Tuesday, December 20, 2011

DOMINANT DORKS AT THE GYM

I have been surprised by the response to one of my recent posts.  One dealing with the brutal noise, and related issues. Now is time to share my observations about the many customers between the ages of 20 and 45.

Many gays go together to work out with free weights, cables, but rarely use the different aerobic machines to increase stamina and weight loss.  Non gay customers are also guilty, as if a good sweat was some kind of a sin.

Same goes for the dorks, classical macho men doing every exercise with excess weight, unable to control it, and constantly checking themselves on the mirrors.  To compensate, they swing the torso to get momentum, increasing the possibility of getting hurt.  Dropping the the 40/50 pounds dum bells on the floor shaking the whole gym.

The concept of set, repetition, group muscle is absent, judging from my observations.

Quite a few men and women are unable to leave their phones in the locker. It is a real trip, for yours truly to watch these fools interrupting the work out to engage in silly conversations, evidently not emergencies, particularly while in the stationary bicycle or treadmill.  There is one character into text messaging between repetitions.


There another wimp that spend most of his time chatting with those who actually work out. The problem is that thanks to the music volume, hollering is mandatory and one have to listen to his conversation five/ten feet away. A pain in the ass if you ask me.  He is not the only one. Some trainers are also in the same bag, unaware of the irritation it causes to people trying to concentrate in what they do.


Perhaps the greatest oddity are those who bring their Ipods and similar gadgets to 'listen' to their musical preferences. However, the  loudspeakers in the gym are so intense that they have to turn theirs so high, that innocent victims near by can hear the treble from their earphones on the treadmill/bike, another pain in the butt.


The trainers?  It does not matter if they are men or woman, black or white, they seem infatuated with the red ball, exercises requiring extreme effort, too often with tension wires. What the hell they try to accomplish with this, is a mystery to your humble servant. When you observe carefully it seems therapeutic treatment instead of exercising to be healthy and handsome.


One would imagine that people out of shape, who never practiced sports, or played with crap in the cradle, need to develop stamina, tone, some muscle, not resistance to this or that. At any case one thing should come before the other, but it is not the case at the gym.


My routine and philosophy?

It started in adolescence.  Weight lifting to develop my skinny, muscle less frame.  Favorite muscles to work out: deltoids, biceps, triceps, forearms, trapezius and chest in that order.

The need to move correctly to develop the group muscles avoiding any chance to get hurt with adequate weight.  Most everything one needs to know, I learned by 16, from Muscle Builder Magazine.


In those days there were no steroids. You had to drink lousy tasting proteins with milk and banana shakes.


Addominals were part of the routine, but not any longer. Squats and leg exercises are a waste of time if you ask me.


The use of treadmill and stationary bike will develop those muscles if you work out with discipline.


I usually burn between 500 and  800 calories not counting those in addition to my weight lifting routine.


Something these gym dorks/freaks and else never
mention is eating less.  If you eat like a pig, burning calories in the gym is a waste of time, if looking young, handsome and fit is the goal.


Finally, when I watch the curves from my triceps, the ribs without the 25 pounds lost, the 2 inches in me waist gone, while brushing me teeth,  I feel some joy...


that is that

Sunday, December 18, 2011

PINK POT POST

 from the editor
Due to a silly error or technical difficulties If I may, in this post, photos and story do not match exactly.  Organize the material, or inquire.

A pot  could make or break a plant or your installation.  Those orangy cheap plastic ones, change  colors with the UV rays, cracking when  moved  and what the hell, I hate them.

Today I will present examples of some plant location changes.  I prefer rectangular to round pots. There are plastic, concrete, clay and fiberglass at home. I chose  based on aesthetics, irrigation and durability issues. Shape, size and volume of the selected plant is also considered. Some plants do not look their best in one or the other.  That is why, once in a while location changes are imperative.

The pink clay pot was recycled a week ago..Me wife saw it in the same yard where I found the concrete disk with the Agave in  the west garden.  Both were part of a typical corny water fountain from Home Depot.  Now they are doing much better in my humble one.

The beige pot in the stupid useless dolly is fiberglass. The plant is a Zamia, an endemic one. A gift from 
Rengui.  When I found the clay pot in  the tittle, I thought that it will look better in pink. Another reason is that I will not have to change it again since this pot has twice the space for the root system.

The Crinum amabile was a present from Mercedes who passed away some time ago. It was in a concrete round pot Don Miguel gave me soon after we moved.
It is one of two, with legs, forty years old easily.  


The oriental looking pot, is a fake lacquered fiberglass with a Proiphys amboinensis a gift from Suncha. These plants remind me of a favorite, Hostas. Their flowers are fragrant, similar to Eucharis amazonica in size.

This water fountain disk is between 30/40 pounds.
It does not get flooded thanks to rags for capillary water extraction. 


that is  that

Friday, December 16, 2011

THE DOUBLE TREE by HILTON PARKING LOT MYSTERY ROBBERY

24 hours ago I reported the disappearance of our 2005, Mitsubishi Outlander rear view covers, by email. The next day I had to make a phone call, since Angel Gomez, the Facilities Manager, has computer phobia.  

He tells me that he needs more information about the vehicle and minutes later I sent the information.  Again, he refuses to answer the 2nd email, (both at the bottom).


I made an appointment to watch the blurry security video clip taken at the entrance of the parking lot, today. It shows someone (impossible to say if man or woman) driving a similar vehicle one hour ago. The vehicle arrives at  6:48 PM.   However me wife and I arrived at 7:15 for a work out at LIVfitnessclub.*


Moral of the story, if your vehicle is damaged or vandalized in such parking lots they will always find  some loophole to screw you. 

This Sherlock, yours truly, never rests...The suspicious mind wonders...If there was only ONE white Outlander on the premises with 8 cameras and one lonely employee on the day of the robbery...what is the point, feeble minded?


AFTER I watched the shitty video, machine gun like multiple inquiring questions were asked...This is the FIRST 'alleged robbery' since 2008, according to the young handsome, well dressed, clean cut modersoker.  
Why do they have 8 cameras and only show the victims one shitty video clip?  The ONLY one, while a white Outlander enters and exits...SON OF BEACHES!


MR. Angel Gomez argument?  The covers had  been stolen, before we got to their Double Tree by Hilton parking lot.  


The question arises by necessity....Why/how in the fucking world one will open the door of his/her vehicle without noticing the damned mirror to the left of the door handle? How can anyjuan miss the white cover missing?


The logical response from this Rhodes Scholar?  We have 8 or 10 parking and that happens a lot..Me cago en la madre que les pario. 


HERE the NEVER 
answered, emails for the record. No one gets away with murder on me necks of the wood.

First message
Saludos Angel Gomez,

Ayer miercoles los covertores de los retrovisores de nuestro auto, fueron robados en su estacionamiento entre las 7:15  PM y 8:30 PM, mientras visitamos el gimnasio.

Agradecere alguna respuesta sobre el asunto.

Cordialmente,\

 2nd  unanswered email
to agomez
Saludos,Vehiculo Mitsubishi Outlander blanco, cuatro puertas 2005.  Estacionado no lejos de la entrada de los elevadores.



Espero que ahora pueda investigar, y si no es mucho trabajo contestar el correo electronico. Tengo la impresion que si no le llamo, no hubiese contestado, considerando que leyo el mensaje anoche.

En mi opinion, contrario a la tendencia insular, es que el correo electronico, no solo es mas eficiente que lo telefonico, sino que deja constancia de los hechos y los actos..

Crdialmente,











Evidently our hero and his employers believe that  people who can afford the gym, are into scams using parking lots on the premises  to report fake robberies to get the 100/200 bucks to buy spare covers after some lengthy, pain in  the ass insurance/police station procedures.


that is that

Thursday, December 15, 2011

REFRIED POST FOR FAR AND NEAR BY FANS

Thursday, June 11, 2009

FROM THE ANGLOSPANO ARCHIVES: BWANA KATUNGA

PERHAPS it was mentioned before. It does not matter, the name was coined by yours truly while
working for the Criminal Justice Agency in Manhattan, among many islanders, too many, of those
islands where other languages than Spanish is spoken. The dull, dirty, smelly working space in a jail, One Police Plaza, was made worse by the pain in the ass, arrogant fools... Some readers may have noticed that I tilt toward humility most of the time. At any rate. The original anglospanoreview was a typed magazine lasting for tree issues. From the first edition of 1990, here is Bwana Katunga, an environmental story with African animals and atmosphere exactly
as it appeared then. Some critical readers will notice a little difference in style and storytelling.
Is not original. I am really sorry I can not find the reference, author or whatever. I hope you
will enjoy it as I still do. Other issues from the archives will appear for your eyes only. Stay tuned.
.

he was a hunter; well respected by everyone. for twenty years he had been hunting in this torrid african region. all the animals loved him, thanks to his poor aiming skills with rifles, and other hunting weapons. the natives, with just cause, gave him
the rank of katunga, or muzzle. evidently, the hunter was not aware of the real meaning of his aboriginal last name and was very proud of it.

one day, many moons ago, bwana katunga, also known a heineken katunga, because of his fondness for imported beer, was hunting in land where the white men had never set up foot. trucks, jeeps, four wheel drive vehicles, yes, but foot never.
after a long while shooting at different prey, unable to hit any, our hero was getting
ready to return to the encampment, when suddenly, he heard a deep groan. as a result of his many years in the jungle, he recognized it as the desperate cry of a deer that had fell in a trap.

as it happened often, his ability to distinguish the noise of each animal, did not
dissapoint him. when he got closer to the point where the groan was coming from,
thinking it was a deer, he discovered to his amazement, that it was an elephant. katunga was capable to confuse a groan of a lion with the warbling of a mockingbird
at a distance of two meters. the multiple scars on his body were evidence of this.
getting closer, our hero observed that the elephant had an enormous scar on his
left ear and his cries were caused by a gigantic thorn in his leg.

immediately, his hunter's instinct told him that he was in danger. but, once again,
he was mistaken. the pachyderm looked at him with pity and enormous tears came
running down his trunk. katunga had a good heart; using his hunter's knife, carefully, extracted the thorn. later, he searched in his first aid kit, that he carried
always for emergencies, for an elephant band aid. delicatelly, he wrapped the leg
and gave the elephant an alka seltzer the size of a trailer truck tire, falling asleep
peacefully for many hours after the effect. during the period of convalescence, katunga never rested. after some time, they separated and the elephant, happy
and healthy went galloping back to the jungle, crying out of happiness.

many, many moons after this, katunga lived days of misery, in rags. the hunter
was totally entangled; unable to move. he had been captured by aboriginal savages
into human sacrifices. firmly tied up to the ground, waiting for the roya elephant, adored by the aborigins, that would arrive at any time. guided by the witch doctor, the pachyderm would arrive to squash his head, as a part of the sacred ritual. when the time was up, the hunter saw the elephant getting closer, slowly, with his heavy
steps. he recognized him immediately; the deep scar in the elephant's ear. it was
him, the same one he had saved in the jungle!

in the precise intant when the elephant raised his leg to kill him, their eyes met.
there was a flash in the pachyderm eyes. the legendary and fabulous memory of
the animal will work again; in one second he remembered his benefactor. he
stopped, static, his leg on the air. the impossible was taking place. katunga,
the hunter, would be saved and the superstitious aborigins will not dare to bother
him again; believing it was a signal from their gods.

the elephant stayed frozen, to the astonishment of the aborigins. the tension was
intense, time seemed to have stopped. thoughts were spinning in katunga's mind,
thinking of his luck. with a fast and agile movement, the leg came squashing his
head. he did all this remembering perfectly who the hunter was.
moral of the story: the elephant has a prodigious memory, however, that does not stop him from being a son of a bitch.
to
carmen rolon
roland lapierre
julia santiago
martin anderson
friends
from moons ago


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Monday, December 12, 2011

GUANICA CITY MY KIND OF TOWN

IF you are a movie or jazz fan, Chicago, Boston,New York may be familiar towns/cities, even if you have never walked through out these walkable urban centers.

Down here, once upon a time, there were people who had never seen the  ocean in this 100 x 35 isle .  By di guay,  there was a  meaningless debate recently, as to the exact geographical measures, as if that would change our Hellenic or Roman obscure destiny, if you keep up financial updates.


Guanica and its country side have been my favorite for 35 years, long before endemismotrasnochado was spanning the globe. It is dry, with sparse, rare vegetation, even for those into the practice.
But the most important aspect, is the small population, no people/children/crowds,  my idea of joy, something that may soon become water and salt.

In Puerto Rico, there is a motor vehicle for every 2 people. Finding quiet and peace is cliche like  needle in  the haystack. To live here is to surrender to noise, a bubble of noise,  growing by the minute, without escape.  

That being written,
get acquainted.

THE DRY FOREST OF GUANICA

The Dry Forest of Guanica has been distinguished as probably being the xerophytic subtropical forest best preserved and less altered by man.  It was designated by the United Nations, as the Second Biosphere Reserve of Puerto Rico.  The area is the most dry, arid and the one with greater solar radiation, with annual rain precipitation of 35 inches and temperatures of 80F in  the shade and 100F or more in exposed areas.

The high mountains of the Central Mountains block rain clouds coursing in on the tropical trade winds blowing from the northeast.  Much of the rain evaporates before reaching the southern coast, other portion is lost to the hot
tropical sun or percolates readily through the thin porous soil, often flowing into uderground streams.  During the driest season, usually from December to April, almost half the trees drop their leaves, only to bloom and leaf out during the most humid season from August to  November. 

The topography is mostly wavy, with the western segment shallower than the eastern one.  There are differences in the terrain level, varying from high cliffs and steep rocky terrains like the ones bordering Guanica bay, which separates the forest in two segments.   The soils in the region vary from sandy to calcareous with the following combinations:

Superficial limestone soils and fine granulations with an adapted vegetation of xerophyte succulent plants, and spiny shrubs

Fine and soft limestone soils with small areas of sand and clay, with plentiful spiny shrubs and deciduous trees.

Sand and clay soils, with an abundant evergreen vegetation.

INFORMATION FROM 

FLOWERS AND EXOTICS FROM 
PUERTO RICO  
Edwin Miner Sola*
page 90 

To travel there, feels like going from Berth to Camberra, even though is only 3 hours, mostly in highway. I hate to be trapped in a car more than 45 minutes.

But is still worth it...Some of the most important plants in my collection grow there, or were collected* on the premises.

Guaicum officinale
Plumeria
Mesquite*
Merremia aegyptia*
Stigmaphyllon floribundum*


*The writer is a weird old timer
with no formal training in the field.
Nor you could find his name in the
www.  I had a not so pleasant chance to
chat with this misanthropist.  Unlike
yours truly, mr. congeniality.

that is that.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

2011 COUNTING BLESSINGS REVIEW

AS the financially, weather wise, chaotic year comes to end...I would like to share briefly, what it has been like in this neck of the concrete/asphalt woods Caribbean garden.  If interested in detail,  you may visit the other blog at the end.

November 
2010
Nardos i Azucenas Post 
Bipallum kewense, a weird looking insect appeared in the garden out of the blue. Responsible for the disappearance of  the predominant round
 snail population, and significant decrease of most snails.

February 2011

Dipteracanthus prostratus was featured with a correction in the botanical name.  This  self seeding ground cover  grows wild in the ground, concrete and asphalt. 'Domesticated' at home with purple and white flower varieties. Related to Ruellias.

May

Clerodendrum quadriculare is added to the over
100 Club Collection.  A present from Tito Collazo.

June

Sanseveria cylindrica, enters the scene thanks to a plant exchange with Maria, 
 gardening fan who noticed one of 3 varieties of asparagus in me garden.
Calathea loeseneri and Chryosothemis pulchella are added, thanks to Rengui, in law and close collaborator in the installation development through out the years.

July
Stygmaphyllon floribundum, a woody vine imported from Guanica, blooms for the first time. MesquiteMerremia aegyptia from seeds, members of that exclusive group from the southern city, enhance the surroundings.

August

Polianthes tuberosa and Gardenia augusta in the fragrance department bloom also for the first time.
December

Pepperomia pellucida and Parietaria make their debut.
All these plants appeared on specific posts in
caribbeanbotanicalreview, one of my blogs dedicated
to horticulture, propagation and collection. 

I want to thank everyone from the 5 continents,  who has dropped by during the last twelve months. 
I appreciate it, fan or foe.
Finally, I wish all the best for what is left of 2011 and 2012.

that is that

Monday, December 5, 2011

I PERCEPTION AND ENVIRONMENT

WATCHING the before game security preparations in Madrid, between the two dominant wealthy futbol tribes of that Peninsula, I became  overwhelmed at the noise, alcohol infusion, hate, chaos, war, battle within  the game atmosphere. It is scary and educative.

One silly part of the liturgy, not understood at all, is the stupid action of carrying children by the hand to the midfield for ritual ceremonies that are pretty feudal if you ask me. 
Why are children exposed to that  atmosphere?


Later on a documentary about the developments during the last twenty years in  the former Soviet Union, the absurd, absolute corruption in that country between the dominant and dominated classes, all, in the frame of democracy and elections. 

Which brings your humble servant to this...What is the point of developing motor vehicles with the most sophisticated non polluting technology, if  every other big city in the world, has an amount of vehicles so great that traffic jams, in some, are permanent? 

 What is the point, if traveling twenty miles requires two hours in a jam at five/ten miles an hour?  One will be stuck, burning non fossil fuel of whatever kind available.

The fanaticism and violence, shown in sport is not much different from  media reports regarding Muslims, Hebrews, Christians and Hindus show too often.

Governments killing those revolting for their 'freedom' of choice. Or the lack of jobs, opportunities and typical 'better future'.


Down here, the quality of life eroded quickly during the last sixty years. Some keep complaining and speculating about the over 300,000 who said the hell with this, and migrated in the last decade.


I do not. I hope at least 2 million decide likewise and get the hell out of here. That means a million cars would be off the roads, less noise, crowds and traffic jams.


The other constant whining is that most of the 300, 000 are college graduates.  Who cares if they are fully illiterate or Rhode scholars? There are no jobs or any lottery like 'better future'.

It is time to go.  My perception indicates that the population growth has reached chaotic levels.  The examples above are clear.  No economy anywhere will be able to absorb, provide for so many being borne, so many reaching the third age. 

The time has come for ZERO population growth. Some will stick to their ideological trenches...the problem according to them is that wealth is not distributed fairly.  


In that case, just think of the reluctance from the ONE% in USA, to increase the amount of money employers should pay the state to provide social security benefits.


Start praying if you are among those bible freaks, living this life, thinking of the after one, unwilling to die...as Peter Tosh wisely mentioned in one of his tunes.



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