A couple of observations

1. I was listening to NPR. There was a segment about the recent efforts of including more players from the Negro Leagues that may have been overlooked during the first half of the 20th century. First, I wondered, is it okay to say Negro? Secondly, I laughed out loud at Monte Irvin. He's the only currently living hall of famer from the Negro Leagues and he presently does voluntary tours at Cooper's Town Hall of Fame. As NPR broadcasts Irvin conducting his tour, he says, as I imagine him feebly pointing his 94 year old finger at a picture on a wall, "And that was Cool Papa Bell (slight pause as he probably licks his lips)...He was cool." Then, he heartily laughs at his own joke and I wish I could be there during that tour to laugh with him. Irvin is a comic genius.

2. I met a club guy. You know the type - they are regular club-goers and they come equipped with gelled hair, cheesy pick up lines, and condoms. The club guy I met is Peruvian, so add to him the 'Rico Suave' effect. I hesitated writing about this because it meant that I would have to admit that I was at a club. But, I digress, the Peruvian is sweet eye candy with slim to no intelligence and a heck of a kisser. He throws out a couple of lines about beauty and eternal love, of which I laugh at. I mean: I was laughing hysterically and even had to step aside to catch my breath. He looks at me with a hurt, perplexed look on his face. He actually uses those lines on girls that probably take off their panties right then and there for him. And, for me to laugh at him must have been a blow to his ego. This is his trade - lovin' the ladies. So, for me to ridicule his talent was like a doctor losing a patient or a trial lawyer losing a career-building-slam-dunk case.

3. I read a book - a great book. Memorias de Mis Putas Tristes - Gael Garcia Marquez - seriously - I love this book. I read it with my dad. Kind of like a father reads bedtime stories to their little kids, except I was doing the reading and we were both drunk. I can't vouch for the English version - but, in Spanish it is the most beautifully and poetically written novel having to do with a love affair involving a prostitute. Read it. Now...right now. I'll lend you the book, if you want it. So, like I said previously, the general gist is that of an old, old 90-year old man and his affair with a teen virgin prostitute (sans sex). Folded nicely in the crevices of that love story are poignant observations of self-awareness, brilliant ridicule of our society, and a defiance of life and our silly preconceived norms. It's not a sappy romance novel - don't get the wrong impression. But, it deals with the themes of lives lived and loves lost from the point of view of the wisest, wrinklest old man. (I know wrinklest isn't a word)!