Michael: Shave and a Haircut...

Horses in the field,
Corralled by living fences,
Seem to be content.

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Today was barbershop day and thankfully very little Spanish is required to get the style I desire. In fact I bet I could use the same exact wording that I used today at any Supercuts in the states and get the exact same cut; “Numero dos en toto.”

My hair care requirements have just about come full circle. It started with my dad giving me buzz jobs in the backyard when I was a kid, now I walk to somebody’s front yard where they have a small two chair operation going in a small bungalow to get the almost exact same buzz job. My dad didn’t charge me $3, but then again he didn’t trim me with a razor or brush a little baby powder on me when we was finished either.

There were a few hair era’s where I strayed from the simplicity of a simple butch job. In the 70s after my parents divorced, without my dad around, I grew long hair like a lot hippie wanna bees. It wasn’t pretty but at 16 neither were my friends or I.

Then in my 40s when my hair started going grey, for a few years I’d have my hair dyed with henna. But when that stopped taking and my stylist suggested I may want to switch to a permanent dye, I just let my hair go grey and went back to a buzz job.

And it’s not that I don’t care about my appearance. I feel the simple #2 looks a lot better than a lot of the goofy semi-mullets that seem to be in fashion around here.

As an aside, hair on my head is about the only place where I have hair. I barely need to shave and am still quasi hoping one of these days to grow a proper mustache or beard. However, at this point that would probably freak me out as well, figuring the abnormal growth would be a sign of cancer.

Kimme thinks I’m an alien because the few other places where hair is visible on me is under my knees and on my big toes. An alien? I could live with that.

Michael: Two Days Off?

The spider web clouds
Drift past our iron barred view
Of the captured earth.

Monday, June 27, 2016

For the past 5 years I’ve tried to workout everyday until I hit a streak of 1,000 straight days. I came within a couple of hundred days this year. Today is the first time in that stretch, maybe longer - I’d have to check my journals, where I’m taking two days off in a row. That’ll be 4 days in total so far this year.

I know that the objectives of recovery from illness or injury and maintaining or improving athletic performance shouldn’t be in conflict, but when I don’t do or complete a workout, I feel disappointed. I don’t believe in penciling days off. Easy days yes, but it feels good to get outside for a while everyday and 99% of the time it’s not a problem.

It only becomes a problem when the contrasting objectives of recovery contradict the requirements of maintaining a streak, like they did last weekend when I got a very bad cold. I took it easy for a few days but still managed to workout. I even had a very good 9 mile trail run on Wednesday, but come my gym workout on Friday I knew I was in trouble and should’ve scratched the trip into town for some stretching or some other less rigorous workout. I got through it, but it set me back a few days with a high fever and heavily soaked in sweat clothes and bedding.

But it was also at the gym where I decided this is ridiculous. The operator/coach of the gym; a very strong weightlifter type, was also sick the same time I was. He was taking the week off to recover as he had lost 10 lbs. over the course of his illness. Now if a young, strong dude isn’t worried about taking a week off to recover why am I freaking out about two days?   And with a possible 50k coming up at the beginning of August I want to make sure I get in a few solid weeks of hard training before I start to taper. That may not happen if keep toying around with this cold.

The focus should be on my over all health. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still not going to schedule rest days and I still plan on completing the streak. I’m just hoping that during some stretch of my life that 99% of the time where the goals of the streak and fitness coincide will span over 1,000 days.

Michael: Due to Circumstances...

Cows on a cow truck
Head to tail and tail to head
Must wonder what’s up?

Sunday, June 26, 2016

“Due to circumstances beyond our control,” should definitely be part of this region’s of Panama theme. It’s also neutral sounding enough to perhaps intrigue tourists.

Lightning, for example, what’dya going to do about it? The lightning that struck nearby a couple of days ago caused a power surge and split a cable in half on one of the main road transfer boxes. (The ‘transfer box’ I’m making up. I don’t know what it’s called, but transfer box sounds accurate and is better than calling it doohickey. But now that the net’s back up I can look it up. I won’t. But I am going to look up the derivation of the term ‘doohickey’).

The power surge then traveled along the phone line and entered our cottage  and continued to our splitter. There it had 5 choices; it could go up the line to our internet modem, it could go through our land phone line, it could do both; it could stop; or it could go back. However electricity works, it chose the modem and left the 15 year old General Electric phone our landlord loaned us alone. Go figure.

It also may have taken out our landlord’s rotor and computer. She’s got to take them in and have them looked at. She does have internet again, just no way to access it.

So two days so far this year without the net. That’s manageable. It didn’t come at the best of times with Kimme being in the states. In order to contact her I had to walk about 15 minutes to the internet café, but it’s a nice walk.

It’s odd that people use the expression, “shit happens” to reference unwanted occurrences. But shit doesn’t just happen. At least I hope not. It ought to be like clock work and seen as a sign of good health. A lightning strike on a transfer box; now that’s a more apt example of an uncommon and problematic event. How to work that into a pithy phrase like “shit happens” I’m not sure about. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s not in the lexicon around here.

Michael: World Markets; World Pockets to Pick

The white knuckled clouds
Grasp the volcano’s bald head
In a childlike way.

Saturday, June 25, 2016

It doesn’t seem to matter where you live in the world your subject to identity theft and credit card fraud. The only difference living overseas is that mailing new  I.D./cards out involves multiple agencies and is a longer and more time consuming endeavor.

As far as filing the theft reports goes, those can be scanned just like in the states. The phone calls and filings are still a hassle, but they’re a hassle no matter where you are.

One difference is when you’re living overseas foreign based companies are far less likely to call you back. That, at times, can be problematic if for instance the company representative tells you they want to do some investigating then call you back. That’s not likely to happen when you’re living overseas.

I’ve had my pocket picked in the states. I’ve had it picked while I was living here. I don’t know how profitable or risky electronic pick pocketing is, but it sure does seem to happen with much greater frequency than the old fashioned up close and personal thievery.

Michael: Hotel Don Tavo and Columbo

Today’s warm breeze
And undulating sunshine
Soothe an old soul.

Friday, June 24, 2016

I hadn’t been in the Hotel Don Tavo or seen Lt. Columbo in over a year. I thought I’d left that pesky thick haired Italian in my rear view mirror long ago. Don’t get me wrong. I love the guy and admire his work but I was hoping not to see the old wily crime stopper for a while.

So what does the LAPD’s best homicide detective have to do with the hotel, Panama and me. It’s really not all that much of a mystery.

With the lightning jolt the other night that took out our phone and internet for what may be a couple of days, I’ve got to take a 15 minute walk to the hotel to use the net. That’s the Hotel Don Tavo part.

Columbo comes in at night just like he always does when your winding down and not expecting his knock. Why? Because last week when I went to storage I didn’t take the time to go through it and see if I could find any of my other old DVDS. Columbo’s all I’ve got.

Come on in old buddy. Ask whatever you want and really I’m not just saying that. What would be cool though is if your main suspect dropped in. Then I could talk to them about their little mistakes and then watch what would happen when they correct them.

Michael: Lightning Jolt

Lea the pit bull
Looks as vicious as any
Friendly dog could get.

Thursday, June 23, 2016

A little thunder and lightning show is very common here, but last night I was plucked from the audience and almost singed by the performance.

Amidst the usual flashes and rumbles came a jolt so powerful I thought it blew one of the windows open because almost simultaneous with the jolt was the sound of something bounce across the floor.

The electricity was out for a few minutes so I lit a candle and went to investigate. All the windows were closed but when the electricity came back up the internet and phone were out. Great, Kimme’s away and I have no way of contacting her.

Near the dining table I noticed a small square of white plastic that had been singed on one side. Odd. Turns out it was part of the cover for the line splitter between the phone line and the internet box. I unplugged the phone from the splitter and tried to connect directly to the phone line to see if that would work. No luck. That’s when I noticed the line missing from the splitter to the internet box. I found that line on the floor near the phone stand. It had been singed off at both ends and the connecting clips were still in the internet box and splitter. I also noticed the internet box had some black residue on it right where the clip from the line plugs into it. And just this morning I discovered half of the eight outlets to our power modulator are shorted out.

Then, also this morning, while I was waiting to contact our neighbor and landlord, Luzmila, to report the problem she called over to me to ask if I had electricity. Their’s went out and her nephew’s phone needed charging so she could report that her internet was out.

That was my first live action experience of  lightning damage. A short circuit. A blown fuse, I could understand, but blowing apart plastic and singing wires, I hadn’t expected that.

Michael: A Small Adventure

A mamaseta,
Coffee and bright morning sun
Works to start the day.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

A bus ride of any length here is bound to provide an opportunity for a small adventure if you keep your eyes open. Yesterday, for instance, on my 4 hour round trip journey to pay our storage unit fee a few moments pop out.

First off a man that sat in front of me handed me a small pamphlet called El Cuarto. It was all in Spanish but when I looked on the back of it, it says it’s published by the Mennonites in the U.S. I couldn’t tell a Mennonite from a Shiite in a theist line up but I decided to hold onto it as a measure of my Spanish abilities. Right now it doesn’t make sense because I can’t read much of it. When I reach the level where I can read it but it still doesn’t make sense, I’ll feel I’ll have made real progress.

Just a bit further down the road the bus pulled over not to pick up or drop off a passenger, but so that the bus assistant could pick some over hanging fruit. He didn’t even have to step off the bus.

Coming back to Volcan after leaving David a man asked the assistant if he could address the bus. I believe he was making a plea for his sick daughter. Some people gave him change.

At the Bugaba stop, where the bus turns off the Pan American Highway and turns up the scenic windy road toward Volcan, there are usually two familiar vendors. One sells pork rinds, fried bananas and drinks served in baggies. The other serves ice cream. The pork rind seller walks around the bus and does his transactions through the windows while the ice cream dude usually boards the bus.

Between the road from Bugaba to Volcan many elementary students board the bus to make a short trip to their homes on the fincas (farms). It still amazes me when a 5 year old girl exit’s the bus to walk down a long farm road by herself. I’m not sure that wouldn’t be seen as some form of negligence in the states.

Further up the road and almost into Volcan the bus stopped at some house and the driver got off and gave an old woman $10 for something in a small plastic bag. Have no idea what it was, but you never know what private transaction you might get to sit through on a bus ride here.

A lot of people somehow manage to sleep through all of this free entertainment, but it’s still new and amusing to me.