Category: Life

Lessons I’ve learned through the school of hard knocks. This is my catch-all, miscellaneous category if you will, where I address topics that don’t quite fit into the other categories.

Dreams


Seagulls in Galveston, Texas

Last night, I had an unusual dream. I was aware that I was sleeping and that I was dreaming. I dreamed that I was driving on the expressway at night in the rain. I look ahead and I see an accident that is about to occur. I make a conscious note to myself to move one lane away from where the accident will occur. But in my dream, I am helpless to avoid this accident. Sure enough, the accident occurs, and I sideswipe two cars. I witness the accident in slow motion. I freeze and can only observe motionless until I pass the accident. I look in the rearview mirror and I see the accident, so I know I better pull over, which I do. I get out of the car to look at the damage, somehow hoping that there is none. Well, the whole passenger side of my car is damaged. I see the police pulling up to me. Suddenly, I realize that I am sleeping, and this is just a dream. I wake up and look around my bedroom and touch my pillow and blanket just to make sure I really was sleeping. I go back to sleep knowing that I didn’t wreck my car. I have another dream. I walk up to my car, and I see the damage from my previous dream. However, I’m aware that I’m dreaming now, and about how I was dreaming before. But the damage to my car seems so real now. Later, I have another dream where I try to verify if my car was actually damaged. Yes, it was. When I woke up, I was sure I would have to file a police report for the traffic accident. As I walked to my car, I make a mental note to check the passenger side of my car for damage. Only then do I realize that I have a red car and my car in my dream was a blue car that I had a long time ago. Everything about this dream gave me an eerie feeling, as most dreams do.

Airplanes


En route to solid ground

Speaking of airplanes, I don’t really like to fly.

The past few years or so–going on about twenty-five years now, if you want to know the truth–I have gone on driving vacations. I really have no desire to fly if I don’t have to. I would fly if the right opportunity came along. All I have to do is forget my last flight from Palm Springs, California, to Chicago back in 1979. Whew! What a flight!

I remember waiting in line to board the plane and just by chance I was standing behind the two flight attendants for our flight. I expressed some of my concerns about flying, such as looking out the windows and watching the wings flex up and down during the flight. I also mentioned how I didn’t like when an airplane would hit an air pocket it lose altitude suddenly. The flight attendants reassured me that that was normal during a lot of flights.  When we boarded the plane I sat directly behind the flight attendants. I jokingly asked them to hold my hand if we hit an air pocket. They just laughed, but I was serious. They told me not to worry about a thing.

Anyway, we were flying what seemed a normal, uneventful flight, except when I looked out and saw the wings flexing up and down over the Grand Canyon. The flight attendants smiled at me and reassured me that the wings were designed to flex during flight. They probably thought I was a big baby. Later, we hit an air pocket and the plane fell a little. I tried to show the flight attendants that I wasn’t scared even a little bit during that slight loss of altitude. They just smiled at me again.

Suddenly, the plane started bouncing and the pilot announced that we should all put on our seatbelts. The flight attendants sat down in front of me, put on their seatbelts, and told me not to worry about a thing. Wow, did we ever hit some turbulence! The plane shook like the Millenium Falcon when it reached warp speed. Everyone on the plane remained calm, including me.

Then we hit a major air pocket. The plane started falling and it felt like a roller coaster descending the first big drop. But it kept falling for much longer than a roller coaster. I wanted to show the flight attendants how calm I could be during this air pocket drop. Suddenly, both flight attendants started screaming. That’s when I began to worry and I looked out the window to see if the wings were still attached to the plane. I thought, if these two seasoned flight attendants are screaming like this, surely we will crash. I tapped one of them on the shoulder and asked her, “Does that mean you won’t hold my hand?” They were so embarrassed when they remembered that I was sitting behind them.

Well, needless to say, we landed safely in Chicago, otherwise you wouldn’t be reading this. And that was the last time I flew. But I’m not afraid to fly. Not really.

DDR

Here and now


GameWorks, Schaumburg, Illinois

I have always believed that I am very adaptable and that I could survive anywhere in the world.

In fact, I’ve always fantasized that if you flew me anywhere in the world blindfolded and pushed me out of an airplane, I would somehow live and prosper because of my survival skills. Since I have never gone skydiving, you would have to blindfold me and you would have to push me very firmly to get me to jump out of a perfectly fully functioning, flying airplane. Not jumping out of airplanes is one of my innate survival skills that I highly value. I have never had the urge to go skydiving. When I was in the Marines, a few of my friends wanted me to go skydiving, but I am afraid of heights, so I went to the library instead. And, thus, I live to tell this tale!

Anyway, despite knowing that I’m very adaptable and can get along with just about anyone, just about anywhere, I always get this vague feeling that I’m always in the wrong place and the wrong time. I often feel that I do not belong right here where I am right now, if you know what I mean.

It’s an eerie feeling that’s difficult to describe. No matter where I am, I feel as if I should be somewhere else. As a boy, I truly thought that I was born into the wrong family. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be born to a Mexican family because I certainly didn’t fit in. When I was in Mexico, I thought I should be in Chicago, until I returned to Chicago where I felt that I really belonged in Mexico.

I wasn’t born in the right era either. I should have been a medieval scribe of some sort. Or, I should have been born in New York City in the early 1900s. If I’m with my friends, I feel as if I should be with my sons and family. If I’m with my sons, I feel as if I should be with my girlfriend, but when I’m with her I wish I could be with her, and my sons, family, and friends.

As I write this, I feel guilty for not working on my tax return or correcting Spanish compositions. When I’m teaching, I think about how nice it would be to stay home. Now, that I’m on spring break, I miss my students. What should I do? Maybe I should jump out of a plane.

DDR

Blog entries


Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México

Okay, so how do I write my blog entries? Well, I’ll tell you. I don’t know. I have no rhyme or reason when I sit down at the computer to write a blog entry. In fact, when I’m at my computer, I’m usually supposed to be doing something else, “important academic work” such as grading online Spanish homework or compositions.

However, I never do what I’m supposed to do in a straight-forward fashion. For example, right now, I sat at the computer to grade online Spanish homework, send an email to my cousin in Mexico, enter student grades on my Excel spreadsheet, and then with time permitting, write a blog entry for the sake of posterity that will better the world in untold ways. Well, I hate correcting online homework online, I can’t think of anything to write my cousin, and I dread the thought of staring at a spreadsheet this early in the morning, so I think I’ll start with a blog entry!

So how do I choose my topics? I don’t know! I have many ideas percolating in my head, some for many years now, that somehow manage to ooze out through my fingertips and out into cyberspace. I can’t always contain them. And so they wind up in a blog entry.

As you’ve probably noticed, I’m rarely topical or current. I’ve reached that age where I’m very fascinated with the past, the nostalgic elements of life. I rarely invent anything that I write. I’m just not that creative. I write about just about everything that I remember because I have a good memory.

How good is my memory? Well, I remember things that most of my friends don’t remember even the slightest detail. But a good memory is like a double-edged sword: it cuts both ways. I also have some painful memories that I would like to forget but can’t. I have issues with my good memory: 1. I remember most things that ever happened to me, and 2. I remember many things that never happened to me. My imagination invents events from my past and I truly believe that they really happened to me. I try to block those out, but I don’t always manage to censor them.

Well, I will end this blog entry rather abruptly today, as I do with most blog entries. I have some things that I really have to do. But first, I’ll go out for my morning run.

DDR

House cleansing


My humble abode!

Imagine that you were in a relationship for a long time. Then, you break up. Somehow over the course of that relationship you accumulated many objects that represent that relationship, not to mention all that emotional baggage that you’ll always lug along.

Now, you’re in a new relationship and you want to invite her to your house. But wait! Don’t do it! Not right away.

First, you have to do a house cleansing. You know that you have to remove all traces of any previous female in your life. The most obvious of all: all the pictures that show you with your ex. No girly things are allowed to remain. So get rid of the seat cushions on the kitchen chairs and the place mats on the kitchen table. Because no real man buys seat cushions and place mats of his own free will.

The magnetic shopping list on the fridge. Gone! Because a new girlfriend won’t believe that a man actually makes a grocery list all by himself. And while you’re at it, get rid of the fuzzy toilet seat cover. That’s a girl thing. Because if your new girlfriend finds something that your ex-girlfriend gave you and you kept it… You’re in big trouble!

Jealousy is retroactive! Men, don’t you ever forget that! Remove the bra hanging from your rearview mirror. The panties from your lampshade. The empty condom wrappers in you bedroom wastebasket. Woman notice these little things.

You have been forewarned! Go now and begin anew!

DDR