The Great Pumpkin

Boo!

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Part of the problem with holding down a job and trying to write a lot, is that the job stuff usually takes up so much time that writing takes the proverbial back seat. And, as humbly as I entered into this period of employment, my employers have discovered that I am somewhat more talented at this task or that task, and now I am busy all of the time. And in the middle of all of it, my relationship with Rocio seems to be disintegrating logarithmically, and I can’t explain why.

And then there is this time change, this retreat from daylight-savings time. Spring forward and fall back.

My empirical observation, here from Baja: Mexicans, on the whole, do not spring forward very well; Mexicans can fall back like professional soccer players can feign injury.

Suddenly, six o’clock in the morning is like a beehive here. Everyone here is up-and-at-‘em in a big hurry all of the sudden; the border was horrible this morning, as if everyone slept in an extra hour and all hit the same place at the same time. This only goes to prove that the sun has more to do with how human beings react to their environment that some clock or watch or other device invented by people who don’t have the necessity to live their lives by any of their own inventions. Sort of like when politicians pass laws that they won’t have to obey.

Sort of like that.

And I have dozens of wonderful and not so wonderful experiences in my head, all demanding to be set down – chronicled in text. I want to write about the concert that Anna and me never got to see, about the special people on the trolley, and about falling on my rib cage.

I need to tell you about the colt that should have won the Breeder’s Cup Juvenile race except that the reigns snapped off coming into the backstretch.

Until I can find the time to do that, then I would like to say this: Happy Halloween. Or, Feliz Dia De Los Muertos.

Or whatever makes you smile when you hear the word, “Boo!”

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Oh, and one more thing:

Boo!