The Humbling

Posted on January 14, 2006 by clubfredbaja

Hello again from the last frontier!

 

A quick note to any new readers: Welcome! I’m sure glad you’ve found the Coconut Chronicles and hope you enjoy my ramblings enough to come back again. I post a new Chronicle once per week, I try for Sunday or Monday but, being a traveler, that is not always possible. This week I am posting early as I will be competing in a tennis tournament tomorrow and what with the victory celebration they’ll be throwing for me and all I’m sure I won’t have time to write! (The preceding was a joke, the victory celebration part, that is.) Anyway, welcome again, now back to my regularly scheduled Chronicle already in progress…

 

Those of you expecting the usual barrage of tales of our Baja adventures may be sadly disappointed this year. The purpose, ostensibly, of this little jaunt down to Mexico is for me to complete my novel in an environment that offers enough stimulation to keep the Prez out of my hair while I do so. Yes, this is a working vacation. But please, put down your Kleenex and dry your tears, I am still finding enough time to enjoy myself and get out of the writing cave to expose my pigmentaly challenged skin to that shiny orb in the sky. However, just because I’m not doing anything interesting doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say! (Cue the groan from the audience)

 

While taking a shower (if you’re underage, please close your eyes during this part) in a stream of water that was slightly more than a trickle but definitely less than a spray, I considered one of the reasons I like coming to Posada – it’s humbling. And oh boy don’t we all in North America need a good humbling from time to time. For those of you who have never been here before (the rest of you can go fetch a snack during this part), let me tell you a little bit about where I am.

 

About 900 km (that’s 650 miles if you don’t know the metric system, yes using units of ten is a difficult concept, I know) down the Baja California Peninsula, on the Sea of Cortez side, is a large, sheltered bay called Bahia de Concepcion “The Bay of Conception”. No, this is not where young couples come to try and have a baby (although I’m sure lots of that goes on); this conception refers to our finny little friends – the fish. This bay is where adult fish come to lay their eggs in safe, nutrient rich water. It is also a type of nursery for juvenile fish who can grow up relatively protected, until their parents tell them to get their lazy asses off their Sargasso beds and go find a job out in the big world. It is a magical place, the bay, and is dotted with many beaches and circled by mountains on all sides.

 

One of these beaches, Posada Concepcion, was owned by a Mexican named Herman Morantes Sr. (He was dead before my arrival but reports of his character vary from ‘astute business man’ to ‘filthy pervert’). Herman Senior started a trailer park for gringos providing water, electricity and a sewage system all on the waterfront splendor of the Bahia de Concepcion. “If you build it, the gringos will come!” Yes the gringos came and they loved it, so they stayed. They built shelters around their travel trailers which now would remain permanently moored on the sand. This would eliminate ten percent of the absolute terror that must have existed on the drive down Hwy Mex 1 at that time.*Even in the seven plus years I’ve been coming down here the hwy has undergone huge improvements. My hair actually used to be black but changed to stark white after the first year we drove down here in a truck and camper towing a 25ft boat. These trailer shelters are known as Palapas and are made of dried palm leaves and wood from the Cardon cactus. A palapa provides excellent shade during the hot months while still allowing good air flow, during the winter it functions as shelter from the wind…they are also highly flammable.

 

A few years and few fires later, the snowbird crowd decided, heck, we spend most of our year here, why don’t we build some real homes? And so they did. The lack of building codes and inspections made possible a community that was a true reflection of the character of each individual – it also created a wiring and plumbing system that would have North American developers running for the hills, or for a lawyer, whichever came first. You see, the park electricity is provided by a diesel generator (10am to 10pm, I dare you to try and stay up past 10pm after one week here!) and was designed, after all, for trailers not homes with dishwashers and dryers and microwaves and computers…oops, shooting myself in the foot here. Water for the park is delivered by truck and stored in a large pila up on the hill. Remember, despite the fact that we are on a bay, we are still very much in the desert. Water consumption is meant to err on the side of conservation; some folks are good about this, others not so much.

 

The nearest town, Mulege (pronounced Moo-leh-hay), is about a thirty minute drive away and don’t be looking for any Wal Marts when you get there. And although the local stores bring in more and more goods every year, selection is still limited and quality is often questionable (I found that the Mexican “W-Tips” did not work quite as well as Q-Tips, I haven’t tried the “WD-50” or the “Nelsens Hot Chocolate” yet but I have my doubts about them as well). Until a few years ago, communication with the outside world was limited to the one fax machine in town or the very expensive payphones. Praise be to Internet!!

 

Our particular casa, cleverly named “The 30th Palm”, belongs to Miz Liz of 29 Palms (get it?) who has been generous enough to let us bums hang out here for a few months. The 30th Palm is one of the few original palapa dwellings left in the park. It has been around for over twenty years and was featured in “Trailer Life Magazine” shortly after its construction. The vaulted ceiling (doesn’t that sound fancy?) is made of palm leaves laid over wooden beams. The perimeter is supported by rock walls of different heights with the upper bits comprised of wooden beams and patati flaps (some which open and function as windows). Dividing walls for rooms are all palm and wood. The floor is cement covered entirely by a carpet of intricately woven squares made from palm leaves! We know the location of every fire extinguisher on the premises. There is a work room, a large master bedroom (with a small kitchen in the back), a bathroom, a smaller guest bedroom, living room and kitchen. Plenty of room for Prez and me plus one tubby, grumpy cat.

 

Now we get to the “humble” part…kind of…well, very soon…

 

Baja is not for everyone, but I think everyone should come to Baja at least once (not all at once though, it simply isn’t big enough). If nothing else, you will go home knowing that you’ve actually got it very, very good up north. And when I say “Baja” I don’t mean Tijuana, Ensenada or Cabo, I mean the real Baja – the big chunk in between those cities.

 

Here in Posada you accept certain truths to be self evident, such as the fact that the further you get from the water pila, the less water pressure you’re going to have (please refer to the 1st sentence of the 3rd paragraph). And sometimes the park will run out of water completely which means sponge baths using heated drinking water. If you’re making dinner and suddenly realize, Egads, I’m out of eggs! there is no popping down to the corner store to get some, the best you can do is ask around- so you better be nice to your neighbours! There are no movie theaters, Starbucks, fitness centers, or McDonalds here. No phones either, which means no 911 so you’d better learn to be self reliant and carry a first aid kit. Board of health? Please. You eats the tacos you takes your chances. Oh but they’re good, they’re sooooooo good (the author pauses to wipe trail of drool from her chin). Out here on the last frontier you learn to roll with the punches and appreciate what little luxuries come your way (Hey there’s a pizza place in town now that will actually deliver out here with a big enough order!! You just have to go into town to order it first, hmmmm). And, if you are like me, you start to realize all the things you take for granted back in “Civilization”, things that most people in the world will never have. True, I may not have much water pressure in my shower but I have a shower with real running water. I can have a shower every day (almost) if I want; aren’t I lucky?

 

What we do have is water at our doorstep, aquamarine and turquoise, with pelicans gliding inches above the surface. We have stars, lots and lots of stars. Yes, you can really see the Milky Way! We have a community where everyone knows everyone; people look out for one another and do things together. We have miles of desert and mountains to explore without signs warning “No Dogs! No Fires! No Fun!” We have oranges picked ripe from the tree and fish caught fresh from the sea. We have friends and love and laughter. The Prez would probably like to add that we have fireworks, really, really BIG fireworks!

 

And we have humility. 

 

Until next week, I hope this finds you happy, healthy and lovin’ life!

The Princess

 

P.S. – I’d like to ask everyone to send out lots of good healing energy to our friend Anna Banana who’s had a really rough bout of the flu/pneumonia for well over three weeks! Get well Banana!!!

Posted in Travel | 3 Comments

Baja Love

Posted on January 8, 2006 by clubfredbaja

“Baja Love”. You may have heard the Prez and I utter this phrase more than once before. It got me to wonderin’, what does it mean? Is it the desert, the sea, the people, the birds, the fish, the tacos (hmm, that could be it) or a combination of all the real and intangible things that draw us back to this little piece of sand year after year?

 

And the more I thunk on it, the more I started to wonder about love in general; what an odd and indefinable thing it is. I love Baja and I love British Columbia but the feelings I have for each of those places is completely different. Yes I would probably rather be in the sun, OK I’d definitely rather be in the sun and dry than the cold and wet but I don’t love one place more than the other.

 

From there my thoughts drifted to my love for the Prez. I’d say, on the scale of love from Pitiful (think Anna Nicole Smith and the rich geezer she leeched onto) to Perfect (existing only in movies) we rank pretty high up there. Why? What is it that we have now that was lacking in our previous relationships?

 

Back in another desert, chatting with the wise and all-knowing Miz Liz, we discussed the idea that once you find real, true love, love of the best friend/soul mate variety, you wonder why anyone would settle for anything less. But until you experience it, well, you can’t possibly know what it is…so it’s kind of a conundrum.  Still with me here? We spoke of people in our lives who were in relationships that were either horribly one-sided or lacking in genuine affection altogether. How sad that is, and yet, I’ve been there. I reckon most folks have. (I’m feeling a little country-ish today, by the way). With each new ‘love’ I thought I had it all figured out. And when that ‘love’ went sideways or dried up completely, well I would just find someone else eventually and move on. It took me a good while to figure out what the problem was…me.

 

The bottom line is: I was looking for a man to make me happy but the only person who could make me happy was me. The root of all problems in relationships is unhappiness – sometimes only one person is unhappy and sometimes both. Now I don’t mean unhappy like the feeling you get when the store is out of the 80% cocoa Swiss dark chocolate that you love (can you feel the pain?), no, I’m referring to the empty, unsatisfied feeling that lingers deep in your soul.

 

The irony is, you might meet the man or woman of your dreams, but if your timing is wrong, if you’re not at a point where you are happy with yourself then it doesn’t matter. Prez and I recognized years ago that had we met even a couple years earlier it’s very likely things would not have worked out for us. But things have worked out. Why? I mean it isn’t like we haven’t had our moments when wringing the other person’s neck seemed like a worthwhile idea. What went right?

 

For starters, when we met, we were both over the age of twenty-five. It is rare (I’ve seen it happen, but not often) that two people know enough about life, the universe, and themselves to make a good decision about a life-long partner before the age of twenty-five. Just my opinion but I’ve asked around and lots of folks agree with me…so it’s practically fact, or at least it would be on CNN.

The next factor is critical – we had stuff in common. Now you don’t have to have everything in common but one or two things is a big help. In our case, we loved being on, in, around,  under and near the water, we loved fishing (even though I am much better at it), we had the same job, we loved to travel, didn’t want kids, didn’t believe in any religion, and lastly, and most importantly, had a profound (almost spiritual) love of cats.

 

Conversely – we had our own lives. Fred plays squash, I don’t; I think it’s a frantic game that requires way too much effort for very little fun (aka, I suck at it). I run, Fred doesn’t; he thinks it’s boring (aka, he sucks at it). I would never dream of stopping him from playing squash and he would only dream of asking me to stop running if he wanted a little nookie and even then it would be a temporary stoppage. It’s nice to spend time together and do things together but time alone, time doing “your” thing is important, it gives you things to talk about and a feeling of independence.

 

Honesty (ouch). OK, by this I mean, laying things on the line right at the start. I know people who get into relationships where one person wants kids and the other doesn’t, each one hoping that the other will change their mind. Sometimes one person does change their mind and it all works out but when they don’t? Ten years into a marriage, how terrible would it feel to suddenly realize you partner has no interest in raising a house full of ankle-biters when you want nothing more than the sound of little footsteps around you? Right from the get go Prez and I spelled out for each other what we did and did not want in our relationship.

 

The “X” factor – attraction, physical and otherwise. Don’t underestimate this one. If you aren’t sexually and romantically attracted to your mate, time is not going to change that. The fire may burn down to an ember but it can always be re-lit. If there was no heat to begin with, things will get cold real fast. 

 

And that’s just the beginning ladies and gentlemen. Once you actually manage to find real, true love the work has just begun. Love is a constantly evolving entity. Don’t think that, just because things are good, you can coast along love’s highway on cruise control. As my karate sensei told me – “If you don’t do your homework, another student moves to the head of the class”! Women, this means making your man feel like he’s still a tiger in the sack, men this means wooing (and chocolate) lots and lots of wooing (and neck rubs), the wooing never ends (and showering her cat with affection), don’t ever slack in the wooing department.

 

There are a few couples I know who fall into the “true love” category – those whose relationships are not only fabulous but have stood the test of time. Miz Liz and Big Wave Dave were, of course, a primo example of this. Martha and Pat, despite the fact that they like to refer to themselves as the ‘bickering Bickersons’, rank right up there. Ruth-Ann and HQ, Dan and Anne, and I’m going to put Deb and Ron Mac in too because even if they haven’t crossed the twenty year line yet they have a love that is truly inspirational.

 

And may I make one final recommendation? Come to Baja. Rise to a desert sunrise and the calls of the seabirds. Take a boat or kayak out on the Sea of Cortez and stare into the eyes of a dolphin while Frigates perform acrobatic feats above you. Stand beside a Cardon cactus stretching fifty feet in the air and smell its cinnamon and sugar blossoms. Share a roadside fish taco, talk to the locals even if you don’t speak Spanish, drink margaritas at Los Equipales and dance cheek to cheek. Buy a tacky t-shirt. Drive to the beach, lie on a blanket; see the falling stars that trail forever against the sky. Leave behind all the “things” that really don’t matter. Fall in love all over again. That’s Baja Love baby!

 

P.S. – Hey, much to my surprise and great pleasure, I have been featured on the “Best of MSN Spaces” this week. Wow! If you click on the link (look for the little blue ribbon at the top of the page) you will see me listed on the top right side. Who’d of thought? And me without a formal gown and acceptance speech.

 

Also, I’ve added a couple new photo albums – one from Baja 2004 and one from our drive down here – check them out if you have a mo’ to kill.

 

Posted in Love | 10 Comments

“Should Old Acquaintance be Forgot”

Posted on December 31, 2005 by clubfredbaja
Hello from the end of the year.
 
The new year is upon us, time to take stock of the past and prepare for the future. How will I remember this year? A year of uncertainty? A year of adventure? Only time will tell but I know when I think of 2005, as always, it will be the people I love who will stand out most.
 
I have been negligent. Usually I make a point of expressing my gratitude for folks who have helped us or have shared something special with us, but this year I overlooked some very, very important people and I am feeling pretty down about it.
 
Pat and Joyce Roney started as our next door neighbours but quickly became two of our very best friends.
 
Over the years they have gone above and way beyond the call of duty when it came to doing favours for us. When we had our beach house, the original ClubFred, in Baja and would disappear for months at a time, they would take in our mail, deposit our cheques, pay our bills and respond to any number of minor emergencies on our behalf. There are very few people in this world you can depend on to that extreme.
 
You can count on the Roneys for just about anything – especially for livening up a party!
 
When we decided that Ukee (rain) was not going to work for us, and needed a place to hang our hat (and all of our other many possessions) while we waited for our Cayman job interview, they were quick to offer us a comfy place to stay for as long as we needed. Now, I’ve made jokes, referring to the Prez and I as "the people under the stairs" and maybe you’ve gotten the impression that we lived in some sort of bat cave while we were there…no…not true…it was just a joke folks. Our basement suite included ample room for us, the fat cat, and all our stuff as well as a giant cozy couch, TV, DVD, VCR and blazing fireplace. We had our own bathroom and we were welcome in any part of the house at any time. We had a pretty sweet deal my friends. I would reccomend Casa Roney to anyone, anytime.
 
The really great part, actually quite rare, miraculous even, was that we all got along, really, really well the whole time. It was what you always imagined having roomates would be like until you moved out and actually realized how many wackos there are out there. But seriously, cohabitating, even with your closest and dearest friends, can be a complete disaster. There are people I love that I can’t imagine spending twenty-four consecutive hours with in a small space, never mind two months! The fact that the four of us (technically five but 18 year old Roney is rarely home as you can imagine) lived together, ate together, and hung out together for so long happily, without wanting to wring one another’s necks is a real feat.
 
To cap off our stay, these crazy cats took us out for a farewell dinner at Milestones (yum) where I sampled the "Bikini Martini" as part of my martini quality control program that I have started for restaurants all over the globe (they don’t pay me and actually don’t even want my advice but I have big dreams). So far, the Roneys have been present at every one of our many farewell parties (I notice the turn out gets a little smaller every time – I guess you can only say farewell so many times before it gets old).
 
Vegas may not have been so kind to us but who cares? We already hit the jackpot when we met the Roneys.
 
This is a Chronicle I should have written a long time ago. I have no excuse except, perhaps, that I am a big, fat, dumb head who doesn’t deserve such incredible friends – ya that sounds about right.
 
And there are lots of other people I’m sure I’ve overlooked in the thanks and gratitude department. CB springs immeadiately to mind. Wow, there’s no way we could be down here doing what we’re doing (what exactly are we doing again?) without CB back home taking care of the paperwork and other crap. Here he is, in the cold and sleet, nursing his sick wife, doing all our banking and mail stuff while we are just cavorting on the beach like a couple of thoughtless kids – we are not worthy. Seriously, we must owe CB about a 256,777.009 favours in return for all that he has done for us over the years. Thanks buddy!!!
 
And there are more, many more but I’m supposed to be working on my novel like a real writer right now so I’m going to wrap this up with a general thank you to all our friends and family who have helped us out so much, in so many ways, over the years. If you haven’t seen your name here, believe me, it is not because we have forgotten you but simply because the authour has a head full of junk that is constantly spilling out.
 
To everyone – I wish you a new year filled with joy and love. May you find the courage to do whatever it is you are afraid of, the patience to deal with life’s challenges, and the compassion to give to those who need more than you do. Tonight we will raise a glass to all of you who stay in our hearts no matter where we travel.
 
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!
The Princess
 
 
 
 
 
 
Posted in Friends | 8 Comments

Tales from the Road – “The Desert to the Sea and All Points Inbetween”

Posted on December 27, 2005 by clubfredbaja

Hello again from the road!

 

Pour yourself your favorite bevvie and relax because this is
going to be a long one folks. First off, Merry Xmas to all. Sorry I wasn’t able
to call or email but we were on the road in Baja most of the 24th
& 25th and didn’t see one single internet café. I hope everyone
had fun, Santa was good to you, and you didn’t eat too, too much turkey.
ClubFred celebrated the holiday on a quiet beach on Bahia
de Los Angeles in Baja,
Mexico. But more on that
later; let’s back up a little first…

 

Our visit to the Benedetti’s seemed to coincide with a
series of small disasters, including a flat tire in the mud and ending with the
shut down of the water system to the house – they were probably breathing a
sigh a relief as we pulled out of the driveway on our way to Twenty-Nine Palms.
So unwashed, yet happy, we trekked across the desert to visit the one and only
Miz Liz.

 

It may have been that we had the best tour guide in town but
29 Palms is a little desert gem and well worth the trip. The desert may seem
like a bunch of nothing at first glance but look closely and you’ll see an
abundance of life. Liz’s family goes back to the beginnings of this city and
has played an important role in its growth and development. We saw photos from
a time when 29 Palms was little more than a handful of wooden buildings in the
middle of nowhere; today there is a thriving community.

 

The Prez and I have been having a blast playing “tourist” on
this trip, breaking out our camera every five minutes or so. Liz kept that
camera busy as she showed us all the beautiful murals painted throughout the
town. Drawing inspiration from the murals of Chemainous,
BC, the murals of 29 Palms depict much of
the town’s history as well as its natural wonders. Perhaps the funniest moment
was when we came upon a mural in progress; the artist was in the first stages
of painting (the outlining phase) and was obviously pretty pooped. When we
pulled up he was sound asleep on his scaffold (wait, it gets better!) and a
huge bull was sauntering by right underneath him! Too wild, we snapped off some
great shots which I’ll attach.

 

As for the natural wonders, 29 Palms is a gateway to Joshua
Tree National Park, a haven for rock climbers, hikers and lovers of nature.
Those who’ve driven down the Baja peninsula will understand what I mean when I
say that the park is very similar to Catavina but for those of you who haven’t
picture gianormous rocks stacked up like Bedrock
City and Dr.Seuss-like trees as far
as the eye can see. Liz drove us up to an incredible viewpoint where we looked
out over Palm Springs, the San Andreas fault and the Salton Sea – she says on a
good day you can see all the way to Baja (hey, Liz, we’re waving right now, can
you see us? Hello!).

 

I could go on and on about how much we loved 29 Palms, the
lovely and historic Roughly Manor, the desert glass that turns purple in the
sun, etc., but the real reason, the most important reason we traveled out to
the middle of the desert was to see our friend Liz. Many of you know her
already, those who do not would love her, I’m certain of that. It has been less
than a year since she lost her beloved husband (and our very great friend)
Dave. I can’t imagine how painful these last nine months have been for her
(thankfully she has two very troublemaking dogs, which require constant
attention, to keep her busy!) As much as we loved the sightseeing, we would
have traveled twice as far just to finally give her a hug and tell her how very
sorry we are. Even though it was our first visit, I expected to feel a sense of
emptiness without Dave there but, oddly, I felt very much like Dave was there – especially while watching a
stunning desert sunrise with Liz, a display of colours and light that puts any
painting to shame. Liz – thank you and we love you.

 

From there the trip takes another crazy turn. The Prez
decided he wanted to try his hand at a real Vegas Texas Hold ‘Em Poker
tournament, so we pointed the wagon north and headed across the Mojave
Desert to the city of sin. Prez wins the find of the trip thus far
for spotting (I have no idea how he did it) a tarantula crossing the highway.
Luckily the highway is pretty darn quiet and so we were able to U-turn and go
back for photos (yes, the camera is always ready).

 

Let me just pause to state that Las Vegas
is not a pet friendly city. Honestly, my cat makes less of a mess than most
children I know! Thank you Super 8 Motel.

 

We hit the strip for a Texas Hold ‘Em Junket armed with a
schedule of tournaments at various casinos. First up was the Mandalay
Bay; Prez made it to the final
table! Next, Circus Circus (ugh I hate that casino) which had a crappy game but
I scored several stuffed animals on the midway so it was worth it. Final
tourney for the evening was at the oh-so-smokey Sahara.
Here the Prez suggested that maybe I should enter instead of just hanging
around waiting for him, and so I did, a little nervously, making it almost to
the final table! Early the next morning we headed to the Flamingo where yours
truly out-played, out-witted and outlasted twenty-seven other players for third
place and $280.00 cash!! I’d like to tell you it got better from there but it
really didn’t and we decided to hit the highway the next day…after one or two
last tournaments.

 

December 23rd was spent in a fog – literally. The California
coast was socked in with fog and our night camping in the Carlsbad
State Park was warm but damp.

 

Xmas eve morning we rose early and made a run for the
border. Our crossing was easy. No, let me say that again…our crossing was easy.
Our crossing has never, ever, ever been easy. It was almost creepy. It is nice
to see that Tijuana is still just
as quaint and charming as ever (uh huh). The Prez struck gold in El Rosario,
the type of gold that has a fuse and explodes. He was grinning so wide at the
sight of all those fireworks that I thought his lower jaw was going to break
off (yes, Prez, there really is a
Santa Claus!). We have one particular piece of explosive that is so huge I plan
to be at least a mile away when it is set off.

 

Our original plan was to camp out along the Pacific coast
but the fog was so thick everywhere we looked, we decided to head inland to the
winery area of Santo Tomas. There is a really cute little RV park called El
Palomar that we have always wanted to stop at…and so we did…and had the entire
place to ourselves! Nestled in an olive grove, we spent a cozy Xmas Eve beside
a mesquite fire eating tuna and bean tacos.

 

Merry Christmas and Feliz Navidad! Who knew that Xmas day is
the absolute best day to drive through Baja? Everyone is sleeping off the
previous evening’s fiesta (believe me, we heard the locals fiesta-ing until
four or five am!) and so Mex 1 is quiet, quiet, quiet. After some discussion,
we decided to shoot for Bahia de Los
Angeles on the Sea
of Cortez side. The road has
recently been paved and so, as long as we had enough gas, it looked doable.
Gas. Gas is always a factor in Baja where stations are known to just shut down
leaving you staring desperately at your gas gauge, willing it to stay above E
until your reach the next station. We passed several functioning Pemex’s but
decided to wait and fill in Catavina as it would be the last station before the
Bay of L.A.
turn off. Of course the Catavina station was closed – thank goodness for
roadside petrol entrepreneurs! (Turns out the Bay
of L.A. has a functioning station
now, but that could

 have easily been
closed too).

 

Well folks, we couldn’t have picked a more beautiful spot to
spend Xmas. The Bay is surrounded by islands, the weather has been hot and
calm, and Emily is thrilled to be back in the world’s largest litter pan.

 

I should take a quick moment to say that Emily was
definitely the happiest of all of us as she has been confined to guest rooms,
motel rooms and the truck since we left. She spent the evening hunting mice and
found a cave to hide in all day. She is a very Mexican cat.

 

Today is Boxing Day and we did all the traditional Boxing
Day things – fishing, digging for clams, eating chips and salsa while drinking
Dos XXX beer. Prez found a beached squid of all things today and he rescued it.
Then we looked down the beach and saw several dead squid, but you know, the way
I see it is, if we can save just one
squid then it’s all worth it (?!). Tomorrow we are making the final leg of the
journey to Posada, Mulege, and dinner at Mom’s (oh, by the way Ruth-Ann, we’ll
be there for dinner tomorrow, although, technically, it is “today” as I will be
sending this tomorrow which will then be today). Anyway, if your bum is half as
sore as mine right now then you’re probably hoping I’ll wrap up pretty darn
soon…and so I will.

 

Happy Holidays everyone and until next week, and next year,
I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life!

The Princess

 

Posted in Travel | 5 Comments

Tales from the Road – “What the World Needs Now”

Posted on December 18, 2005 by clubfredbaja
Hello from the rolling hills and pastoral beauty of Petaluma, California!

Oh what joy to be on the move again! I didn’t realize how itchy my feet had become until we started chewing up the highway. For those who don’t know, the Cayman job was a no go, so here we go…to Baja, Mexico that is.

The Plan: A long, meandering drive during which we would stop and enjoy every bit of scenery we’ve always wanted to but couldn’t while towing a boat/jetskis/etc. as well as stops to visit friends enroute.

Final Destination: Posada Concepcion, near Mulege, in Baja California Sur, Mexico (also known as paradise).

Stop #1: The Benedetti Estate in Petaluma, California.

So here I am, typing away and glancing out the window at gently rolling, green hills dotted with farms and oak trees. In the living room there is a blazing fire and a large cozy couch calling my name. Our first stop is a long-overdue visit with Fred’s step-sister Anne, husband Dan and their many kids & grandkids. But more about that later.

The drive here was punctuated with, "ooh"s, "aah"s and "wow!"s. From the towering redwood trees to the heart-stopping cliff views of the Pacific Ocean, every mile was a sensory buffet. I felt a little sorry, however, for the poor folks stuck driving behind those ‘damn Canadians’ who were slowing to take a picture every five minutes. I can just hear the conversation, "Geez, don’t they have the ocean in that country??!" And, of course, there were the little eccentricities that make road travel so rewarding – like the Bigfoot museum, the gallery of wood "burl" art, and the giant Paul Bunyan & Babe the blue ox.

Every year we have traveled to Baja we have taken boring old I-5 but this time we turned off at Grant’s Pass in Oregon and crossed over to the coastal highway. Now, I know our map isn’t very detailed but really there should be some sort of a warning, such as, "This highway is treacherously steep, perilously narrow and dangerously curvy…it’s best, for everyone’s sanity, if you do not let your wife do the driving on this part, especially when it is dark". Yes, it would have been nice to have that little warning. Thank goodness we decided to call it a day in Ft.Bragg and leave all of Hwy 1 – the worst nail-biting section of all – to the Prez in the daylight!

We’ve already racked up about 50 Road Karma points. You can never have too much RK. As we’re heading downhill on the aforementioned steep, winding road at night, we see a sketchy looking van on the side of the road, with three even sketchier looking people waving us down for help. I rolled down my window just a smidge and a boozy, hillbilly voice asked us if we had any jumper cables. We did not. Let me be crystal clear here folks, at this point, yours truly would have been very happy to simply drive away but the Prez, no doubt intrigued by the challenge, told me to pull over and he’d see if he could help them. Reluctantly I pulled onto the tiny shoulder and watched vigilantly as the Prez, jumbo flashlight/club in hand, went to check everything out. Next thing I knew we were in full Macgyver mode, with our truck butted against their dilapidated van and Prez improvising jumper cables out of stereo wires and chewing gum. Our three drunken friends watched in utter amazement as Fast Freddy’s fingers flew, "Hey, are yew some kinda electrical injuneer or somethin?" When that van fired to life, I thought they were going to pounce on my husband and start kissing him. Luckily the only smooching was from me – he really still is my hero you know.

Now this brings me to this week’s topic and our current hosts.

Let me ask you something, would you have stopped, in the pitch black, in the middle of nowhere, for a group of people that looked like they might have been extras in the movie "Deliverance"? I wouldn’t have. Most people wouldn’t have. And that’s a little sad to me because they weren’t bad people (as far as we know), just maybe not as educated or well-off as most of us. Maybe life hasn’t been kind to them but that’s no reason why the rest of us shouldn’t be.

And what does this have to do with our hosts? Well, part of what I look forward to when we come to visit here, is the overwhelming spirit of love, kindness and generosity that the Benedetti family (and all of their friends too, it would seem) possess. The first time I met Dan & Anne and their kids Marcus, Joanie and Niesha, I was struck by how instantly welcome I felt. Not just welcome, but welcome on a mere three hours notice, on Easter Sunday, during a family function, sticky and grungy from the road.

When I think of the "All American Family", I think of the Benedettis. They are not perfect, of course, no family is, but they are as close to it as I’ve ever witnessed. "I love you" is not just a casual sentiment tossed around out of habit between family members here, no, it is a heartfelt declaration and a reminder of how grateful and happy they are to have one another and all their loved ones. And it is within this circle of happiness that it becomes painfully obvious how lacking in love the world really is.

When is the last time you took a genuine moment out of your day to look your spouse, child or parent in the eye and tell them, sincerely, how much you love them, how thankful you are for having them in your life? It may seem like a small thing. You may think that it isn’t necessary, that they know how you feel. But let’s be honest, who doesn’t like to hear that they are loved? And the funny thing about love is that it’s kind of like a virus, it spreads.

We have had such a wonderful time visiting and enjoying the Benedettis company – and the wine glasses that never seem to empty! Sadly, Anne was knocked out by a nasty stomache flu on the day of our arrival but finally managed to make an appearance. Not to take anything away from Dan, but it is always nice to have the real head of the household around! We have feasted on crab, stuffed sausages and shared stories (often there seems to be two versions of the story, funny about that). Emily was able to spend some quality time with Norman, the black lab, although Norm was a little disappointed that he didn’t get to eat five pounds of her food like the last visit.

We will be pulling out tomorrow and making our way to see "Stunt Woman Supreme", Liz, in Twenty-Nine Palms California. Though, physically, we will be leaving the Benedettis behind, I know we will be carrying their spirit with us which is the best Road Karma of all. I hope that we can learn to always have that spirit and to share a little more love with, not only our friends and family, but, more importantly, with those who literally or figuratively are broken down.

"What the world needs now is love, sweet love,
That’s the only thing that there’s just too little of."

Mil Gracias to the Benedttis and until next week I hope this finds everyone healthy, happy & lovin’ life!
The Princess

Posted in Travel | 3 Comments

What They Don’t Know

Posted on December 11, 2005 by clubfredbaja
Hello again from the land of traffic, line-ups and retail!
 
Our past lives. A subject I have not discussed for some time but one that has come back into focus recently.
 
We were stunt people once. Our lives
were considered glamourous and exciting. Scratch beneath the surface
though, it’s a thin surface, and you will see the business has a very
ugly side.
 
Let me pause here for a moment. We have a few real friends
from our years in the biz and those folks are still in it. I’m certain
that those friends know me well enough to know that what I’m about to
write is not meant to make them look or feel bad in any way. I also
want to add that we are grateful, beyond words, for the time we spent
as stunt perfomers; we had many unique and wonderful experiences as
well as the time, money and freedom to live a charmed life. I only wish
we had a deeper appreciation for it all while we were in it.
 
To enter the film business with
cheerful optimism and naivete, is akin to jumping in a tank full of
tiger sharks with six half-dead tuna strapped to your body. The stunt
department, in particular, is ruthless. That guy at the party, smiling,
slapping you on the back, telling you what a great job you did on
your last show, has already told half the stunt community that you are
a talentless moron, he hates your guts and will never hire you again.
To quote a fellow stunty, "Everyone’s your buddy but no one is your friend".
 
Stunt people like, no love,
to talk about other stunt people. And don’t assume for one minute that
I am an innocent party – I did my fair share of tongue wagging. It’s a
lifestyle, you get sucked in.
 
I shouldn’t have been surprised to
hear that the Prez and I are still a topic of rumours and speculation,
but after a nearly three year absence I thought that we would
have faded to black. But no, the Perron rumour mill is alive and
well; the stories have grown to ridiculous proportions like a kid’s
game of "telephone" run amuck. The main subjects of interest are a) the
manner in which we left b) why we returned and c) what we are going to
do next (hey if anyone has the answer to that one let me know!). No one
would dare pick up the phone and just ask us…what would be the sport
in that?
 
We planned on,
eventually, leaving the business almost from the first day we met.
At first, it was because we both had so many places we wanted to see
and different things we wanted to try. But as time went on, the people
around us becoming more and more consumed with greed and vanity,
leaving became about getting out from the ugliness and saving our
souls. The Prez, with his lack of an internal editor, made the mistake
of being honest, speaking his unhappiness and frustrations aloud in a
business that is as fake as the sets we worked on. And so he became,
and remains, a pariah.
 
At the final meeting with his stunt
"brothers and sisters", the Prez read a speech he’d prepared; the head
of the organization, "The Legend", also read a speech. Describing the
event to me, later that evening, Prez said that he felt very emotional,
close to tears at some points. He was closing an important chapter in
his life; he was excited about his future but saying good-bye is never
easy.
 
Apparently, others at the meeting saw
things differently. Their story had the Prez cast as a cold-hearted
ingrate responding to The Legend’s offer of, "If you ever decide to come back you are welcome back here" with a venomous, "I’m never f-ing coming back!".
Now flash forward a few years and the story has grown, The Prez
now maliciously goes around the room, verbally tearing each member of
the group to shreds before his infamous closing line. I can barely wait
to hear the next version! 
 
Other rumours include: They had to
come back because their boat capsized, they lost everything and
Kristene was freaking out (a grain of truth, we were in a white squall
and we were both a little frightened). Prez is working as a butler
(????). Prez has written a letter to Stunts Canada begging them to take
him back (absurd). Kristene is just following Prez wherever he goes
because she has nothing else in her life (don’t you feel sorry for me
now?). Etc., etc., etc. , etc., etc.
 
Oh there have been bets between
members about when the Prez is going to come crawling back to stunts.
What they don’t know is that he has been offered work on a few
occassions and, with one exception (a day job that an actor specificlly
requested him for), has politely declined; not because we don’t
need the money but simply because he doesn’t want to do that job
anymore. Come to think of it, there are a lot of things they don’t know.
 
What they don’t know is there are
things more important than money or prestige. That it takes courage to
try new things (outside of stunts), to fail, try again, fail again, and
keep on trying until you find what works. They don’t know that we don’t
wish them any ill will, in fact we sincerely hope that they are all
happy and successful. Nor do they know that they are only doing a job;
they are no different than the people who pick up our garbage
or the nurses who tend our ills (though I would argue that those two
professions are imminently more useful to society). They don’t know how
much the prez and I love each other, have always loved each other.
Complaining about only making a grand a day is despicable and cruel
when there are so many people living in such poverty; I’m certain they
don’t know that. And I wonder if they know how every bitter
word and thought they harbour is rotting away their hearts?
 
We’ve all spread rumours and
gossip, intentionally or otherwise. It is a part of human nature
to want to discuss other humans. Discussion is a means by which
we work to understand that which puzzles us. Our leaving the film
business, at the peak of the Prez’s career, and of our own free will,
must drive those who cannot imagine any other life nuts. I should be
angry, I suppose, but most of the time the crazy stories make me laugh
and I pity those who have been left behind with nothing but unanswered
questions.
 
I don’t know that very many of those stunt brothers and sisters ever "got" the Prez, even while he was still around.
 
I’ve been hearing a barrage of rumours
about us lately but that’s nothing new; what prompted me to write about
this topic was a song. Driving to the library the other day, the
station I was listening to played a song in memory of John Lennon’s
death. It gave me shivers because I could clearly hear the Prez
singing those words. The title of the song is "Watching the Wheels"
but, with respect to the formidable talent of John Lennon, today I’m
going to call it…
 
Dear Stunt People
 
People say I’m crazy doing what I’m doing,
Well they give we all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin.
When I say that I’m o.k. they look at me kind of strange,
Surely you’re not happy now you no longer play the game?
 
People say I’m lazy, dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me.
Well, I tell them that I’m doing fine watching shadows on the wall,
Don’t you miss the big time boy, you’re no longer on the ball?
 
I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll.
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go.
 
People asking questions, lost in confusion,
Well, I tell them there’s no problems, only solutions.
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I’ve lost my mind,
I tell them there’s no hurry… I’m just sitting here doing time.
 
I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round,
I really love to watch them roll.
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I just had to let it go.
I just had to let it go.
 
 
 The
wheels will continue to roll. People will continue to talk. The best we
can do is laugh and hope that what they don’t know won’t hurt us.
 
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
Just a little news to finish off:
 
Martha Roney celebrated her 25th birthday on Dec.8th. We had a blast and she doesn’t look a day over 24!
 
Still no word on the
Cayman job but we have sent an ultimatum of sorts and if there is no
decision by Tuesday then we are off to Baja.
 
I have been published!
Well kind of. The Shoreline Writers Society, of which I am a proud
member, has just released it’s 6th annual chapbook and one of my short
stories is in it! I’m very excited. I picked up some copies yesterday,
they look great and the content is fabulous! Poet Sue McIntyre has two
poems in it that brought both Martha and I to the verge of tears.
Anyhoo…
 
If any of you would like
a copy of this book, "My Mother and Other Lies" (which is also the
title of my story), please drop me a line with your snail mail address
and I will cheerfully fire one off to you. And yes, the authour is
available for readings and gala events, LOL!!!

Last but definitely not least, each Christmas the Prez and I choose a
worthy charity, one that has some meaning to us, and make a donation on
behalf of all of our family and friends as our present to everyone. We
have donated to such organizations as the Cancer Society and the WSPA.
This year, however, I’d like all of you to decided which charity the
donation should go to. Drop me a line about which charity our money
should go to and a brief reason why. I will choose one from all of the
responses. Hurry! Only 15 days left!!

 
That’s all for now so until next week, I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life!
The Princess 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Posted in Life at Work | 2 Comments

That’s Dirty!

Posted on December 4, 2005 by clubfredbaja
Hello again from the land of traffic, line-ups, retail…and snow!

Ah yes, that strange white stuff is falling from the sky for the third
or fourth day in a row; unusual for this area. Our snow is a little
sad. It is more slush than snow usually and never lasts for very long.
I saw a snowman down the street. The kid had used most of the snow
covering the front lawn to make it and, even so, there were still
leaves and dirt mixed in with it…and it was only about two feet tall.
Well, I still think snow is pretty and only lament that it has to be
so darn cold.

You may be wondering why we are not already enroute to someplace much
warmer by now. Excellent question. After nearly three weeks, we are
still waiting for word on whether we got the job or not. At one point
we’d written the whole thing off entirely and were busy working on Plan
B (a leisurely drive down to Baja and a few months as professional beach
bums) when we received a long overdue email from "BC" – the owner of the
resort. He thanked us for our patience, made it clear that he is
definitely not going to hire the other couple, and asked for more
patience while he reviewed a few more resumes. Mmmm hmm. So we wait. In
limbo. Under the Stairs.

Wipe those tears! Life is not so bad for us. Why just last night we
were invited over to the Kozak mansion for vittles and conversational
fun. Kozy and Tweeter, the supreme hosts, plied us with booze (sour
apple martini’s…yum), Kozy’s incredible cooking (thai noodles with
fresh lobster and prawns, beef tenderloin medallions with spinachy
stuffing, yorkshire pudding – HEAVEN!), and a humonous screen TV with
Tweeter’s high-tech supersonic sound system (I felt the earth move).
Benny & wife Banana joined in the frivolity and a wonderful time
was had by all – eventhough we are all five pounds heavier now.

During the course of the evening, Banana told us about friends who, to
my surprise, have been trying to have a baby for quite some time. This
led us to a discussion about children and the people who raise them. I
mentioned that there was a time that I used to offer up my opinions on
child-rearing quite freely but I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut for
many reasons.

Reason #1 – Most parents think that if you don’t have kids you cannot possibly have any concept of how to raise them.

Reason #2 – Most parents do not want to hear truth about their children or their parenting skills.

Reason #3 – Sometimes (very infrequently) I am proven wrong.

Let me start with the first reason – the fact that I do not have
children. I’ve never wanted to have kids. Not because I don’t like
kids; I love kids. Not because I had a bad childhood; I had a great
childhood. I’ve just always wanted so many things out of life that
wouldn’t be possible with a child (and I really, really like sleeping in). I may be selfish – I can live with
that – but I don’t feel that you should have kids simply because everyone
expects you to; raising children is a monumental responsibility and
should be taken very seriously. OK, I think you get it.

I may not be a parent but I am not blind and deaf either. Kids are all around,
everywhere I go – especially on airplanes. I am the person who has to
deal with the angels or monsters parents send out into the world.

The second reason, parents not wanting to hear the truth about their
kids or their parenting skills, is probably the biggest reason I keep
my yap shut nowadays. I have tried being very blunt and this generally
ends up with the parent defensive and angry. I’ve tried being
subtle, but that was a total wash in every case. The parents would
whole-heartedly agree with whatever subject I was discussing, assuming
that I was, of course, talking about someone else. "Oh
god, I know I just hate it when parents let their kids play hours and
hours of video games…BILLY, TURN DOWN THAT X-BOX, MOMMY"S TRYING TO
HAVE A CONVERSATION HERE!!!!"

And it’s not a bad thing, I have since come to realize. Children need
their parents to believe that they walk on water. Having one person in
the world who loves you and believes in you unconditionally is as
necessary to a developing human as oxygen. The world is a hard and unforgiving place.
Sometimes the only thing that stands between a child’s success or
failure is that Mom or Dad who refuses to let the world destroy their
baby’s self esteem.

My own Mom was a perfect example of this. She always saw the Best me;
never the girl who made up fibs, skipped school, snuck out at night,
dated one loser after another, etc. . When my eleventh grade psychology
teacher called my house to tell my mom that I had missed almost half
of the classes and was using notes with her forged signature, my mom’s
hackles shot up, she was offended. Not her
daughter, no way Jose! She insisted that there was a mistake, that all
of the missed classes and notes were legit. She even went through the
calendar, and with my prompting ("Remember I had the flu on November 5th Mom", "Oh yes, I remember") confirmed that all but two of the dates were on the up and up and Mr. Bennet probably made a mistake about those two days.

Do I really think my mom believed me? Yes and no. The logical side of
her brain knew I was skipping classes but the highly dominant parental
part of the brain assured her that I was not. I don’t look back on that
incident and see a dupe, I see a woman who truly loved her daughter.
Now my kid would have got her ass whooped…but that’s another story.

Last, and least, is the fact that my beliefs and assumptions about
parenting have been proved wrong a few times. Yes, I can feel your
shock and dismay. Have no fear, it is a rare phenomenen much like
Haley’s comet or Madonna making a good movie (Oh wait, that last one
has never happened). Whether it’s weird genetics or something in their
cereal, some kids just turn out completely different than how everyone
predicts they will. My hubby likes to joke about how no one he grew up with would ever have predicted his future correctly.

Yes, my Prez was one of those kids I would have been afraid of in
school. A ne’er-do-well whose greatest scholastic acheivement, prior to
dropping out, was blowing up the toilets and closing down the school
for a day. That he would someday be an A-list stunt perfomer, earning
six figures, with a house in Canada & Mexico, and known among his
friends as a man with high ethics and integrity…who could have
guessed? Fred’s Dad had passed away before I was in the picture but I
can tell you that his Mom is terrific and the Prez probably owes a lot
of his success to her. And he should pick up the phone right now and
call her and tell her how great she is and apologize for being such a
trouble-maker all those years!

So there you have it, my reasons for staying mum about Mom (and Dad).
Oh I know what you’re thinking: Please, please, tell us what you really
think and feel about parenting, please! Well, if you insist…

The last few years I’ve spent a great deal of time around the
chronologically challenged (young people) and their handlers (parents)
and during that time I’ve made a few observations. Here they are:

a) "Well-adjusted" kids are the minority. I’ve noticed that
kids who are friendly and outgoing are often also brats, and kids who
are polite and well-behaved are usually shy and withdrawn. Not much
middle ground. And working at Chapters I began to see why this is so.
Parents seem to fall at either extreme of the "care spectrum". There
were the ones who’d come in and dump all their kids off in the
children’s section then head directly to Starbuck’s. The little
hellions would fall instantly to yanking books off the shelves and
making a general mess (I once saw a kid pick his nose, wipe the booger
on the inside of the book, and stick it back on the shelf). Then there
were the "overachievers" who’d march in and demand the latest and
greatest study guides for their poor prodigy who looked like they’d
give their eye-teeth for just one hour of unscheduled, good old
fashioned, non-goal-oriented play time. Yes parents need to care, need
to be involved in their kids lives but they also need to recognize that
being bored and just doing "kid stuff" is important too.

b) Kids spend way too much time in front of electronic devices. Do I really need to explain this one?

c) Let them fall on their ass. Probably the most difficult thing I can
imagine having to do as a parent would be to watch your baby girl or
boy, of any age, fail or get hurt. The urge to step in and help must be
overwhelming but we all know, because we’ve all been there, that
without those experiences we can’t grow. We learn more from our
failures than from our successes. Yet I’ve seen so many parents step in
to "help" and what the kid learns is that they don’t have to be
responsible because Mom or Dad will always bail them out.

d) Parents are scaring their children. I don’t really blame parents for
this, I blame CNN. We live in such a strange society, we panic at the
thought of West Nile virus or terrorists but think nothing of stuffing
our mugs (and our children) with McDonalds and Coke. I, personally, do
not know anyone who has been killed by West Nile Virus or a terrorist
but I know people who’ve died of heart disease and diabetes. The same
parents who will not allow their children to walk one block to school
for fear of pedophiles will happily leave them, unattended, at Chapters
for hours. Easy prey for any of the many adults wandering around. I don’t get it.

While I was at the airport recently, sitting in the stall of an
incredibly clean washroom (astoundingly clean, really), a mother came
into the washroom with her young child. "DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING IN HERE!" she cautioned, "EVERYTHING IS EXTREMEMLY DIRTY!!"
Was she in a different washroom from me, I wondered. Washing my hands,
I noted that the dire warning only inspired the toddler to reach out a
hand to the counter. "THAT’S DIRTY!!"
the mother practically screamed. On and on she went through the whole
bathroom process, "Don’t touch! That’s dirty! You’ll get sick if you
touch anything in here!". I saw them later in the waiting area, the
child was crawling all over the floor, touching every germ-laden
railing and handle in sight…I shook my head. I still have an image in
my head of that kid, lying on a couch saying, "Doctor, I just don’t know where my fear of washrooms comes from but…(sobbing)…it’s destroying my life!!"

But what do I know, I don’t have kids.

e) Monkey see monkey do. Want your kid to read? Read. Want your kid to
be healthy? Exercise and eat right. Want your kid to succeed? Get off your tushy and show
them what motivation is. Kids catch on to double standards real quick
folks. Your behaviour will show them what is really important to you. Your words, at a certain point, become almost meaningless.

I could go on and on but I think I’ve rambled enough for now…and my dinner is almost ready.

Parents you have a tough job, the toughest in the world. Tough and,
mostly, thankless. My hat is firmly off to all of you brave enough to
rise to the challenge. Would I, in your position, do any better?
Doubtful. God, I can barely look after my cat!

I’ll close with the story of the uber-parent of the animal kingdom: the
Emperor Penguin. Adult penguins walk about 70 miles across the icy
wasteland of Antarctica to mate and lay their eggs. After the egg is
laid, and months without food, females head back to the sea to eat,
leaving Dad to egg-sit, without food, through the bitter winter
(temperatures drop to -80F at times!). The chicks hatch, Mom returns
and now Dad makes the long trek for food. Mom raises and protects the
chick, then both parents spell each other off until the babies are old
enough to be left alone. Many penguins die during the ordeal and, in
the end, when the chick is independent, the parents return to the sea
and will likely never again see the children they made such sacrifices
for.

Now that is love.

To my parent friends…I salute you!

And the next time your kids complain about something, tell them that at least they don’t have to eat regurgitated fish!

Now that’s dirty!

Cheers all, and until next week I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life!
The Princess

Posted in Family & Children | 1 Comment

Pajamas at Four – The art of relaxation

Posted on November 27, 2005 by clubfredbaja
Hello again from the land of traffic, line-ups and retail!
 
It is, as you may have garnered from the title, four in the afternoon and I am still wearing my pajamas. If I were to ask for an adjective to describe someone wearing pajamas, unwashed and without any serious occupation at this point in the day you might, logically, choose "lazy". I prefer "relaxed". Society would like me to feel guilty right now but I refuse. Correction: North American society would like me to feel guilty…I still refuse.
 
Why are we so afraid to relax? Do we truly believe that the world will come crashing down around us if we take one day to do nothing?
 
I have a girlfriend, the lovely Miss Banana, who has this incredible bathroom with a giant bath tub and when I saw it for the first time (practically salivating, I might add) she told me that she never uses it. What??!!?? It’s not even that she doesn’t have enough time but when she does have the time she feels like she is wasting time by just lying there doing nothing. My disbelief could not be contained, "Wow, if I had a tub like this I’d use it every day!" (and I would, just ask the Prez), she shrugged; it simply is not an issue for her. She’s not alone. Most people I know cannot be still and do nothing, even if they’re sick or completely run down.
 
So where does this come from, this feeling that we are "wasting" time if we are not filling it with activity? Afterall, there are religions who postulate that the road to true enlightenment lies through hours, days, weeks, months and years of meditation. I’ve come up with a theory I like to call the "Finish Everything on Your Plate!" theory and it’s basically a leftover (pun slightly intended) from our not-so-distant ancestors.
 
How many of you had parents who scolded you if you did not finish everything on your plate at dinner? Were you threatened with spankings, made to sit at the table until you were done, or cut out of the dessert loop if you did not lick your plate clean? Luckily, this is a problem I never had, in fact I would often be eyeing up the morsels on other family member’s plates. "Are you going to finish that porkchop Mom? No? Great!" But for those of you who lacked my chow-down-ed-ness, I am willing to bet that to this day you feel guilty if you do not eat everything on your plate. Many of you have eaten way past the point of fullness on occassion, and at least a few of you have weight issues because of this empty plate guilt.
 
But you’re grown-up now right? Didn’t you vow, sitting at that deserted dinner table at ten o’clock, that when you were an adult you would eat only what you wanted, when you wanted? So why can’t you just push the plate away when you’re full and be happy with a wonderful meal? Why? Because you have been programmed, that’s why. Like Pavlov’s dog salivating at the sound of the bell (and yours truly salivating over a soaker tub), the sight of food left on a plate triggers deep-rooted feelings of guilt.
 
Don’t get me wrong, I am not giving you the freedom to throw your hands in the air and say, "It’s not my fault and there’s nothing I can do about it!". No. You have to re-program yourself. You have to push away that plate of food, rub your tummy, burp, smile, and say, "Wow that was fabulous! Now I’m going to have a slice of pie!!" and you have to keep doing this until your inner nag puts a sock in it.
 
Now back to the pajamas part…
 
There was a time that we needed to be productive simply to survive. If you weren’t ridiculously wealthy (which ninety percent of the world never is) then you had to make sure the cows got milked, the fields were ploughed, wood was cut for the winter, and whatever it is you have to do to make chickens happy got done. Neglecting your chores didn’t mean a spanking, it meant, possibly, starvation. Relaxation was a luxury most could not afford.
 
The Great Depression is permanently burned into the psyche of most of our parents and grandparents. No work = no money = no food = no fun. And with that black cloud hanging over everyone’s heads, society put its collective noses to the grindstone.
 
Even with the industrial age,with machines and their promise of a better future, we did not relax. With each new gadget, from the lightbulb to the cell phone, we’ve been sold on the idea that our life would get easier. But each new gadget costs money and so we have to work harder, and harder, and harder to afford these miraculous time-saving devices. Worse, the possesion of "stuff" has melded itself onto our self esteem. Woe the child who does not wear name brand clothes or have an X-Box. Woe.
 
I saw a commercial recently (yes, there is a television with cable under the stairs where we live) showing a young boy at the market with his mother. The boy turns and sees a new, flashy SUV pull up. A woman gets out and walks over to the vegetable stall where the boy and his mom are standing. The boy looks up at his mother, scrutinizing, lets go of her hand and grasps the hand of the fancy SUV woman. This is one of the most dangerous ads I have ever seen. The message is devastating: "If you don’t own the right stuff you will be abandoned even by those who love you most". Where are the protests? The boycotts? Nowhere. You won’t hear a peep about this ad because the idea that we must WORK WORK WORK to buy MORE MORE MORE has been force fed to us since we were children. It’s not enough to have a little, not enough to have a lot, no, you must have it all. You must finish everything on your plate!
 
For most of us, there are no more cows to be milked. Life can be simple, if we choose it to be so. Relaxation is possible now; the free time we’ve waited so long for is ours at last! We can take a day to do nothing. We can wear pajamas at four in the afternoon on a Sunday. Yes we can.
 
But mostly we don’t – wear pajamas or relax.
 
I slept-in today. Really slept-in. Eleven a.m. slept-in. I was up late the night before but that’s not important. I was tired, I slept-in, the world did not come to an end.
 
I didn’t get up right away. For awhile I sat in bed and replayed the fun I had at the trivia competition we went to with the Roney’s last night. The Prez and I filled in for a couple that had bailed at the last minute. Our team name was "Notsomensa", the Prez’s idea, which I thought was terribly clever.Then Emily came over and I had to pet her because she loves cuddling with me in the morning (one of three things she actually loves – the other two being food). Then I thought for a bit about the new Harry Potter movie I saw and how much I loved it. Of course I had to recall several of my favorite scenes. And that lead to various fantasies involving me and Gary Oldman as the character Sirius Black…mmm, rebel wizard with a tragic past, sexy. Next I contemplated what I was going to write about for this week’s Chronicles. I’ve wanted to write about sex for some time but can’t quite find the right segway. We still haven’t heard back about our job in Little Cayman and this took a few moments of my time to consider. After I had exhausted most of my pressing thoughts, I decided to get up and have something to eat. It was noon and the world was still functioning perfectly well.
 
At the Prez’s request, I made breakfast. Not my forte but that’s what you do when you love someone. My friend Deb Mac called. She asked what I was going to do today. "Nothing" I said proudly.I tidied up the breakkie mess and made my way back under the stairs to watch the glass teat for a bit. I also ate a chocolate covered cookie from the box that was part of our prize for 24th place in the trivia competition. Five minutes later I had another one. The world? Just peachy thanks.
 
Round about, oh, two o’clock I started thinking I should start writing. An hour later I had another cookie. At three-thirty my Chronicle topic finally came to me. And at four pm, with two more cookies under my belt, I sat down to write. So here I am. I’ve done pretty much nothing all day. I’m feeling incredibly relaxed. And…hold on…I’ll just have a peek out the window…yes, the world is still getting on very nicely!
 
I don’t need to have it all to be happy. Actually, if I didn’t take days like this out of my life, if I didn’t choose to waste twenty-four hours now and then, I wouldn’t be very happy at all. I can push my plate away when I feel full no matter how much is left to be consumed.
 
Push your plate away folks. Rub your tummy. Burp. Smile. Now go get that slice of pie!
 
Thanks for listening. Until next week, I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life!
 
The Princess 
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Cayman-ia! (Part II)

Posted on November 21, 2005 by clubfredbaja
Hello again from, well, you know where!
 
When we last left our heroes (that would be the Prez and I) they were battling the harsh elements of Little Cayman Island…well, er…perhaps not "harsh" exactly…and, um…OK,OK they weren’t battling anything except maybe having too much condensation on their cocktail glasses…but that can be pretty traumatic right? Right?! 
 
Very well then…
 
Day three, our second full day on island, began with a gorgeous morning dive. The wind was still being a party pooper and keeping us from Bloody Bay Wall but the dive we did on the South side was fabulous anyway, with lots of cool swim-throughs and superb visibility. At one point I looked up and thought, ‘Oh it looks like we’re about 30 feet down or so’, then consulted my dive computer only to discover that we were 85 feet down!
 
After the dive and another great buffet lunch, BC took us and two other couples on a tour of the island. BC and his family have been coming to Little Cayman for over thirty years (his family actually settled in the Caymans some time in the 18th century) so he knew every house and owner as well as the history of the properties. I won’t lie, there isn’t much to see there. The majority of sight-seeing is done below the water. We stopped at the small museum which was surprisingly interesting, and also at the National Trust building which sits on the edge of the Booby Pond and has viewing platforms for bird watching. The highlight of the tour was a stop to see, and feed, the large black iguanas that inhabit the island. Wilma had given me some old bananas to take along for the attention seeking reptiles and I had every intention of sharing with the other guests, however, when we finally arrived, no one was too eager to risk life and limb and I was sent out first as a kind of guinea pig. Of course once they saw that I still had all my fingers, some of the other guests joined in too. Iguanas are so cool; they truly are dinosaurs!
 
Our final full day on island was spent, mostly, in more conversation with Wilma & Ivan, the current managers. We did make time for a little fun by kayaking out to Owen Island – the use of the word "fun" here is debatable as we were paddling into a 20 mile an hour wind and then, once on the island, Fred decided to take me into the jungle where I quickly became a mosquito smorgasbord! We also took advantage of the awesome tennis court on the property, although, again, the amount of "fun" to be had playing in the mid-afternoon heat and humidity when you are definitely not yet acclimatized is questionable.
 
We spent the last evening chatting with BC, then with Ivan and Wilma. Then we were off on the first flight out the next morning.
 
So how did it go? You may be wondering. Good question. From our end it seemed like things went very well. We got along fine with BC, the managers, the staff (though some were a little suspicious, as staff tend to be of new management) and the guests. The job is totally within our capability; there are areas we could certainly improve upon and areas where we’d have to do our homework. Ivan and Wilma have done a brilliant job of taking a disorganized mess and turning it into a streamlined and profitable business. Their background is corporate management and just what the resort needed. Now that there are procedures and policies in place the resort is, technically, running smoothly. What the Prez and I saw there is a huge lack of customer service and a need for management with big, friendly personalities to set the tone for resort…too bad the Prez is so shy and withdrawn!
 
We were the first of only two couples to be interviewed for the position; this alone makes me feel good as Ivan and Wilma apparently recieved hundreds of resumes. The other couple is on island as I write this. Right now I put our chances at 50/50. We know that the other couple has owned their own resort (obviously good experience) and they are European (Ivan has a definite preference for Europeans). I think it will come down to personality and whether this couple likes the island. We’ll know either way by the end of this week. It would be a great job in many respects but we’ve learned enough to know that there are more opportunities out there and so our hopes aren’t pinned on this resort.
 
I do hate waiting though!
 
The story doesn’t end here folks!! We had a three hour stopover in Grand Cayman so we grabbed a taxi and rode into town to check it out. Sooooooo, we won’t be visiting Grand Cayman any time soon! Not one, not three, not five…no SEVEN cruise ships were in port and it was like a cattle drive for chubby, middle aged white people! Ick!! Now I know lots of you nice folks like cruises and I know why and no you’re not a bad person for feeling that way but, honestly, turning paradise into a cruise ship destination is like the kiss of death. I wondered, as I watched these throngs of tourists shuffle from one overpriced tacky souvenier (crap) shop to the next, does it really matter which island you’re on or which country you’re in? I mean if all you’re doing is shopping (which the vast majority were) why get off the ship at all? Why not fill one section of the ship with shops from different places and it would be pretty much the same experience but less crowded.
 
What a culture shock coming from Little to Grand. You can see on the faces of the locals that they are burnt out from these masses of visitors. I felt like shouting out to everyone, "This is not the REAL Caribbean!!!". The Prez and I did manage to have some fun though. You see there are dozens of tour companies that have reps all over the place shouting out, ‘snorkelling!’, ‘see the stingrays!’, ‘island tours!’, etc., etc. (you get the point) so we started shouting out, ‘Salmon fishing!’, ‘whale watching!’, ‘bear tours – see the grizzlies in their natural habitat!’ – we didn’t get any takers, just a few odd stares, but it was worth it.
 
I’ll wrap up my cruise rant with my favorite cruise passenger line which I overheard during lunch. A woman complained to a passenger from another ship, "I don’t know what y’all’s boat is like but ours is terrible, I mean you can actually feel the boat moving!" Hmm…you’re on a boat, on the water, with 20 mile and hour winds and 10 foot seas, and you can actually feel movement? Totally unacceptable!! (Sorry, sorry, sorry to my cruise lover readers, sorry, I know I’m mean, sorry, sorry, sorry, I really do love you!)
 
 
Next, we flew back to Miami. I’ve actually come up with a new slogan for Miami, "Welcome to Miami! Now sit down, shut up, and stay out of our way!!". Think they’ll go for it? But wait, we went to pick up a rental car at Enterprise, by the airport, and wow, if we didn’t have the most helpful, friendly, and professional young woman dealing with us – for a moment we thought we were in the wrong city! We then drove our little rental beast north to go visit our good buddies the Baneys.
 
For those of you new to the Chronicles, we met Mike & Nancy and their kids while we were managing Sea Level Cottages in the Bahamas and became instant friends. Mike was, sadly (sniff) called out of town on business just prior to our visit but Nancy (what a trooper) was there to welcome us and listen to all our rambling about our interview. The Prez and I both agree that Nancy is probably the most beautiful woman we know because her beauty is both outside and, more importantly, inside (Nancy would never ridicule cruise ship passengers). Our time together was short (we were up at 4:30am to head back to the airport) but we are so glad that we made the trip (even with all that f&*%%$^ing Miami traffic). Thanks Nancy (& kids)!
 
Another quick and pleasant stop at Enterprise Rental Cars – they are definitely importing their staff, there can be no other explanation – and back to our favorite airport to catch our flight to Seattle. It was a nice flight. I hardly noticed the kid kicking the back of my seat and puking the entire way.
 
So here we are, back in the Roney’s basement, waiting. Well, at least we have the best friends in the world to wait with! I’ll be posting on Monday and I’ll let you know if we’ll be packing our bathing suits and sunscreen or taking our parkas out of storage.
 
Until then, I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life!
The Princess
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Cayman-ia! (Part I)

Posted on November 19, 2005 by clubfredbaja
Hello again from the land of traffic, line-ups and retail!
 
Can you imagine going back in time and telling someone from two hundred years ago that we can travel three thousand miles across land and sea in twenty four hours? They’d think you were mad, probably burn you as a witch for the mere suggestion. Yet that is precisely what the Prez and I did this week.
 
Last Saturday our wagon headed south to Seattle and we boarded a plane bound for Miami; final destination Little Cayman Island and an interview for the position of General Managers of Little Cayman Beach Resort. It would be twenty-six long hours (including driving and waiting times) from point to point during which time we would have the opportunity to consume in-edible airport food, show our passport two thousand and forty-seven times, and lament that children are not crated and put in the cargo hold of the plane like pets.
 
I am a brat magnet. Parents, let me be perfectly clear about something: I love your kids. Kids are wonderful; they are so open, honest, curious and energetic. I think your kids are fabulous…except when they are on the same plane as me. Inevitably, the person sitting behind me will always be a four year old wailing like a wounded badger and beating on the back of my seat with their feet for the entire flight. You all must know by now that I am not a person to advocate violence, however, on our very last flight I was seized with the urge to leap out of my seat, gag and duct tape the kid behind me to the chair then kick the back of his seat for an hour or so screaming, "How do you like it!!!!" (there I’ve vented, much better). 
 
OK, back to the story…
 
So we arrived in Miami first, and within half an hour remembered why we hate flying into the Miami airport so much. If there was an award for ugliest airport with the worst customer service, Miami would be a shoe-in. Am I sounding a little negative here? No worries, it does get better, I promise! Next flight was to Grand Cayman and from there we boarded a Twin Otter to Little Cayman.
 
There are three Cayman Islands; Grand Cayman, Cayman Brac and Little Cayman. As the name would suggest, Grand is the largest and most developed of the three. This is where the cruise ships dock – there will be more about that later. Brac and Little are referred to as the Sister Islands. They are roughly the same size (aprox 11 miles long and 1 mile across) and only five miles apart, though Brac has about two thousand full time residents and Little has fewer than two hundred.
 
Little Cayman is a gem of an island. Famous for diving and especially the world renowned Bloody Bay Wall, it boasts a largely pristine natural environment and the third largest bird sanctuary in the Caribbean. The land is flat, flat, flat and there are no rivers, which means no sediment flowing into the ocean, which means crystal clear water, which means you can see over a hundred feet down on most days! No one comes to Little Cayman for the nightlife; there are few resorts and only one stand-alone restaurant. What Little Cayman does have plenty of is peace, quiet and relaxation.
 
We were met at the airport (I use that term loosely, "runway" would be more accurate) by the owner of the resort – I’ll call him "BC" for "Big Cheese". He’s a friendly guy in his mid-fifties and made us feel immediately welcome and at ease. Within minutes we were at the resort, checked in and saying hello to the current managers (I’ll call them Ivan & Wilma, after the hurricanes) who were also very friendly. To our surprise, the Prez and I were set up in one of the beachfront rooms; one of the nicest ones on the property. Also unexpected was the complete lack of formality. We’d been prepping and studying (The Prez especially, he was like a machine) for what we imagined was going to be an in-depth interview, one where we’d have to be on our toes and ready to show our expertise, so you can imagine how we felt when we asked what the plan was and were told that, essentially, there was no plan. It seemed a little odd but, hey, we are nothing if not adaptable!
 
Night one was spent, primarily, looking around the property and chatting with BC, Ivan & Wilma, and the guests. It was a huge relief to see that this place was tidy and organized – unlike the monkey’s wedding of Sea Level Cottages. I suppose if you hate quaint, pastel coloured buildings, loathe palm trees and stunning blue water, and despise sipping fruity cocktails by the pool then this is not the place for you…we loved it, funny about that.
 
Ivan told us that we were more than welcome to sign up for a dive the next morning but we were quite jet-lagged and decided to do an afternoon dive instead. And make no mistake, this is a resort for and about divers. Guests rise early for the breakfast buffet and hot-foot it down to the dock by 8am for the morning dives. The boats return around noon and the guests have a swim and a bit of a relax before the buffet lunch. By 2:30pm they are back on the boats and headed out for the afternoon dive. Dinner buffet is next between 6:30 and 8:30pm, after which almost everyone is zonked and back in their rooms.
 
The great thing about small towns and small islands is that there are all kinds of stories and usually everyone is quite happy to tell them to you. Ucluelet had its fair share of rascals and scandals, political problems, and family feuds – Little Cayman is no different. The first half of day two Ivan and Wilma filled us in on not only the day to day operations of the resort, but also all the juicy tidbits that make small island living interesting, sometimes frustrating, and always challenging.
 
The Current hoo-ha in the Caymans revolves around New Year’s Eve. The Islands took a real beating after the big hurricane of 2003. Grand Cayman suffered massive damage, not helped by the fact that the government (who fled the country and left the expats to stop the looting during the disaster) tried to keep the whole thing quiet instead of asking for much needed help. Tourism, one of the main sources of revenue for the Caymans, was hit hard and is still struggling to recover. New Year’s Eve falls on a Saturday this year; there is a law, designed to encourage locals to attend church, which forbids drinking, dancing and music after 11pm on Saturdays. Any rational person would say, "Oh heck, it’s one night of the year and tourists will certainly expect to party after midnight". yes, any rational person would say that but who ever said governments were rational? The government has agreed to a one hour extension but after the stroke of midnight the party must come to a grinding halt. As usual, tourists are voting with their dollars and bookings are down by up to ninety percent from last year. Ivan and Wilma told us that Caymanians are deeply religious…when it suits them. Apparently having several children, with several fathers, out of wedlock or cheating on your spouse with multiple partners is not as much of a crime against god as doing the Macarena and sipping a Pina Colada after ringing in the New Year. You know how god hates the Macarena! Well, I may not be religious but it appears god and I finally have something in common!
 
Moving right along…
 
The Prez and I jumped aboard the afternoon dive boat for a little bubble making. Sadly, the wind made things pretty bumpy thanks to Tropical Depression #35, or whatever it was, still we managed to have a fairly decent dive. I certainly do miss being below the water and frolicking with our fishy friends! Diving Little Cayman could spoil a girl as, along with the stupendous visibility, there is very little current. I’m not a fan of current. I remember one dive in Key Largo where the current was so strong that during our five minute safety stop my body was completely horizontal and it was tiring just trying to hang on to the rope. Oh yes, and 82F water in November certainly doesn’t hurt either!
 
I’ll wrap up part one by saying that by the end of day two we were having a lovely time; the meals were great, the weather was textbook (can you say warm?), and there were plenty of nice people to chat with. In part two I’ll tell you about our next two days and how we thought the interview went overall – and I won’t make you wait a week for it either. Ooooo a Coconutty cliffhanger!
 
So until the next posting I hope this finds everyone healthy, happy & lovin’ life!
 
The Princess
 
 
 
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