This is Dr. Martin Cooper of the Motorola company. He is credited with the invention of the cell phone. In fact, he's holding the first cell phone ($3,500.00 when it came out in 1983) called the "Motorola DynaTAC 8000X." The first cellular telephone call was made by Cooper in 1973 to his rival across the street at Bell Labs, Joel Engel. Perhaps you recognize this phone from watching Saved By The Bell. It's the phone that preppy, Zach Morris regularly used. As interesting as this may be, I like giving credit where credit is due. Dr. Cooper was not the first one to invent the cell phone or make the first call. ===>

I clearly remember watching Maxwell Smart do that. I think Dr. Cooper was just rippin' off ideas of of television. So where does this come from, Miguel? Where the hell are you going with this??? I shall tell you, faithful reader.

Well, I was buying S.O. a new phone the other day and I noticed that there were two couples there getting phones for the family. I mean, one dad was getting 5 phones! The other was just getting 3. Each had kids as young as ten getting phones.

Are you kidding me??? Back when I was a kid, we were expressly forbidden to even answer the house phone! Man, times are changing. And that may be a good thing, or not, depending on the subject.

******************UPDATE***************************

And the other thing I was thinking about was that every generation thinks that they are so original, or superior in some way. What they don't realize is that history repeats itself more often than not. Fashions, hairstyles, a bunch of things...they've been used before. For example:

Not too long ago, I was watching one of those dance movies at a car maintenance shop's waiting room. I was pretty bored and unfortunately, there was no control for the tv. Besides it was a movie that jut kept playing over and over. Not sure what it was called...but they're pretty much all the same. Anyway, there were a couple of teenage kids there too and they were really into the movie. They were dancing along with the tv! I gotta tell you, I was thoroughly entertained! Anyway, we got to talking and they were both learning how to Crip Walk (or C walk). Being from LA, I was very familiar with it and even knew how to dance it myself...ha! Just kidding. I'd never heard of it before. My experience has been limited to pole dancing for sweaty men in a smoke filled bar...okay, maybe that's not true either. I've never been much of a dancer...not because I lack rhythm or coordination, but because dancing in clubs was considered slippin' in times past, and I've never let down my guard like that...anyway, my point:

Look familiar? And I was watching that in the 70's! This is nothing new. By the way, I loved that show! They need to bring The Gong Show back on the air!

No matter how good a person you are, you have flaws...and yes, that includes me. It seems that the closer we come to New Years...the more people are suggesting that I quit smoking. Now, let me be clear. I do smoke...about a 2 packs a week, but compared to times past, that's not too bad. I used to be a 3 pack a day smoker for many years. In fact, back when I started this is what I remember paying ==>

These days, things have changed. Now I practically have to take out a second mortgage on my house in order to support my habit. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating slightly. Slightly. 

I know. I know....

It could be worse.

************NEW POST IN THE WORKS****************

Today I'm 42. Forty Two. Cuarenta y dos. Yeah, I admit that I'm well past my prime. I'll be the first to tell you that I've slowed down... and reek of Icy Hot or Tiger Balm most nights. Pathetic? Perhaps. But I've come to the realization that these are in fact bonus years, and I should be grateful for them. And I am. I'm at peace. Or maybe it's me trying to stay positive... since I really don't have a choice in the matter anyway. Whatever. But life isn't so bad. I mean, once I've drained the batteries off of my nose hair clipper from the almost daily grooming and tweezed the protruding ear hair out...life isn't so bad. And there are in fact bonuses in getting older. From buying cigarettes and alcohol without being carded, to car insurance rates being significantly less. Of course, I'd trade that in, for a pair of firme viejas in a heartbeat! But, really, even if I did end up fornicating with a pair of barely over 18 cheerleaders, I'm betting I'd throw my back out and spend most of the time apologizing and saying things like, "slow down honey, my heart can't take this." or "Hey my name is Miguel, not Gumby...what's with all the freaky positions?" And how could I live with myself if I had to stop due to shortness of breath, doing the one thing I once held a PhD in??? No, no , no. I'll just stay retired and leave all that good stuff to the younger generation. And perhaps there is a bit of sarcasm in my writing...because truth be told, I'd just perform my ass off and then die of a heart attack after they left. I'd never admit to being too old...at least for that.

What I do know is that though I'm only 42...the life I lived makes me feel well into my 60's. And I'm not just talking out of my anal cavity, that's the truth. Life's experiences make me wealthy in knowledge. Wisdom comes from experience and not simply by being smart. I think it's ironic that I used to think I knew more than my parents or people who were much older simply because I had a half decent noodle. I realize now that the younger generation always knows more and feels that they know more about life than the people who've actually experienced it and made the same mistakes (and learned from them) before they were even born. Now I look back and wonder how I could have been so arrogant. I guess that's life though. In the end, our children need to find their own way, and sometimes even make their own mistakes in order to actually learn what we already know. But what can we do? I mean, I realize that not everyone likes to hear advice or have people tell them about life...and our children loathe the times (for the most part) we try and talk to them about mistakes we want them to avoid. We do it out of love. We continue to do it even though we know how it will be received...but what else can we do?

Perhaps some day, one of our kids will break that cycle and actually take our word for something and avoid pain or discomfort...and then it will be worth it. I wonder how many people have gone back to tell their parents that they are grateful for what they tried to do? Personally, I'd hate it when my mother used to tell me, "you can't understand now...but when you have children of your own, you will." And guess what? Uneducated and unschooled mom was right. Now, as a parent, I do understand.

And maybe...just maybe, I'll be able to relate to my kids more than my parents were able to relate to me. If God gives me a few more years, I vow to make that my goal in life. Not that I don't try now...but I know that I can do a lot better. And If that means more ass, nose, and ear hair then I say BRING IT ON!

Thoughts???

So tonight, my boss decided to take us all out to Christmas dinner  with our spouses. We went to Chili's. Besides the 40 minute wait (though we had a reservation) it wasn't too bad. But during the said wait, we were as cattle, being bumped and pressed on from all sides due to overcrowding in the waiting area. So rather than continue being bumped and shoved from all sides, I decided to wait outside in the cold and smoke a cigarette. While I was out there, I noticed three young ladies walking towards the front entrance in my direction. Two of the three pinched their nostrils shut and the third gave out an exaggerated cough as they passed me. I found it rather humorous and smiled. But then I began to notice that every single person that passed me by went out of their way to show me their disapproval. Almost without exception, both everyone who came outside on their way home,and people coming in to eat gave a cough as they passed me.

Though I followed what I thought to be polite etiquette, namely, to refrain from blowing smoke in their face  or general direction as they passed me, I found that I didn't receive the same etiquette back. People were rude. The funny thing is that whenever I'm dressed in baggy Levi's and jerseys...people just walk nervously in front of me without the cough or distaste. They don't feel it their duty to show me how much they disapprove of my habits. But get me in a tie and dress clothes, and wow! I have my theories, but I want to know why you think that is?

Yeah, if you fart dust and pee rust, like me, you will no doubt remember watching this cartoon ==>

Oh, there's so many ways I can go with this, it's hard to just pick one! Okay, though there are several life lessons we can learn from that old cartoon, I'm going to focus on just two things. Liquid Courage, and Trying.

So, in the cartoon, in order to turn into his alter ego, "Superchicken", Henry must take his "Super Sauce." Of course, this sauce really doesn't enhance his fighting skill, or strength, or coordination....or anything, for that matter. But in his mind, it does. It isn't until he gets his ass kicked (every time), that he realizes this...and yet, he toughs it out. And in the end, the situation works itself out somehow, and Henry (Superchicken), is a hero.

There is a definite similarity between super sauce and liquid courage. And in reality, just as in Superchicken's case, in our mind, we become He-man after six or seven beers...with the same results...though in the end, it doesn't usually work out, as it does for Henry.

My point though, is the fact that even when the odds or not in his favor, or he is clearly out of his league, he presses forward... regardless of the outcome.

And we had a similar superhero around the same time, El Chapulin Colorado. Same thing, same concept, except he just wore the ridiculous outfit without taking anything. But in the end, he somehow resolved the situation at hand.

I like that. I think that all of us can be heroes. All it takes is determination and courage (not liquid courage though). We don't have to have super strength, magical powers, or wear funky ass outfits. We can be heroes by simply living good lives and taking care of our responsibilities. Working jobs we don't like everyday to put food on the table on clothes on our children's backs...there is honor in that. In the end, if we do this, things will usually work out.

Thoughts???

**oh, by the way, check out a video I posted on my videos section...it's damn funny!

So this morning, Michael Vick was sentenced to 23 months in prison for his role in dogfighting rings. I won't even get into animal rights or cruelty, and yes, maybe there is a little bitterness on my part...but... the way my mind works, I always compare things like this to the sentencing of the Rampart scandal policemen, namely Rafael Perez (who has since changed his name legally to Ray Lopez) and how this compares to it.

So lets get this straight Rafael Perez served time from February of 2000 to July of 2001. That makes it about a year and five months (17 months total). What did he get convicted of? Only the stealing of 8 pounds of cocaine from a police evidence room (which he sold for over 800,000 dollars), involved in a bank robbery coverup in which 722,000 were stolen, and shot and framed Javier Ovando (who is forever paralyzed) on attempted murder charges. Of course these were just things that were proven, and led to his convictions. Of course there were many other things he did.

Then there's Michael Vick who was found guilty of fighting Pitbulls in which eight lost their lives, and he gets more time than Perez did? I'm losing faith in our justice system.

                                                                                        I knew it!

Although it happened several years ago, I remember the incident clearly. It was the day I taught my then five-year-old son about racism. Jumping into our car after school he pointed out a classmate and announced, "I don’t like him." He was pointing at the only African American boy standing outside. I responded that he should never judge someone on the basis of his or her skin color. He looked at me with wide eyes and I could tell I had his attention. I spent the rest of the short drive home explaining how everyone is different, why it was important to be nice to everyone, to include them and so on. It is rare to keep a five year old’s attention for so long. I was feeling quite proud of myself that his intent gaze never strayed. As we pulled into the driveway, I somewhat smugly asked, "Do you understand what papa is trying to say?" He stated with some amazement, "I didn’t know his skin was different; I didn’t like him because he spit on me at lunch." I was stunned. I pictured the next day my little boy at school would be telling all of his classmates that this little boy was different. I had planted the first seeds of racism in my young son's mind. I believe the incident stays fresh in my mind because it forced me to question my beliefs. Could I be a racist?

I think that when we hear that word racist, our minds instantly evoke images of burning crosses and hoods...certainly not us. We never see ourselves as racist. Well, at least I don't. I can't speak for anyone else...I'm assuming it's that way for others. But then, I ask myself honestly...do I think I'm better than somebody else? 

For years I felt hated by people of other races, and I returned that hatred.  They were cruel when I was younger and still weak. I endured cruelty from adults as well as children. Years later, I was no longer the prey...I had become the predator. And I made sure that I made up for everything I was subjected to. But in doing so, I had become what made me. The day I realized it, I made an effort to change my way of thinking, and have tried to be a good person. I try and judge people by who they are and not by their ethnicity or skin color. I can honestly say though that I still have room for improvement!

When I had children of my own, times were different. Overt racism was something of the past. Schools were much more diversified these days. There were even ESL (English as a Second Language) classes offered to help children from other cultures learn to speak English. Teachers were no longer allowed to hit or spank students...or make them wash their mouths out with soap for speaking Spanish. I'm sure that my kids have experienced racism in one form or another, I'd be a fool to think otherwise. We are all just human after all. Nevertheless, it doesn't compare to my experiences. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. We shall see.

THOUGHTS?

This is a spoof of John Singleton's "Boyz N The Hood" movie. Bernie Mac is such a funny dude!

"Mi Papá said to me that we, los Indios, the Indians, were like the weeds. That roses you had to water and give fertilizer or they'd die. But weeds, indigenous plants, you gave them nada-nothing; hell, you even poisoned them and put concrete over them, and those weeds would still break the concrete, reaching for the sunlight of God. That's the power of our people...we're the weeds, LAS YERBAS DE TODO EL MUNDO!" ~Victor Villaseñor  

I bought this book a few days ago and read it yesterday. I highly recommend it. I normally don't read a book from start to finish without stopping, but the writer held my attention from start to finish. It got me thinking about some of the things that I've forgotten. In his memoir, he mentions the teachings from his Indian grandparents. The things that seem silly or ridiculous to adults of this day and age.

Quichè (kee-ch-eh) Indians were my early guardians. They were my grandparents. Both my grandmother and grandfather taught me their culture and beliefs. I don't ever talk about the things they taught me. Maybe it's because I'm afraid of hearing someone giggle or ridicule their beliefs. I hold those things sacred. And even I have trouble understanding now. It goes against science and proven knowledge. Somewhere deep down though, I believe that they were right. What they said and how they explained things just felt true....right. Who knows? Perhaps someday I'll come to realize that their knowledge was greater than ours. Either way, I feel that one should never be ashamed of their roots, or culture. It should be respected if not held sacred.

What Do You Think?

 ..."56-year-old Irish/Mexican beauty is a Hollywood superhero too! She manged to stay married to the same man for 23 years."

That was the caption on this picture. Seriously, I can't believe someone would ask that or wonder why! Duh! She still wears the Wonder Woman outfit in the bedroom! Why would anyone think of leaving???

I've been working in a domestic capacity for the past couple of days...not by choice, mind you. I've been trying to get over being sick...I'm guessing pneumonia or bronchitis, but I'll never know. I hate doctors and I avoid them at all costs. I have to be really sick for me to go. How sick you ask? Well, perhaps this sick ==>

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration...but just slightly less sick than that, and then maybe I'd go. So while at home, I find it hard to just relax. I hate a messy house and with 3 kids...a clean house is almost an impossibility! So, in between cleaning and picking up after my disgusting hellions, I've been napping. And that got me thinking. I would have made a damn fine bear! Really, if reincarnation is true, I no longer want to come back as Jessica Alba's dog...nope. I want to be a bear. What a life. No real predators, just eating and sleeping...I could handle that. So I apologize for neglecting Xanga these past days. I'll make my way around today.

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