Imaginary Family...or are they?

So, I was conducted in the cousin-mobiles (they suspiciously switched cars at some point) to the GQ couple's house in a nearby town; where everyone is clean, polite, well to do, and, oddly, youth doesn't appear to be wasted on the young---they seem to use it well.

The GQ couple has two GQ children, ages 13 and 10.  OK, 10 1/2.   If you know nicer, more gentle and polite children of that age, I'm certain you are lying.  A girl and a boy.   The cool thing is that we are blood relatives, not too distantly diluted.

I have a calendar with their picture on it, and who in SD county can prove that Mrs. GQ is not my daughter, and the sweet children not my favorite grandchildren?  Who wouldn't sympathize with me because her mother, my late wife, died in an unfortunate lab accident while on the verge of discovering a sure fire cure for the common cold?

I lost her when Mrs GQ was only three years old.  We made it through and have always been close.  It wasn't always easy protecting her from the bitter truth that the fatal explosion was undoubtedly not an accident.  Believe me, many of the outfits which peddle remedies for cold symptoms do not want a cure to emerge.   And they have plenty of political clout.  Tragic.

When you are raising a child under such circumstances you find courage you never knew was in you.  Anything to protect the child and ensure that she thrives.  I'm so proud of the woman she's become.  A forty year old mother of two who looks to be a healthy twenty five.  Her husband is clearly her soul mate.  And no one could ask for better parents.  Her mom must be very gratified.  I can feel her joy in the after life.

Those kids are encouraging me to find someone special, and maybe I will.  My late sweetheart, Willowanne, would kick my butt for waiting so long.  She was always the pragmatic one, and sincerely concerned for my happiness and well being.

I try not to brag on my daughter's family too much.  It only makes others feel inferior.  What a joy, though, to visit, to have the grandkids jump for joy when I enter the room.  They've all won so many awards for everything from science projects to tennis tournaments to saving lives back in the big flood of '07 that a separate room is required to hold all the plaques, diplomas, trophies and certificates.

Great way to start the new year.  I'll take their advice when I return home.

It's Diverse and Multi-cultural!!! Yay

My cousin lives in a neighborhood with all the flavor and benefits of multi-culturalism.   We are, of course, tolerant because all cultures are equal, except the one we won't mention.

The vibrancy of diversity is clearly evident on New Year's eve in some cities.  It is tradition, allegedly, in some people's old countries to fire guns into the air at midnight on New Year's eve for some reason.  Maybe they are trying to kill either the old year or the new, or both.  Perhaps they think they can shoot out a star as one would a street light.

They seemed OK during the day.  But at midnight, it was like urban warfare.   The one on this side fires off a few rounds.  Pretty soon the one on the other side fires off a few rounds plus some.  The the one in back fires.  Then one of the others fires a clearly more powerful weapon.  "My gun is bigger, therefore better and much more macho."

I need to get the paper to see if anyone reaped the benefit of a falling bullet.  This is a big city.  But then so is Miami and many fine folks there have been known to do the same thing.  I'm thinking maybe a titanium hat business could thrive on such holidays in these cities.

Apparently it is a Latin American thing.  It may be that gravity is taught to about the same extent in their schools as logic and history are taught in ours.  So many immigrants have the advantage of not having to clutter their mind with any of those things if they get here at the right age.  All in the timing.

For some reason I found myself shocked as multiple rounds were rapid fired into the air.  I thought anyone would be aware that death to innocents could result.  And that anyone would categorize that as a thing to be avoided.

I think they believe the bullets go way up into the sky and the saints catch them, turn them into gold, and if they are very good little muchachos then sometime in the new year their patron saints will put gold nuggets under their pillows.  It never happens but that can be explained because they haven't been good enough.  They failed to do confession right.

Miserable sinners full of Catholic guilt.  "Maybe next year if I give los santos 40 bullets instead of 20 they will bless me with gold under my pillow."   I'm good at reading the thoughts of such people.

So, what are they doing today?  Raking leaves.  Ay, dios mio, if only these leaves had been raked, maybe I would have been blessed for the new year.  I think it was an act of penance.  Maybe next year will be better and finally I get the gold under the pillow. Never mind no one knows of anyone who has had such fortune first hand.  But there are stories and rumors of pious peasants in far away towns who were blessed.  And this is how we all benefit from embracing the facets of the culture which made the third world what it is today.