Neighbors


Marquette Park, Chicago, Illinois

Good fences make good neighbors. Words of wisdom by Robert Frost. Words I can live by.

My neighbors who complained about me not mowing my lawn until Memorial Day also complained to me when the fence between our properties was blown over by intense winds. It was an old wooden fence and the posts rotted at the base from the moisture. Well, her husband put the fence in my yard. They insisted it was my fence, but I didn’t know because the fence was already there when I bought the house.

So I took the fence apart and slowly threw it away with the weekly garbage. The wood was rotted beyond repair. Since I didn’t have any small children or pets, I didn’t think I needed to replace the fence between our yards.

But my neighbor would sneak up behind me while I was doing yardwork to insist that we get a new fence. I really couldn’t afford a new fence and I told her. But she insisted that we had to get a new fence and we would each pay for half of it. I said I wanted a three-foot chain-link fence because it would last longer than a wooden fence.

I had a red cedar wooden fence at my old house and the wind blew it over after about five years. What a shame that I had replaced the thirty-year-old chain-link fence with a wooden one that didn’t even last five years! I insisted on a chain-link fence, because the chain-link fence at my childhood home was still standing after all these years.

But my neighbor ordered a six-foot wooden fence for privacy. And I was supposed to pay for half. I reluctantly agreed, but when I contacted the contractor to pay for half of the fence, he told me that the neighbors had already paid in full. I just didn’t understand. They only paid for half of the fence, so only half of the fence was installed. I would be responsible for installing the rest of the fence.

Normally, I don’t get that involved with my neighbors. If my house would have come with a good fence, I could have avoided dealing with my neighbors on this issue.

DDR

UIC IBM vs. Mac


Dr. D. hard at work!

When I was a student at UIC, I wrote all of my papers on computers. I tried to do most of my writing on my own computer at home, but whenever I had free time between my classes I would use a computer in one of the few computer labs they had at the time.

I did a lot of writing on typewriters and then eagerly progressed to personal computers because of their word-processing capabilities. I was definitely an IBM aficionado since I couldn’t afford an Apple or a Macintosh. Our high school didn’t even have computers when I was a student.

Anyway, UIC had two types of computer labs: IBM or Macintosh. At first, no one used the IBM lab, so I had the lab pretty much too myself. Everybody was really into Macs at the time, although I’m not sure why. Supposedly, they were better than IBMs. Then there was a sudden shift in computing at UIC and I could hardly ever find an open IBM computer. Perhaps it was when IBM compatibles started using Windows, which was definitely inferior to the Mac operating system. I never did like those early versions of Microsoft Windows and stuck to MS-DOS 5.0 for much longer than most normal humans could endure.

Well, IBM’s were no longer readily available when I was. So being the adaptable person who I am, transformed myself into a Mac user. I have convinced myself that I can survive anywhere in the world, under any conditions. So, I sat down at a Mac computer for the first time in my life and started typing. When I looked at the screen, I couldn’t make heads nor tails of what I had written. You see, I can touch type and, when I put my fingers on the keyboard, I felt for the little bump in order to find the home keys. All electric typewriters and IBM keyboards always had those little bumps on the F and J keys. Mac, however, had the little bumps on the D and K keys. So my fingers were off by one key.

Macintosh always tried so hard to be different. Also maddening was waiting for the Mac to execute a command. Instead of the little hourglass to represent the waiting, a dialog box would appear that said, “Please wait. The computer is doing something real complicated right now.” So how was this better than an IBM computer? Well, I continued using IBMs and Macs, depending on which was available. To this day, I can go on any strange computer do some strange writing.

DDR

Nicknames


Alexander the Great
Photo by Yusuf Kaya on Pexels.com

When my oldest son was born, my wife insisted on naming him David Diego Rodriguez, Jr. I was against this for many reasons (I’ve already written several blog entries on this topic). She won the argument. When our surprise twins were born, she insisted that I name them whatever I wanted. I was incredibly surprised by her decision, but I immediately started thinking of names. Adam immediately came to mind because one of my best friends in grade school was named Adam. I also gave him the middle name of Luis because my brother Joe’s middle name is Luis, and both my father-in-law and brother-in-law were named Louis. Of course, I had to use the Spanish spelling of Luis and not the French. The other twin I named Alejandro because the name was at once biblical, historical, mythical, and popular. I liked the Spanish version of the name because I had been reading several history books written in Spanish in which they referred to Alejandro Magno, or Alexander the Great, as a major influence for Charlemagne and his descendent Carlos V of Spain. For his middle name I chose Daniel because I have both a brother and brother-in-law named Daniel. In addition, I have known many Daniels in my lifetime who were good friends. Thus, the twins were named Alejandro Daniel Rodriguez and Adam Luis Rodriguez, but my wife and I called them Adam and Alex. And so did most people.

Alex and Adam

However, somehow, they acquired some nicknames that I didn’t particularly like: Coco and Squeaky. My in-laws constantly called them by these nicknames and I would always point out that they should be called Alejandro or Alex and Adam. Coco and Squeaky were unacceptable. This went on for a few months and I never let up on correcting anyone who called my sons by those nicknames. My in-laws started hating me, but I looked at my actions as a way of protecting my sons from schoolyard abuse based on their nicknames. Every time they called my twins Coco or Squeaky, I would correct them, and we occasionally got into shouting matches. I knew that nicknames were trouble for boys when they played with other boys. I had seen it happen when I was a boy and with my older son when he started school. Not that I was against nicknames, but only if they were good and had positive connotations. Eventually, everyone called the twins Adam and Alex. Twelve years later, I don’t think anyone even remembers those nicknames.

When my oldest son was about eleven and the twins were four, my older son’s friends noticed that Alex had the same name as a certain incredibly famous, very skilled professional baseball player. Once, I introduced the twins to his friends as Adam and Alex. One friend thought about it for a while and then pointed to Alex with a look of amazement on his face. He said, “His name is Alex Rodriguez! He has the same name as A-Rod!” That had never even occurred to me because I had never even heard of A-Rod when the twins were born in 1996. When the twins started school, all their friends started calling them A-Rod and soon my oldest son became D-Rod.

DDR

Chillaxin’


Yield, but never give in!

I’ve reached a juncture in my life where I am very happy and content. I go to bed whenever I want. I get up whenever I want. If I feel like, I do a little writing, a little reading, or nothing at all. I really don’t have to be anywhere until the middle of August when the semester begins.

I’m looking forward to my road trip to Mexico City with my sons who are now twelve and actually a lot of fun to have around. They stay up late and get up late, so I actually have some time to myself in the morning. Today, when they woke up, I announced, “We’re going to Starved Rock!” I was waiting for a resounding, “Hooray!” But I was greeted by silence. However, whenever I suggest outings they go willingly because we always have fun on these trips. And today’s trip was no exception. I like just getting in the car and driving somewhere–anywhere–with my sons.

I have to admit that this is where I wanted to be in my life for the longest time. I really don’t have too many obligations to complicate my life. I get up in the morning, drink my coffee, read my paper, and then go running. After that, the rest of my day is a blank daily planner. I can do whatever I want. Literally. And I often do.

My only personal goal at the moment is to write a blog entry everyday until I go to Mexico. Then, I’ll have to take a little break. I’d like to finish editing my play that I’ve been writing for more than twenty years, but I always manage to put it aside for yet another day. And I don’t feel at all guilty about it. I’m happy to have gotten to this point in my life because not many people get to theirs. I’ve been very fortunate and I’m grateful for it.

DDR

George Carlin


George Carlin, 1937-2008

This morning I heard some unbelievable news: George Carlin had died. That was in sharp contrast to my reaction whenever I saw him on TV or YouTube.com: George Carlin is still alive?

I only say that because he was known to get high before performing. He was one of my favorite comedians dating back to the 1960s when I used to watch him on TV as a boy. I loved watching him on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, especially because I was supposed to be sleeping. I remember he did one routine about an over-zealous New York City police officer who broke the record for the most arrests. His chief eventually asks, “What do you mean you arrested your mother?”

Whenever my friends came over, I would have them listen to the one and only George Carlin comedy album that I had. My friends always thought he was funny and I always laughed no matter how many times I heard it. I divided all my friends into those who liked George Carlin and those who didn’t.

I don’t remember the name of the album, but he was pictured sitting on a stool and the there is a brown border around the picture. And in tiny print there were a lot of Carlin witticisms such as, “There’s no two ways about it. There are two sides to every story!” Of course, I never noticed them until my friend Bill Pappas read the entire album jacket and pointed them out to me. This was when I first discovered George Carlin the writer. This last year I watched him on YouTube.com and then showed the clips to my sons. He’s still funny to me even after all these years.

DDR