Archive for June, 2011

Cenotes Day II

Cenotes : I may have found my new religion…

The water so clear and deep and you can dive in without a splash, and swim swim swim through all the cracks and crevices, get carried drifting into the caverns, waving to all the little fish and turtles.

If you could fit an entire summer into one afternoon…

Water so clean it purifies.





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I’m told a cenote is a deep water hole.

If you would’ve asked me, it would’ve translated to, loosely: “All you need for a summer afternoon. Bring your own cerveza.”

I swear, one of those dives felt like forever.

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Years back, my father had the life philosophy that he was young and poor so he might as well do whatever he wants.

Now, my father has the philosophy that he’s old and rich so he might as well do whatever he wants.

Either way, I think he’s got it right.



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Rita starts smoking on the Trasher tour. Elie gives her a pack of Marlboro Lights and she thinks he’d be impressed if she empties it that first night. After coughing and laughing and smiling just because eye contact is made, Elie still seems disinterested.

The first therapist Rita sees is in college, the free one at health services. During the first appointment, Dr. Picard asks Rita if it’s alright if she has a cigarette while they talk. When Rita asks if she has any relation to the Captain, the doctor lights up a second.

Elie gets upset with Rita for what he calls trying to please too hard and he’ll say it over and again. Baby, why are you trying to please too hard again? She’ll apologize and go out for a cigarette.

One night, when Elie gets home late from a gig, Rita is there with dinner ready. She stayed home that night after too much office gossip and celebrity stories from coworkers and two cigarettes into the evening at home, regretted not being there to support. Elie comes home to fish and two vegetables, which is his go to when he’s trying to get his life back in order. Elie gets upset, uses the bathroom, staring at himself too long in the mirror and yells at Rita saying again, this is her working to please too hard. Then he leaves. Rita wonders if she’d be asking too much if she could just try too hard to please. Just once, switch the damn word order, say it right. She decides that yes, she’d be asking too much.

Elie sent Rita to Dr. Picard because he decided she needed help. Her anxiety gets unbearable when Elie starts asking her who she is attracted to and getting mad no matter the answer. If she said no one, Elie would say that she shouldn’t just say what she thought he wanted to hear, that she was trying to please too hard and she should just tell him. If she said Luis, or even Johnny Depp, Elie would get distant and cold and bring it up any chance he wanted to make a situation awkward.

Rita gets told by strangers she has to speak up. Every time at a restaurants, she has to say her order three times, too quiet for the waitresses to hear.

Rita tells Dr. Picard about Elie and Dr. Picard says she wants to meet him. Elie agrees and during the appointment, they all have cigarettes together. Elie tells Rita she should hold her cigarette the right way. Dr. Picard makes a comment about how Elie makes Rita second guess herself, that his aggressiveness makes her nervous. After the appointment, Elie says to stop seeing Dr. Picard because “she’s just not working out.” Rita complies.

Elie’s mother is leaving the agency to start a private practice. Elie decides that he and Rita should go see his mother together for couple’s counseling. Rita complies. When they get to the office, Elie lets them in with his key and helps himself to a Diet Pepsi in the office fridge. During the session, Rita sits there and listens as Elie and his mother talk about her issues communicating and how she needs to learn to express herself. Rita can’t bring herself to tell his mother about how her son told her to stop seeing her friends or how he sometimes doesn’t come home after a show and the next morning smells like someone else. She just sits there.

That night, Elie asks Rita to rub his back. He’s sitting at the kitchen table they got from Rita’s parent’s garage and he complains about the wobbly leg as he thumbs at an empty box of Marlboros. She continues to massage his shoulders. He asks her if she liked the session. She says yes, that it was helpful. They’re right. She should work on finding her voice. He taps her hands and says, “Good. You did well today.” He goes upstairs and gets undressed.

She stays and sits on the uneven kitchen table, rocking it back and forth wondering how long the ride will last before it all comes crashing beneath her.

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Two Limes In.

Richard is trying to figure out the profound meaning of having the ocean closer to his bed than the bathroom. He’s taking it deep talking about “the soul of man’s desire” and I think that phrase only came out because he’s gone through two limes now on Coronas alone.

“We want conveniences,” he tells me, slapping a mosquito, “just a carefully packaged substitute for what’s real. Modern amenities are such bullshit.” With that, I make it a point to accept any argument that ends with fill-in-the-blank is such bullshit. Well argued, Richard.

He goes on talking “back to nature” and “back to ourselves.” I feel my bare feet on the wind-battered wood looking down to see the sand still wedged between my toes. My skin feels like raw hide and I don’t remember the last time I saw a mirror. Richard sees me looking off and says, “I mean, you get it man, right?” Slap.

I give him a “yeah yeah” or maybe a “the simple life” and I think I threw in a half-mumbled “but Richard, amenities don’t kill people, people kill people.”

We’re sitting at Mateo’s bar and Mateo is flicking wine glasses dry next to the tiki torches. He’s wearing plastic shoes and still has his sunglasses resting atop his head despite the fact it’s nearing one in the morning.

I start ripping the label off my Tecate and Richard sees I’m more in the stars above the roofless bar and less with him. “Hey Mateo,” Richard says. “Whaddya think? Are we digging our souls an early grave?”

“Interesting,” Mateo says, “that given the choice between finding truth and talking about finding truth, most of us prefer the conversation.”

I balled up the Tecate label and wished the long walk home was just a little bit longer.

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Okay. She’s in the Fam now.

Shannon, newly engaged, being told of the greatness of Charles Martel compared with Victoria Beckham.

Battle of Tours (year 732) vs. Spice Girls Reunion Tour (circa 2008)?



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an insurance question.


Spending nights watching lit up road sings

the light sputtering on and off

you sleeping in the passenger seat

my eyes glossed

your head against the window

my hand flopped over the steering wheel

knowing that somewhere a bed is waiting for us

and at times, you’ll awake for a smile, or a kiss

on my shoulder, and then back to the window.


i watch the yellow line on the side of the road as

the cars pass.

i remember being told to not look directly into the light

as you’ll follow it and i wonder

how love is any different.


we avert our gaze just enough to stay in the boundaries

avoid the collision, god forbid

and the road continues, our trip doesn’t end with a

halting stop. important to stay the course.


but how often do you get the urge to just follow that light

let the wheel turn


if only inches


i think that’s going to be how little it takes.


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