Survived the storm!
What I didn’t do was, well…
…detect the storm.
It did rain hard for five minutes at about 4:30 PM yesterday. So I closed the window. And then?
Well, Raf came home, we ate, it was warmish, we went to bed. Expecting to get up when the bashing began.
Slept through the night!
Storm apparently weakened and dropped south. Instead of 58 miles south of Ponce, it’s a couple hundred miles.
“Totally exaggerated,” claims a critic of the governor, speaking of the 96 million dollars per day lost in productivity by closing down the island these last two days.
Gentle Readers, welcome to the Caribbean, where even a storm can be politicized!
Let’s be fair. No one can predict these things. The waters of the Caribbean are hot—a perfect source of fuel for a hurricane. The National Hurricane Center was predicting intensification. It’s not the wind, it’s the water that kills. Forty-five percent of Puerto Ricans live in flood zones.
And it’s not over yet. The tail of a storm can do bad damage, and this is a wet storm.
But it’s cool and overcast today. The banana kwit is chirping across the street. Elvin, the guy from La Perla, is continuing his work next door. And I?
Comparing and contrasting—as they made me do those many years ago in high school.
The sober Norse have constructed a special psychiatric cell for the mas murderer, just in the event he gets declared insane tomorrow. Yup, cost a cool million bucks, but that’s not unusual. The cost of keeping highly weird guys away from society in Norway is routinely over a million dollars a year.
Has to be done, because they have rights!
Yeah?
It’s a little hard for me to get my head around this. I don’t think he should be put on the wrack and tortured—though I’m also not the father of any one of the victims. Might think differently if I were.
But a million bucks? When my cousin’s husband had to wait over a month in agonizing pain for a very much-needed surgery?
Still, you have to respect the Norwegians, that good sober earnestness. Doing the right thing. Playing fair, even with a guy who very much did not. Refusing to give in to any base instinct.
Well, well, it’s all rather different in Spain! There, the nation is going crazy making jokes on a poor 80 year old lady who gave her time and talent to the church!
How can they!
Shame on them! It may be true that the results were less felicitous than hoped. Celia Giménez has asked pardon, but also points out that she wasn’t able to finish the work. And no, it’s not a masterpiece. The artist dashed it off in two hours a century ago. Here’s how it looked….
Well, and here’s the restoration!
And now, of course, the entire world is laughing at this poor dear! This lovely lady who went into the church and got right down to work! The press is dubbing the work—originally called Ecce Homo, behold the man—as Ecce Mono, behold the monkey.
That’s just not right!
All right, drop the ironic tone. Admit it, come clean.
I couldn’t stop laughing. The storm brings many things—salchichas, beer, anxiety. No, I didn’t go as crazy as before. But the general hysteria works its way into you. And when it’s released?
I get punchy.
Well, Jack wouldn’t think Ecce mono was funny at all. He’d have some sympathy for that good Spanish lady that all the world is laughing at. He’d run to her defense!
He was a better man than I.
I can’t stop laughing….