La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.
Yesterday was another exciting day in Fuengirola. I folded laundry and picked up the house in preparation for Isabel’s arrival to clean today. I edited all my photos from my Tuesday in Málaga. I watered and talked to some plants. I put away a bunch of old framed photos that had been sitting on shelves in the bedroom and unpacked San Geraldo’s Russian bear toy collection. I’ll share photos of those another day.
SG was in the Soviet Union on a student trip in 1970 and started collecting Russian bear toys. Most have survived. Russian bears are apolitical. We are not. We aren’t buying any now. However, it’s nice to have them on display again. They evoke memories of a gentler time — when Russia was home to a crushing authoritarian regime.
We had a friend in Washington D.C. in the 1980s who had a very talkative parakeet (budgerigar) named Tori. Our friend taught Tori to say, “Workers of the world unite. You have nothing to lose but your chains.” It was impressive. Over time, however, Tori (who was always asking for orange juice) got confused and instead said, “Workers of the world unite. You have nothing to lose but your juice.”
I chatted with The Kid Brother last night. We chat every Tuesday. I knew yesterday was Wednesday except for when it came to chatting with The Kid Brother. I somehow missed the Tuesday call. One very large brain fart. There must have been a staff member in the apartment, because he chatted from his bedroom instead of from the dining room. And he had the TV on full blast. I asked if there was someone there. He said “What?” I asked again. He said, “Where?” I said, at the top of my voice, “You need to turn down the TV! You can’t hear me!” “I can hear you!” “Then why do I have to repeat everything?” His response: “What?” I gave up. I didn’t realize I was a day off until I wished him a good day at work and he laughed. He said, “I just got back!” “You worked today?” “Yeah!” But you told me you’re still working Wednesdays.” “I do!”“But then why did you work today?” “This IS Wednesday, you knucklehead!” We laughed. I apologized and then we signed off. I was tired of yelling. I had a headache and my throat hurt.
Let’s return to Lagunillas in Málaga and the faces of the people, comrade. After that conversation with The Kid Brother, I need some of what that guy is smoking in the top image. Come to think of it, maybe I’ve already had too much.
Ayer fue otro día emocionante en Fuengirola. Doblé la ropa y recogí la casa en preparación para la llegada de Isabel para limpiar hoy. Edité todas mis fotos de mi martes en Málaga. Regué y hablé con algunas plantas. Guardé un montón de viejas fotos enmarcadas que habían estado en los estantes del dormitorio y desempaqué la colección de juguetes de osos rusos de San Geraldo. Compartiré fotos de esos otro día.
SG estaba en la Unión Soviética en un viaje de estudiantes en 1970 y comenzó a coleccionar juguetes de osos rusos. La mayoría ha sobrevivido. Los osos rusos son apolíticos. No somos. No estamos comprando nada ahora. Sin embargo, es bueno tenerlos en exhibición nuevamente. Evocan recuerdos de una época más apacible — cuando Rusia era el hogar de un régimen autoritario aplastante.
Teníamos una amiga en Washington D.C. en la década de 1980. Ella tenía un periquito muy hablador llamado Tori. Nuestra amiga le enseñó a Tori a decir con su vocecita de periquito: “¡Proletarios de todos los países, uníos! No tienes nada que perder excepto tus cadenas.” Fue impresionante. Con el tiempo, sin embargo, Tori (que siempre estaba pidiendo zumo de naranja) se confundió y en su lugar dijo: “Trabajadores del mundo, uníos. No tienes nada que perder excepto tu zumo”.
Charlé con El Hermanito anoche. Charlamos todos los martes. Sabía que ayer era miércoles, excepto cuando se trataba de charlar con El Hermanito. De alguna manera perdí la llamada del martes. Un pedo cerebral muy grande. Debe haber habido un miembro del personal en el apartamento, porque hablaba desde su habitación en lugar de desde el comedor. Y tenía la televisión a todo volumen. Pregunté si había alguien allí. Él dijo “¿Qué?” pregunté de nuevo. Él dijo: “¿Dónde?” Dije, con todas mis fuerzas: “¡Tienes que bajar el volumen de la televisión! ¡No puedes oírme!” “¡Puedo oírte!” “Entonces, ¿por qué tengo que repetir todo?” Su respuesta: “¿Qué?” Me di por vencido. No me di cuenta de que tenía un día libre hasta que le deseé un buen día en el trabajo y se rió. Él dijo: “¡Acabo de regresar!”. “¿Trabajaste hoy?” “¡Sí!” “Pero me dijiste que todavía trabajas los miércoles.” “¡Sí!” “Pero entonces, ¿por qué trabajaste hoy?” “¡Este ES miércoles, cabeza de chorlito!” Nos reímos. Me disculpé y luego nos despedimos. Estaba cansado de gritar. Me dolía la cabeza y me dolía la garganta.
Volvamos a Lagunillas en Málaga y las caras de la gente. Después de esa conversación con El Hermanito, necesito un poco de lo que está fumando ese tipo en la imagen superior. Ahora que lo pienso, tal vez ya he tenido demasiado.
Click the thumbnails to enlarge.
Haz clic en las miniaturas para ampliar.
29 thoughts on “Power to the people / Poder a la gente”
The two of you could make a vaudeville act, who is on first, with Chuck playing the straight man. Such talented artists, I hope some of it makes it into durable places.
Wednesday night, The Kid Brother kept returning to Welcome Back, Kotter… because of all the “whats.” He was Vinnie Barbarino. I only took the bait once. The conversation itself was difficult enough without feeding the bear.
I think after a call like that I too may have required a strong G&T, or two myself.
Oh, dear god. I love the “kid” but sometimes…
I love the Abbott-and-Costello-ness of your chats with the Kid Brother.
This week, after a few “whats,” he tried to make light of it all by switching into Vinnie Barbarino mode from Welcome Back, Kotter.
Ah, Mister Kot-tear!
Signed Epstein’s Mother.
“I folded laundry and picked up the house in preparation for Isabel’s arrival to clean today.” Whenever we stay in a hotel I have to make the bed and pick up before leaving for the day lest the housekeeping staff think we are slobs (we can be).
As my mother used to say, “Well, we don’t want her to think we’re uncivilized.” I pick up the house and put things away, so Isabel can get to the cleaning. She does it all if we don’t and then we don’t know where anything is.
Right on, brother!
He drives me crazy and he makes me laugh.
Folding laundry is one chore I find relaxing.
You know, these days you don’t have to actually smoke it to reap the benefits! 😉
We’ve got a shop right in the neighborhood. I’ve been tempted to buy gummies. I love gummies. Although I’ve never had spiked gummies.
Oh! You made it to Lagunilla? These are all wonderful!! They’ve added some since I was there, or they painted over some? Hard to say. Either way, lovely sreet art!
I have so many more photos to share, and I know I didn’t see a lot of what’s there. I’m so grateful to you for posting about it. I knew there was a lot of graffiti in Málaga I hadn’t seen. Stunning.
I’d love to train a parakeet to screech some of the lines from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, such as:
“I’m loud and I’m vulgar, and I wear the pants in the house because somebody’s got to, but I am not a monster. I’m not!”, or:
“You’re all flops. I am the Earth Mother, and you are all flops!”
Scare the beejeesus out of the postman! Jx
We had a hand-reared (by us) Yellow-naped Amazon Parrot. Known for having chronic PMS. He (it turned out probably she) was a phenomenal talker and singer (we spent a lot of time). Speaking of the postman. When someone came to the door, the bird would yell cheerfully, “We’ve got company! We’ve got company!” But if she was not in the mood for company, she would screech, “Bye-bye!!! See you later!!!“
Given the international date line, I’m surprised you and your Kid Brother are ever on the same day.
Thank goddess I’ve never had to try and explain THAT to him (not that I would even try).
Ah, memories of being at a party in 1983/84 (when I was 18/19) where some were smoking marijuana. The resident parakeet = one stoned parrot!
Michelle Cooper in New Zealand (I like the way that sounds):
My best friend at university and I took Conditioning and Learning. It was a lab with our lab rats. After the lab was done, we got to keep our rats — or they’d be fed to a snake in the science lab. My friend’s dorm suite was always filled with partying guys smoking pot. That poor rat was the coolest and strangest I’d ever seen.
Yeah, the parakeet was happy!
Michelle (Cooper in New Zealand):
And always hungry!
OMG, that story about the budgerigar made me laugh out loud. I had no idea budgies could talk. I thought only larger parrots could talk.
Of the art, I am intrigued most by the guy passed out on the bench being enveloped by the octopus.
I had heard budgies talk before, but this one was especially gifted. It was hilarious to hear it go on in this tiny little twittery voice that sounded like it was coming from a distance. The most I had ever heard before that was my friend’s who repeated his name constantly: Yogi Lutzybird. Yogi Lutzybird.
Your first line made me smile: Yesterday was another exciting day in Fuengirola. I folded laundry.
That’s my life in a nutshell.
It’s funny. Reading it back, it sounds kind of blissful.