest time, I lacked a formal education, so I read all the books that would constitute a sound educational background. I also read the complete works of William Shakespear on my own. Eventually, I went back to school and majored in English.

As an English major, I discovered that I had already ready many of the required readings on my own. However, I did add more authors to my reading list of books read. I enjoyed reading the biographies of the authors I read. I soon discovered that many of them had something in common: They were all either buried or memorialized in Westmister Abbey. Back then, I thought I would enjoy going to Westminster Abbey to make a connection with those writers, but I never thought that would be possible.

Well, I have reached that point in my life where I was able to go to Westminster Abbey. I have never done much international travel, other than to Mexico to visit my family. My wife and daughter wanted to go to Rome last December. I was reluctant to go to Rome, mainly because of our language barrier. I suggested that we go to London, mainly because I was an English major and I speak English. My wife and daughter agreed.

My wife’s friend told she should prepare for the trip to England by watching the TV series The Crown. I realized then that I was doing it all wrong! I was watching Mr. Bean and Benny Hill!

So there we were in London, England, the birthplace of the English language. The streets were filled with lots of tourists, very few of whom were speaking English. But I have finally arrived at Westminster Abbey! I was enthralled, motivated, and inspired by being in the presence of so many great minds! I saw the names of many of the writers I had read. I had read most of them! Except for William Longfellow, Henry James, and T.S. Eliot, they were all English.

I took pictures of almost all the writers. Here’s a list of the writer’s whose name I saw at Westminster Abbey and that I had read at least once, in no particular order:

  • Geoffrey Chaucer
  • John Dryden
  • William Shakespeare
  • Thomas Stearns Eliot
  • Alfred Lord Tennyson
  • Robert Browning
  • Henry James
  • Robert Browning
  • Wystan Hugh Auden
  • George Elit (Mary Ann Evans)
  • Lewis Carrol
  • Oscar Wilde
  • Ted Hughes
  • D.H. Lawrence
  • Edward Lear
  • Wilfred Owen
  • Ben Johnson
  • Edmond Spencer
  • Jane Austen
  • Charlotte Bronte
  • Emily Jane Bronte
  • Anne Bronte
  • Samuel Johnson
  • Rudyard Kipling
  • Thomas Hardy
  • Charles Dickens
  • C.S. Lewis
  • William Blake
DDR

The two longest Chicago games


I’m a Chicago sports fan!

I was having lunch with my son Alex and my brother Danny when I thought that we should go to a baseball game. And I can tell you the exact date of our lunch. July 29, 2014. You will learn why I remember the exact date as you read on.

Anyway, we’re having lunch and I suggest that we go to a baseball game. I believe the only Chicago baseball team playing that day was the Cubs. My son and I are White Sox fans, but we’re not anti-Cubs fans. In fact, we’re Chicago fans! My brother Danny really isn’t into sports but has gone to baseball games with us as a family. So, I suggest that we go to a Cubs game that evening.

My son agrees, but Danny immediately says no. He says, “The last time I went to a baseball game with you, it was the longest baseball game ever!”

Then I remembered. It was my birthday and my youngest brother Joey suggested that we go to a White Sox game for my birthday. We went on May 8th because my birthday was the next day on May 9th. So, we, my father, brothers Danny, Jerry, Rick, Joey, my sister Delia, and I went to the White Sox game on May 8th , 1984.

Well, the game went into extra innings with a tie score and at midnight, the officials suspended the game to be continued the next day. We returned to Comiskey park the next day, my birthday, May 9th. The game finally ended when Harold Baines hit a homerun in the 25th inning for the White Sox victory of 7-6. This was the longest baseball game ever; it took 8 hours and 6 minutes to complete. And the regularly scheduled game for that night also went into extra innings!

Flashforward to our lunch with my son and brother. Danny says, “I don’t want to go to another long baseball game!”

“What are the odds of that ever happening again?” I asked. He still refused to go with us. “You’re going to miss out on a good game!” I said.

My son and I went to the Cubs game that night. You’ll never guess what we witnessed! The longest Chicago Cubs game in club history! My brother Danny called it when he refused to go to the game with us.

Well, the game lasted 16 innings and ended at 2:00 A.M. after 6 hours and 27 minutes of play. I texted my brother and he was joyful that he didn’t come to the game with us! I was ecstatic that I had witnessed the two longest baseball games in Chicago history.

A couple years ago, my son Alex told me that he really didn’t believe me about the longest White Sox game ever. But then he saw the replay of the game on TV. I didn’t watch the game, but I told him that the game ended when Harold Baines hit a homerun. It was only then that he believed me.

DDR

Duke


Duke, 2509 W. Marquette Road, Chicago, Illinois 60629

My wife keeps asking me which was your favorite dog? And I keep answering, “Duke!” She thought I would say Pluto or Earl, but I have very fond memories of Duke.

Pluto was my wife’s dog that she bought years before we married. So Pluto was actually my step-dog. I loved Pluto a lot, but I kept recalling Duke everytime I played with Pluto. I took such good care of Pluto that he soon was promoted to my dog from step-dog. My wife was a little jealous. Pluto lived to be 18 years old. My wife was very distraught at Pluto’s passing.

She insisted that we get another dog, but I liked not having to walk or care for a dog. I enjoyed the freedom to eat in peace. My wife kept insisting that we get another dog. When her birthday rolled around, she said, “If you get me a dog for my birthday, you won’t have to give me any other birthday presents!” Reluctantly, we went to PAWS Chicago to adopt Earl, a rescue dog from Austin, Texas. I can only imagine why they named him Earl. Probably because of the troublemaker from the TV show My Name Is Earl.

I must admit that I enjoy having Earl because he was easy to housebreak and he is a lot of fun to have around. My wife loves Earl so much that she says that Earl is the best dog she has ever had. So my wife asks me, “Is Earl the best dog you have ever had?” I think about it for a while, and then I remember Duke. I say, “Duke was the best dog I ever had.” My wife is surprised and disappointed by my response.

Well, Duke was a stray street dog that found us in 1970. We lived at 4405 S. Wood Street and we attended Holy Cross School at 4547 S. Wood Street in Chicago. My brothers and I always walked to and from school together. As the oldest brother, I was charged with the safety and welfare of my little brothers while our parents were at work.

One day on our way home from school, we see a dog standing on the southeast corner of 45th and Wood Streets. He looks friendly and he waits until we reach him. We pet him for a while and then we continue walking home. Surprisingly, Duke willingly follows us home. At home, we didn’t bring him into the house, but we did give him a bowl of milk with bread in it on the back porch. We play with him in the backyard until my mother came home. My mother doesn’t believe us when we tell her the dog followed us home. She orders us to to take the dog out of the yard and close the gates so he wouldn’t come back.

The next day, we’re walking home from school again, and we see the dog waiting for us on the corner. We pet him and then start walking home. The dog follows us home again. We feed him and play with him in the backyard until my mother comes home. Again, she orders us to get rid of the dog and we do.

That weekend, I went to Divine Heart Seminary for a visit to see if I was interested in attending the seminary. I learned that I wasn’t interested at all. When I returned home, we were eating dinner when I noticed the dog was under the table. I was very surprised to see him in the house because my mother was adamant that we would not have a dog! I asked my mother, “What’s he doing here?” She said, “He’s our dog now!”

DDR

California Dreaming


Cloudgate

I have always enjoyed going to California, but I’m always happy to come back home to Chicago. I lived in California for three years while I served in the United States Marine Corps. I was tempted to move to California after my honorable discharge, but something didn’t feel right. The people were friendly. The weather was nice.

However, I was also discouraged by the natural disasters: droughts, floods, fires, and earthquakes. Not to mention all the serial killers. But those were the least of my concerns. I just didn’t feel like I fit in, but I wasn’t sure why. So I decided to come back home to Chicago.

My sister and my sister-in-law now live in southern California. Everytime I visit them, they try to convince me to live in California. They tell me that I would love living in California. I remind them that I had already lived in California for three years when I was in the Marines.

I wondered what it was that I didn’t like about California. I finally figured it out. No one had any family out there. And everyone I met was from somewhere else in the U.S. I think that’s why my sister and sister-in-law always try to entice us to move there. They have no family there.

When I lived in California, 1978-1981, No one I knew had family there. I went to a few parties and no had any family members present. They were from somewhere else and they moved there on their own. Most people moved because they like the moderate weather. Me? I liked the weather, too, but I had no complaints about the hot Chicago summers or the freezing cold Chicago winters. I was fully acclimated to living in Chicago.

Thinking back, what I really loved about Chicago was the fact that we are so family oriented. In high school, I would visit my friends and I would get to meet some, if not all, of their family. Totally different from California. I like going to downtown Chicago hearing someone from my past calling my name. If I go to a party, many times I will meet friends and maybe their parents or even grandparents. I like being surrounded by people I know even I don’t see them often.

I think that’s why I felt like I didn’t belong in California. No one really had a long-established connection there. Maybe I’m just too parochial. So when I go to California, I go visit the people I know there. I go to a party or two, but there is only one generation of each guest. No one has family roots there. At least, not the people I meet there.

After all these years, I realize that I feel right at home in Chicago!

DDR

95.1 degrees


That’s close enough to 98.6

What is the normal body temperature? 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. Right? Well, I’m not always normal. At least that’s what I learned when I was transferred to Camp Pendleton, California, and I went to the medical section. My temperature was 95.1 degrees.

In the United States Marine Corps, we had to have a physical exam every time we were transferred. I was examined many times by doctors and nurses since the first day I enlisted. We were examined before we left Chicago for boot camp. Then we were examined when we arrived at boot camp. Then we continuously went to the medical section to get a battery of vaccines in case we were ever deployed overseas. I was examined again when I arrived in 29 Palms, California, in the middle of the Mohave Desert.

When I was in the Marines (1978-1981), I went boot camp at MCRD San Diego California. Then I was stationed at 29 Palms in the middle of the Mohave Desert for one year while I attended electronics school. Needless to say, the weather is “warm” year-round. I was surprised to learn that I would be stationed in the middle of the Mohave Desert to train for electronics repair. 29 Palms in the desert does not sound extremely exciting, even if they said there was a girl behind every tree. Plus, there weren’t many trees at the base!

I was stationed there for about one year while I studied for my MOS of 28 something or other–I can’t recall the rest of the number now. I learned electronics and how to repair the field radio PRC-77. There wasn’t much entertainment on base, and daylight hours were usually hot. You know how they say, “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity”? Well, when it’s 120 degrees, it’s extremely hot even without the humidity! And they had heat warnings with different colored flags. The only one I remember is the Black Flag: Do not go outside for anything!

Luckily, I enjoyed reading and running. So, when I wasn’t in class or studying for class, I would read or run a lot. I also started writing regularly. I had started running in high with the cross country team. I wasn’t very fast and I didn’t have much long-distance endurance, but I really enjoyed running! Since I arrived at base in December, the temperaure was usually in the 90s when I went running. I ran six miles almost everyday, which was the distance I ran before going to boot camp. As the thermometer continued to climb, I kept running, acclimating to the heat. Almost everyone thought I was crazy for running, not just because of the heat, but also because no one required that we run. So I kept running even with the Black Flag warning. The runs were challenging and I did have to drink a lot of water afterward. I was so proud of myslef because I was the only runner–strike that–the only living being outside in the sun in the afternoon. I though I had acclimated exceptionally well to the desert and its heat.

One day, on one of my runs, I felt like I was running in slow motion, but I completed my six miles anyway. When I returned to the barracks, I drank water from the water cooler repeatedly for about ten minutes. I felt very dehydrated, I must have drunk about a gallon. One of my fellow Marines saw me drinking water, and asked me, “You didn’t go running today, did you?” I nodded my head yes. He said, “Are you crazy? Today the Mohave Desert broke the record for the hottest day. Death Valley Desert did, too!” No wonder I felt hot!

So, when the medical section at Camp Pendleton is shocked that my temperature is 95.1 degrees, they ask me how I feel. I tell them that I feel fine, but they don’t seem convinced. They take my vitals again. My temperature is still 95.1. “Did you drink cold water recently?” the nurse asked. “No,” I replied. They asked a lot of questions about how I felt at the moment asked me questions about my family’s health history. They were mistified.

The nurse made a few phone calls about my “condition,” but I couldn’t make out the whole conversation. Previously, when I tried to posit my theory as to why my temperature was so low, they cut me off. They were the medical experts! They asked me if I was trying to get a medical discharge. Of course, not!

Finally, about thirty minutes later, they took my temperature again. 95.1 degrees! “Why do you think your temperature is so low?” they finally asked. They had no explanation. I explained that I had lived in the Mohave Desert for the last year and that I had acclimated to the desert heat very well. They just shook their heads. I told them that I had run six miles almost everyday for the last year, no matter how hot it was. That sounded impossible to them.

They made a few more phone calls. They wrote some notes in my medical folder. Finally, they told me, “Go back to your unit.” The ordeal made me question what is normal? No one has ever accused me of being normal. Whatever that is.

DDR