El Gringoqueño

Back in 1995, Laura and I were preparing to head to Spain, she for her doctoral research, me because I wanted to tag along. It was a period of uncertainty and I toyed with the idea of staying behind. I put out my resume and started a job hunt for something that paid well. I got a bite from a publishing company called Nano-thinc (IIRC) to be their web editor.

Things started out normally enough. They had an office on Geary Street right off the bay in San Francisco. Pleasantries were exchanged all around. I was to be interviewed by the owner, a large, loud, and agitated man. He had passion and he believed in something. It was clear. But what? I asked them about their company, what they did, what was their vision etc.

"We at Nano-thinc want to become the ZiffDavis publishing empire of nanotechnology (remember, this is 1995). We think that in 5 years nanotechnology will eliminate death, and as a side effect, all religion."

"Okay," I said, blinking. Did I miss the "Beware: Here Be Cult" sign on the way in? Well let’s have a little fun with this, hell what have I got to lose?

"So, you think think that eliminating death will destroy religion? Why the grudge against religion?"

"Religion is responsible for all the worlds ills. It has killed millions, caused untold despair. If we didn’t die, we wouldn’t need it any more." His tirade had gotten to a fever pitch. He liked talking about this, I thought, so I decided to give him a run for his money.

"But it’s not religion that causes hate and despair, it’s humanity’s inherent smallness and fear that brings that on. Let me ask you something: If you eliminate natural death from old age, disease, sickness, then what are you left with? Unnatural death? People will still die. It’s just that now, it’s going to be murder, accident, decapitation, whatever. As you increase lifespan, and eliminate natural death, you are only left with the assurance that when you go, and you WILL go, that it’s gonna be ugly."

"Yes, but," he blustered, "People won’t fear death any more, and as such they won’t need superstitions like religion. We will control everything and religion won’t be necessary any more."

I replied, "That’s assuming religion exists because of death - a logical fallacy. I think it exists because of life. So you live for 2000 years. What are you going to do with yourself? How are you going to live? We can barely eek out 75 years as it is, without getting bored, falling into despair, self destructive behavior, selfishness. You have to ask yourself, why do you want MORE life? What are you doing with this one? Religion attempts to answer these questions by helping us come up with a framework of service to our fellows. I grant that religion goes astray by claims that it SOLVES the riddle, but by and large it’s our petty fears that trip us up. It’s life that trips us up. Give us more, and we will cling to it with even more fervor, only to find that it ends just the same. Give us the illusion of longevity and we will spend our lives consumed with inaction and self-indulgence. Religion doesn’t help us with death, death is inevitable. Religion helps us with life. Nanotechnology will inevitably lead to a greater belief in God/presence/creator/something greater than ourselves."

"Well, I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree," he blustered. It seemed to me that he had not examined his position sufficiently well.

"Good day," I said. Now that was fun. I’m gonna look this crackpot up in five years and see what he’s up to.

I just have to comment on this great little addition to my technology array. The personal music player, Cowon iAudio F1, rocks. I love it, even if the 22 hour advertised battery life only lives up to around 13. But, it plays ogg vorbis, mp3, wma, is super small, does voice recording, has 1 Gigabyte of flash memory, is an FM tuner, records FM radio, and "line in" too all for around $125.00. This little baby rules. I’ve had it for around 6 months now, and I think it’s fabulous, small, and powerful. Highly recommended. No iPods for me, unless I hack it with RockBox… which I might do, btw.

Jaimito, age 4: Daddy, does magic exist?

Me: Oh, I like that question. But I have to ask you another question, Jaimito. It depends, what is magic? Do you know, Jaimito, why things fall to the ground?

Jaimito: Um, cause you dropped them?

Me: Well, yes, that’s right, but the falling part. How come, Jaimito, that you stick to the ground and don’t fly up to the ceiling?

Jaimito: ‘Cause I don’t have a cape?

Me: *Falls out of chair laughing*

Laura, Jaimito, and Olaia were all out last night. Laura was at some cocktail event for the Puerto Rico Chamber of Commerce, and Olaia and Jaimito attended the birthday party of a cousin. They saw "Cars." I wish I could have gone, but no, I got to stay at home and look after Javier, just the two of us, hangin’. What a treat it was, though. I think I got the best deal. He’s such a fiddle-muffin, always in motion, joking, smiling, laughing, getting into stuff. We got into stuff together. He likes that I help him get into stuff. Then we bounced on the bed. He loves that. Of course the only problem with little children, is that they never ever tire of whatever they are doing that is fun. Again. Again. Again. Do it again. And if you don’t do it one thousand million times, they wail. So we have to find something else fun to do.

Next, let’s jump on the couch. Jump jump jump jump.

"Okay, Javier, Daddy’s tired. Can we take a break?" And I plopped down on the couch and flicked on the TV. Let’s see if there are cartoons on. Javier climbed up and slumped down on the couch imitating my male couch-slouching posture. We were a couple of perfect guys, lazing on the couch. Lovely.

Then I made dinner.

"Hey, Javier, are you hungry? Let’s make dinner. What would you like." He understood, and immediately began to wail.

Daddy, I forgot, I’m hungry. You reminded me and now I want food right now - right this instant. No forget that, I want food five minutes ago.

"Okay, little man, hold your horses. I’m on it. Let’s get you some juicy." I took out a cartoon of country style pulpy fresh orange juice. The wail volume went up a notch.

DADDY! I want it NOW.

"All right, Javier, look, you had better stop crying. You will not have ANY juice until you stop crying this instant." Javier knew I meant business. There are no second chances in this house. Daddy demands instant and complete compliance or the consequences come raining down. Javier’s tears instantly shut off while I finished pouring his juice and handed it to him. "I knew you could do it, little boy. Daddy’s proud of you for holding on and being patient." I patted him on the head and gave him a little hug.

Now I must get to our dinner, I thought. "So, Javier, what shall we have? A little Daddy-style Spanish Tortilla? Sounds good. Hmmmm."

I got out the mixed vegetables, the eggs, and a glass bowl. Normally Spanish omelets have potatoes, but Puerto Rico is so damn hot, I can’t eat a lot of carbs for dinner. As soon as I have rice, pasta, or potatoes, my body goes into flop sweat mode. It’s a pain, let me tell you. Dinner, for me, ideally consists of vegetables, fruits, and a bit of meat or beans, or any variation thereof. I dumped in the mixed vegetables, eggs, garlic, and whipped it all together. I popped it in the microwave for four minutes and bam, quicky Spanish omelet. I put some cheddar cheese on top and we were good to go. Javier, however, had different ideas.

Daddy, I’m going to eat all the bread at once, stuff it all in my mouth and then only nibble at my eggs. Oh, but the orange juice was great. Daddy, he smiled and seemed to say with his little teeth full of bread, I love you. And he took a quick drink from his sippy cup for emphasis.

Haha, Dave an’ Brian, remember that? Dead dead dead with a hole in my head. Brian wrote that right? Ah, good times.

He used to get close to her. He was an attentive sort, would always move in when he was sure she wouldn’t be bothered, when he knew he would be safe from from her careless ways. She’d not the time to consider him. He’d busy himself though, tidying up, scurrying about.

Unlike the others, too cool, too uninterested, you could tell he cared. Was his a reincarnated soul with a deep connection to her, so profound and abiding as to only be taken in spoonfuls - for it was all he could bear. He must pace himself, he thought. We should live long, very long. The long race does not lend itself to a sprint. Better that our relationship be slow, a walk, a stroll, soft hand in soft hand.

Once he made a bold move, coming close when she’d not asked for it. It was a mistake he would not soon forget. Sometimes the love overwhelmed him and he forgot his place, forgot what he was. She recoiled from his touch. He fled in fright.

He was but a servant. He made himself scarce for a time, but the attraction was there. He couldn’t help himself. When she came into his space, he watched her every move, the way she poured a glass of milk, made toast, the rustle of her dress, the sienna of her skin.

He would venture forth to inhabit her space, breathe the same air. Perhaps she would let a crumb fall for him.

It was a mid-afternoon day when it all came to an end. Bah, he had said to himself, a stroll lacks the capacity to express how I feel. I am transcendent, I am more than I seem to be. I am not content to walk a long slow walk. I need more. And puffed up with his new found resolve, he danced and skipped from his space into hers, touched her bare leg, put a hand beneath her dress. Such was his passion. I shall not live a life in silence away from you, my dear, within reach of you without… I must touch you. I would rather die than live a thousand years thusly.

Let me touch you.

She leapt up in fright pushing her chair back.  He gave her a start, but it began to subside when she saw it was him, his little reptilian self scurrying in fright.

With her errant chair, though, she broke his back, sending him to his death. It was unintentional, but inevitable. The end for which he had hoped could never have been.

Poor Jerry the Lizard, it was your love that killed you. T’was beauty that killed the beast.