Monday, March 30, 2009

Still Laughing

Bud Light® Budd Light • Just A Lonely Guy 2008

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Move to Mexico


The reports in the newspapers, online, and on the television about the eminent demise of Mexico are greatly exaggerated.  Yes, the border towns in northern Mexico are in the midst of a battle between law enforcement and the drug smugglers.  The failed "War on Drugs" has claimed too many innocent lives.  Guns and money come from the United States and drugs are sent north.  It seems to me that to fight this so-called war more effectively the governments of Mexico and the United States have to change something.  Doing what they've been doing has not produced any lasting results.

Get rid of the guns.  Assault weapons, once illegal, are now back on the streets and heading to anyone in the world that has the money to buy them legally or illegally.  Thank you, George Bush and the Republican controlled Congress, for allowing the ban on assault weapons to expire.  Yep, those gutless wonders always insist on expiration dates for controversial laws, including the tax breaks for the very wealthy in the United States.  Get rid of the guns.  I don't care how.  Ban them, again.  And, if need be, take over the munitions makers and only sell our guns and ammo to friendly governments and our own folks in law enforcement and the military.

Decriminalize, hell, just legalize marijuana.    How better to neuter the drug dogs than to take away the "crime"?  Don't tell me that the drug cartels have powerful lobbyists in Washington?  In one fell swoop, marijuana could become a money making industry for small family farms and a tax dollar source for local and/or federal governments.  Smoking pot is a victimless "crime".  And, by the way, when marijuana was made illegal it was partly because the United States Government was trying to send illegal immigrant Mexicans back to Mexico and charging "those people" with crimes made it so much easier.  Oh, the evils of mota and those that use it.  How'd that immigration issue work out back then?

I find it interesting that early in the Bush Presidency, the government of Mexico was considering making drug use legal.  Yep.  That could not stand, so the talks and plans ended.  Idiots.  Both governments.

My little part of Mexico is a Paradise.  English is spoken by a large number of workers here.  And, the not so lazy Yanks, Brits, and Canucks do take classes or use Rosetta Stone to learn Spanish.  Language is not a barrier.  Most doctors, lawyers, and other professional folks here are bilingual.  Many of the Europeans that live here speak at least three languages.

Ajijic is blessed with the best climate in the hemisphere.  Yes, a lot of places claim that distinction but, after nearly two years of living here I must testify that it is true about the Lake Chapala region.  We always have cool nights.  We nearly always have a cool breeze blowing over the lake towards our town.  We rarely have a cloudy overcast day or a day when it rains during the "working hours".  January here is pure Heaven compared to January in Michigan.  And, if you like a good storm with lightning and thunder boomers you'll love it here during the rainy season.

The cost of living is a bit steeper here than in Mexican towns without foreigners.  However, the costs of essentials are low enough for those of us living on small pensions, Social Security, Social Security Disability, or any other disability plan.  Rents vary by location.  Gas for cooking and heating hot water is cheap.  Food is cheap.  And, the cost of medical care is astonishingly inexpensive.  Most of the prescriptions that us old timers need are sold over the counter and at great prices.  Trying buying 28 - 20mg. tablets of Prozac (not mine) for about $8.00 US.  Most patient co-pays are more than that!

Yesterday, we stopped in at our doctor's office/pharmacy to buy Criam (a really really cheap alternative for Lamictal).  I mentioned that my allergy congestion had started to work its way to my bronchials.  Polo sold me the needed prescription meds for about $8.00.  And, no charge for the consult or "office call".

Move to Mexico.  Get away from that mortgage, those credit cards, and the rat race that has become the American lifestyle.  Bring your legally creditor-free pension down here and LIVE, again.

Live.  Be happy.  And, praise the Lord for each day that you live in THIS paradise.

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Photo of the Day

The jacaranda tree in the front of the house has past its peak blooming period. The blossoms that have fallen have been replaced with the leaves and seeds of the next phase of the tree's life cycle. This photograph is a zoomed in shot of our changing tree.

Daily sweeping of the blossoms and the dust in front of the house, on the sidewalk, and in the road are still required. Ah, village life.....

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Still Angry

I was 14 years old when I entered my freshmen year of high school.  I never dreaded going to school.  So, I expected to have an unremarkable year.  Unfortunately, it was, and my first visit to the 9th Grade school guidance counselor was clouded with the suspicions of one Detective Everyasshole.  What a freaking way to meet the man that for the next four years would assist me in scheduling courses, applying for university admissions, applying for scholarships, and generally saving my sanity in the 12th grade by allowing me to be his runner.  I loathed "study hall" and Mr. S, our "class" couselor for all four years of high shcool, was kind.  And, somehow, he wrangled a one year tuition scholarship at the coummunity college for me from a local bank.  God bless Mr. S.

Anyway, the dick accused me, rather, he berated me with the tone and words of a man not looking for the truth but already convinced of my guilt.  I sat mute.  I endured his assurances that if I did not come clean this burglary would forever haunt my conscience.  Well, forever my ass.  It has been forever that I am angered each and every time that I recall that autumn morning.  Right there in that small office with Mr. S sitting silently I fumed as the dick loomed over me.

The victims were customers on my paper route.  That's all he told me.  I found out later that Detective Everyasshole had been to the house to speak to my parents and to see if my gloves were at home.  It seems that one of the thieves had left behind a glove.  The  funny thing was that all four of us boys had kept an active glove drawer with interchangable pairs of the very same brown "Jersey" gloves.  That's all my mom ever bought for us and all that we ever wanted.  They were great "work" gloves, dead common, but great for folding newspapers in the frigid cold of a Michigan winter and tossing perfect snowballs.  So, I think the glove drawer had in it at least four and 1/2 pairs of gloves.  And, there was the pair I had in my coat pockets.  Oh, yes, if the glove fits.....

Not once, not once did he ever ask me if I had committed the crime or if I had an alibi.  I freaking had to sit there mute because the prick never asked me a question.  It was all "I know you did it and guilt guilt guilt guilt forever and ever", and ever, fucking man.

I do not protest too much.  I didn't do it.  That sort of shit simply isn't part of my makeup.  And, I have an alibi.  That is, the dick could have chosen from one of two since I wasn't certain of the night in question.  Did the burglary occur on the night that my parents went out and left me babysitting my little 6 year old sister?  Was I really that irresposible to take time out from my dear sister and rob a house?  Don't you think she would have noticed my absence and told my parents?  They would have killed me.

Or, Sir, was it the night that that old guy drove me out on a dark deserted countryroad and raped me?

Detective Everyasshole's accusation and conviction without trial really pisses me off.  It's funny.  Not Ha Ha, but in the strange sense that for the last uncertain years, I've been more angry about the police officer's lack of questions and his total rejection of even allowing me to defend myself, than the rape (that's a helluva self-revelation).  I guess that I do have some reasons for "depressing" the memory of the rape that happened sometime near the date of the robbery.

He never asked, "Did you do it?"  He really didn't let me speak.

I never had the chance to tell someone of my innocence...

...and my innocence lost...

Yep.  That freaking robbery still haunts me.

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Sticks and Stones

A few years back, when I was first getting excited about studying my family's history, I mistakenly asked German speaking folks to tell me how "they" pronounced my mother's maiden name.  I'm not sure how long it took me to realize that the only reliable pronunciation would have had to come from my grandfather, Albert Fuhrwerk, through my mother and her sister.  I did.  Now, I find it interesting that through the years census takers have attempted "phonetic" spellings of the family name.  That is one thing that can screw-up anyone's genealogy searches.

My Fuhrwerks left West Prussia shortly after the unification of Germany in 1871.  Through letters exchanged with Fuhrwerks still in Germany, I discovered that the name may be traced to Saxony.  One family informed me that an uncle was required to verify his lineage for the then Nazi Government in order to advance in the officer corps and that his search led to Saxony.  That was useful information.  Unfortunately, as with all things Bipolar, my interest in genealogy was sporadic and subject to my many moods and life-long habit of leaving projects incomplete.  I could probably spend more time in research since time is what I have an abundance of while living in paradise.

Anyway, I am still trying to figure out where my Kivel family originated.  The Fuhrwerks (pronounced- fur wick) are somewhat accounted for and the name seems to be becoming more rare in the United States.  That is, the correctly spelled name.

Now, imagine that you had been given the name Cockshott, Balls, or Death.  I'd be interested in changing it regardless of the love I had for any former Cockshotts.  Reuters has an interesting article about the decline of "odd" names.   And, they do decline.

A study found the number of people with the name Cock shrank to 785 last year from 3,211 in 1881, those called Balls fell to 1,299 from 2,904 and the number of Deaths were reduced to 605 from 1,133.

People named Smellie decreased by 70 percent, Dafts by 51 percent, Gotobeds by 42 percent, Shufflebottoms by 40 percent, and Cockshotts by 34 percent, said Richard Webber, visiting professor of geography at King's College, London.

"If you find the (absolute) number goes down, it's either because they changed their names or they emigrated," Webber, author of the study, told Reuters on Wednesday.

Now, about my first name...................... (the photo above is of a fuhrwerk)


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Tuesday, March 24, 2009

British Hate

This is not British humor......

From the Mail Online:

"All homosexuals should face stoning to death, a Muslim preacher of hate declared yesterday.

Anjem Choudary, the firebrand cleric who wants to see Britain ruled by Sharia law, said such a regime was the only way to fix the country's ills.

Under it, adulterers and homosexuals would be killed by stoning. Asked if that would include anybody - even a Cabinet minister such as Business Secretary Lord Mandelson - Choudary responded with an astonishing diatribe."

Yep. Islam --- a religion of love and peace.............


British Humor

Somebody has some painting to do ---

From the BBC:

An 18-year-old has secretly painted a 60ft drawing of a phallus on the roof of his parents' £1million mansion in Berkshire. It was there for a year before his parents found out. They say he'll have to scrub it off when he gets back from travelling.



I published the Jesus on a Raptor photo this morning with my usual contempt and snarky remarks about the knuckle dragging evangelicals that call themselves Christians. It seems that the comic book in question was a parody and not a real publication. It seemed real given what I know about the Christianists and their attempts to rewrite history and propensity to ignore scientific facts.


The Texas reference does have legs. I saw the article about it in other papers a few days back.

H/T to Andrew Sullivan and his Daily Dish.

Photo of the Day

I took several photographs of the Primavera tree that you see above. The yellow blossoms are big and beautiful. I can only imagine how spectacular the view is of the Primavera Forest outside of Guadalajara. This solitary tree is near the Plaza in the center of Ajijic.

Who cares about a little allergy problem when you are surrounded by God's Glory? I praise God, even as I get blisters on my blisters when sweeping up the Jacaranda blossoms from the front of our house and roadway.

Mental Health Update

I'm mental. I am relatively healthy. That's all.

Actually, having enjoyed the falling Jacaranda blossoms for the last month, I have finally succumbed to an allergy to something else that is currently blooming. Oh, joy. I am miserable. It will pass soon enough.

As far as my mental health. Gotta minute? I hate hearing about the American economy. I hate the blowhards on the TV that want President Obama to fail and thus the country to suffer. Yep. Those bastards are putting "country first". The Party of No have no ideas, no solutions --- just obstructionist tactics.

I hate the jerks that want teachers to give up their health care and pensions. The U.S. does not value education enough or we wouldn't look to cutting teachers and programs to make state budgets balance. I hate the Republican Party in the State of Michigan because they also want those of us that are retired to pay more for our health care benefits and end the "defined benefit program" in favor of a retirement system that would be at the mercy of Wall Street and the jerks that wrecked our economy.

My most troublesome bipolar disorder trigger is money. So, since the stock marker tanked last fall, I have been depressed. It is becoming increasingly difficult to watch my favorite MSNBC shows and read my "newsie" blogs. I barely ever have the yen to blog.

And, I've put on some weight. My 2 1/2 kilo gain really pisses me off. So, tomorrow -- I have to get back to walking everyday and eating even more fruit and chicken.

So, other than that, the play did suck, if you want the truth.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Photos of the Day

While eating breakfast at David's Cafe we discovered a hummingbird's nest hanging in a plant that was hanging from the ceiling. How cool is that? We will have to check back soon to see if and when the eggs hatch. Momma hummingbird is sitting on her nest and ignoring all the folks having breakfast or lunch.

Move to Mexico



I know that I have been hesitant in the past to recommend that anyone move to Ajijic or anywhere else in the Lake Chapala region. Only, however, because I am selfish and wanted to keep this place a "secret" so that not too many gringos move south. Except, now, in the wake of all the turmoil in the States, I would like to see more folks that are struggling to make ends meet retire and/or move to Mexico to take advantage of the low cost of living and the adventure that there is in living among the Mexican people. I love it here. I know that others folks will, too.

This area of the world should not be "reserved" for the rich and famous. Ordinary folks with limited incomes will find it quite easy to "live well" here. Please disregard most of the crap that the media in the States publishes about the drug wars and problems in the northern states of Mexico. This country is not teetering on the brink of collapse. Lou Dobbs is full of shit.

I advocate a sort of reverse immigration flow from the United States to Mexico. Now that the American economy is tits up, it would benefit Social Security and SS Disability recipients to immigrate to Mexico and spend their monies here to provide jobs and income for the Mexicans. We retirees won't take away any jobs that "Mexicans won't do". We need maids, gardeners, and handy-men. The bars, restaurants, and grocery stores benefit, as well, from our presence. And, oh yes, the artsy fartsy folks among us will love the community of artisans that live in the area.

Move to Mexico. Retire in Mexico. Stay 6 months and go back for a visit and return for another 6 months at a time..... or, if you have a steady income source, move here on a more permanent basis and get "official" with an FM-3. I've been here for almost two years and haven't returned to the States. I am on my first renewal of the FM-3 document status that allows me to stay for an indefinite amount of time.

Credit card debt? Upside down mortage or a house that just won't sell? There is hope and a way to get through all the bullshit that may be holding you back from enjoying your life. There really is a solution.

Are you ready for an adventure?

The photo above is a close-up shot of a jacaranda tree's blooms. I am still getting up every morning to sweep the drifts of flowers that litter the front patio, sidewalk, and street. Just a few more weeks of all this beauty. Then, something else will be in bloom. Gawds, I love it.