Someone selling Oakley sunglasses.

This place is barely born and the buzzards are already here...

And I'm one of the first to post on it!

But it looks an awful lot like WordPress. I'm curious to see what it has that WordPress doesn't.

I don't see a way to modify my font yet.

Are we going to have themes, as in WordPress, or will we be able to format text as with a word processor?

What do ul ol li mean?

So much to learn and discover. But I'm glad Xanga's back.

My wife Alicia's rich mezzo-soprano voice gives me goosebumps, especially combined with the powerful lyrics of this song. The audio is a little distorted because the volume overdrove my phone's microphone, but it should give you a taste of Colombia's greatest female voice singing an absolutely lovely song. I recorded it two weeks ago at the Cali Viejo restaurant in Brandon, FL. 

Alicia, being a professional musician, doesn't like having unauthorized videos or recordings made public, so this may only be up a few hours or days. She's presently in Colombia trying to get health insurance for her son. When she gets back, she will be singing every other weekend at the restaurant. Her sister Angela is there every Friday. (Don't forget to say hi to the tall gringo with the ponytail.)

The song was written by Violeta Parra, the Chilean ethnomusicologist and artist. Translated lyrics are below.  (Translating them has been a very moving experience. I started from someone else's draft and made many changes.)

To be seventeen once again after living a century
is like deciphering signs without wisdom or skill,
suddenly, again, as fragile as a second,
with all the solemnity of a child before God.
That is what I feel in this fertile instant. 

Twining, entangling it grows like the ivy on the wall
It sprouts and blooms like moss on the stone.
Like moss on the stone, oh yes yes yes

My steps withdraw while yours keep advancing
The arch of alliances has penetrated my nest
With its full palette of color it has wandered through my veins
and even the hard chain with which destiny binds us
is like a fine diamond that illuminates my serene soul.

Emotion has accomplished what knowledge cannot
nor can the most clearcut behavior nor the broadest thought
The moment changes everything like an obliging magician
It removes us sweetly from rancor and violence
Only love with its science can make us so innocent.

Love is a whirlwind of original purity
Even the fierce animal whispers its sweet trill
It halts the pilgrims and frees the prisoners
Love, so hard-working, turns the aged into a child
and only kind affection can make evil men pure and sincere.

The window flew open as if by pure enchantment
Love entered with its cloak, like a warm morning
At the sound of its beautiful reveille, the jasmine burst into bloom
Flying like a seraph, love placed earrings in the sky
and the cherub made me seventeen once again

Mercedes Sosa is famous for performing Violeta Parra's music:

We held our Colombian wedding at the Hacienda Fizebad on November 25, 2012. It was a glorious event.

This is a short video summary. Unfortunately the videographer didn’t stay around for the reception.

What was the last thing you put in your mouth? A Dunkin Donuts cream-filled donut.

Have you ever kissed anyone named Matthew? No! Yuck. He's got a mustache, and besides, he's a guy.

Where was your profile picture taken? I think it was the inside balcony of the house in Pasto, Colombia where we lived in 1961. (Most older houses have an indoor patio.)

Can you play guitar hero? No.

Name someone that made you laugh today? No one, yet.

How late did you stay up last night and why? Until after midnight. Because nunyabidness.

If you could move somewhere else, would you? Yes, to a house with no mold and needing less remodeling.

Ever been kissed under fireworks? My wife kisses me everywhere.

Which of your friends lives closest to you? My friend Scott lives in Orlando, about 90 minutes away.

Do you believe exes can be friends? Yes, but it's not always a good idea, especially if you have a new love.

How do you feel about Dr Pepper? I have no problem with Dr Pepper. In fact, some of my best friends are Dr Pepper.

When was the last time you cried really hard? I think it was 2001.

Where are you right now? Work. St. Petersburg, FL.

What bed did you sleep in last night? The futon in my sister-in-law's living room.

What was the last thing someone bought for you for dinner? I think it was the margarita my sister treated us to last weekend.

Who took your profile picture? A guy named Bill Smallman who visited us in Pasto, Colombia in 1961.

Who was the last person you took a picture of? Probably Alicia and me.

Was yesterday better than today? I don't know. Today hasn't finished happening.

Can you live a day without TV? I rarely watch TV.

Are you mad about anything? I don't think so.

Are you upset about anything? Yes. The moldy condition of my house and the fact that we can't stay there because it makes my wife sick.

Do you think relationships are ever really worth it? Most definitely.

Are you a bad influence? Not to my knowledge.

Night out or night in? Tonight my sister-in-law Angela has a singing gig at the Colombian restaurant. We'll be there to support her and do some singing.

What items could you not go without during the day? Cell phone. Toilet paper.

Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? Alicia.

What does the last text message in your inbox say? "Ask agent about warranty on house. It's standard here."

How do you feel about your life right now? Stressed. Our dream house has become a nightmare.

Do you hate anyone? Not on purpose, but there are a couple of people that I wouldn't miss if I never heard from them again.

If we were to look in your Xanga inbox, what would we find? Other than a cryptic post by @JSolberg, mostly the same stuff as yesterday. Xanga is a ghost town.

Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass? Drug test? Like, Name That Pill? Identify antibiotics by their taste? Match parasites with the best treatment? 

Has anyone ever called you perfect before? My wife thinks I'm amazing. That's close enough.

What song is stuck in your head? La quiero a morir (Francis Cabrel)

Someone knocks on your window at 2am, who do you want it to be? Our cat Ruta. But she meows and sometimes pulls the screen off.

Wanna have grandkids before you’re 50? Pointless question. I'm 53, and none of my four kids is close to getting married. My stepson is 15.

Name something you have to do tomorrow? Seal an a/c chase into the attic.

Do you think too much or too little? Too little, about things that really matter. Too much, about trivia.

Do you smile a lot? Yes. I'm a lot happier than I was the first 45 years of my life.

Who was your last missed call on your Mobile phone? My daughter Hannah. I called her on the way home last night, but my calls always drop on the St. Petersburg I-275 causeway.

Is there something you always wear? Clothes, nearly always.

What were you doing 30 minutes ago? Checking my other blog.

Did you have an exciting last weekend? Alicia and I were in LA visiting my older sisters. We had an excellent time.

Have you ever crawled through a window? When my best friend got married in 1980, one of the other groomsmen and I climbed up balconies to the newlyweds' third-floor apartment. I helped the other guy climb into the bathroom window, which was out beyond the edge of the balcony, and then we trashed the apartment. I have climbed through windows myself, but can't remember when.

Have you ever dyed your hair? No. I asked my little sister (who works at a salon) about covering my gray but she said salt-and-pepper looks good on me. In any case, dyed hair on guys usually looks creepy.

Are you wearing a necklace? No.

Are you an emotional person? I don't cry easily, but I try hard to feel my feelings. I get manic when I'm with my kids and when I'm with my wife.

What's something that can always make you feel better? Affection from my wife. A cold bottle of hard cider.

Will this weekend be a good one? Mostly it will be hard work. Tonight, though, we'll go to the Colombian restaurant to sing with my sister-in-law.

What do you want right now? My house to be mold-free so we can live in it.

Have you ever worn the opposite sex's clothing? I wore a Little Mermaid sheet for a toga at a retreat in 2005.

Have you ever worked in a food place? I cooked for a summer evangelism project in Aspen in 1982. That was fun. In 1984 I cooked lunches for a child care center owned by some friends. I was also Saturday cook for a fraternity. That didn't go so well.

What's on your schedule for tomorrow? Working on the house: cleaning up mold, sealing an a/c chase into the attic, pressure-washing the back porch and patio.

Does anyone know your Xanga password? Yes, my daughter who set my account up back in 2005.

[Edit: Just discovered I missed these two questions]

What do you want right now? A cold drink.

Night out or night in? Tonight will be out, but in general my preference is night in.

The Sunday before we were to return from Colombia, I got an e-mail from my sister-in-law saying that Fortuna, our smaller female cat, hadn't come home when she called. The next day she wasn't back either.

Due to a delayed flight, we got home at 2:30 a.m. Thursday. When we went to the lanai, we found that the cats had been getting out through a hole in the screen door and only Pumpkin was there. Alicia called, and Simon turned up, and then Ruta. We heard meowing far off beyond the neighbor's house. "Oh, no, Fortuna's in a tree!" said Alicia.

The next day we explored the neighbors' yards until we found her, high in a tree surrounded by thick jungle, two doors down. After a series of fruitless calls to our arborist and various others, we spent two hours on the neighbors' roof, trying to sling a clothesline over a branch. We finally managed to pull a basket up into the tree, laden with cat food and water. The plan was for Fortuna to climb into it to eat, whereupon we would drop the basket down.

Unfortunately, she didn't go near the basket. I changed out the cat food and water on Friday while Fortuna meowed at me. As far as we know, it was her first time ever to climb a tree in her life. She was an apartment cat until a few months ago.

Saturday morning our tree guy finally called back. He had misplaced his phone. He came right over and got to work.

This is a view of the tree from the neighbors' roof. The ladder is twenty feet long, so that gives you an idea of the height. The cat was initially at the top of the vine, where there's a cluster of philodendrons. Then she got scared and climbed further up.

She ended up higher than can be seen in this photo.

There's actually a driveway among all that growth.

Fortuna freaked out when Ron climbed up, and went as far out on her limb as she could. You can see Ron in the middle of this photo. Fortuna is due left of his feet about halfway to the edge of the photo, where the thick branch forks. They must have been more than 50 feet above the ground.

Here you can see her better, in the lower left corner of the photo.

Ron dropped the rope to me, and I sent up a cat carrier.

Then he edged over to where he could reach her. He grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and stuffed her into the carrier. After closing the doors, he lowered her down to where I stood on the roof. (Sorry, the first video is just four seconds.)

Back at the house, she promptly sought privacy behind the woodpile. (The floor is filthy because of some heavy rains while we were gone that flooded the porch edge. Alicia wants you to know it's not because of her housekeeping.)

Wednesday's return trip from Colombia included a lot of weirdness.

Travel papers and my wife's assertiveness:

Alicia's US residency hasn't come through yet, so we had requested an Advance Parole that would allow her to re-enter the US. It arrived the week before she went to Colombia. There were two copies that appeared identical, so she took one along and left one at home, at my suggestion.

At the line in front of the Spirit Airlines desk, they have a desk where they check the passenger list and inspect passports. Alicia gave them her travel documents, and the girl said, "Do you have the other copy of your Parole? You can't travel with this one."

"Both copies are the same," I said. "In any case, it's not your problem, it's something we can work out once we get to the US."

She shook her head. "The other one is the one you need. They won't let her into the US with this one, and we can't let her on the plane. Can you please step aside so the line can move?"

"I'm not moving anywhere until you find a way to let us travel," Alicia said. She demanded to see the girl's supervisor.

"I'm the one in charge," the girl said.

Alicia shook her head. "There must be someone higher up we can talk to. Who do you answer to?" she insisted. 

After a long argument, the girl said she would call the Embassy, and she left. The passenger line at Spirit petered out. Our luggage porter was still standing by the cart with our bags, so we paid him off and he left. I fumbled through my phone in case I had the Embassy number on it. (I didn't. Something to think about next time.)

A few minutes later, the girl returned. "The Embassy said it would be okay to travel with this copy. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience," she said.

Airport security and guys with ponytails:

Airport security in Medellín is very thorough. They have the usual metal detector and carry-on luggage x-ray, but a police officer also looks at the bags and asks questions before you can move on to the immigration booth. Sometimes there's an additional carry-on check at the gate.

In front of us in line was a Colombian guy with a ponytail, carrying only a laptop in a soft case. The policewoman was clearly suspicious of him. She opened the laptop and ran it through the x-ray twice, turned different directions. She turned the case inside out and felt it thoroughly. Finally she gave him back his belongings and he moved on.

I was carrying a massively heavy bag full of ceramic dishes, and fully expected to have the guard empty it and unwrap each piece, as on my previous four return trips. I had two laptops in my briefcase. And I also have a ponytail.

Alicia went through the metal detector first, and the officer asked her a couple of questions. I came through behind her and was surprised when the officer waved us on to immigration without opening a single thing!

It pays to have a glamorous wife.

Mysterious native woman on airplane:

As Alicia followed me into the airplane, an elderly woman in the second row, apparently from one of Colombia's northern tribes, grabbed her wrist. "When is your baby due?" she asked.

"I'm not pregnant!" responded Alicia.

"If you want your child to be beautiful and healthy and have no problems, eat carrots. Lots of carrots!" the lady continued.

"Okay, thank you," said Alicia.

Exit row seating (A):

I had paid extra for exit row seats, but at the Spirit desk they reassigned Alicia's seat. "She can't sit in the exit row because she doesn't speak English," the guy said. I couldn't argue with that.

Once on the plane, I was pleased to find that she was in row 10, just in front of me.  "Alicia, I'm going to try to get you back here. When the stewardess asks questions, just say 'yes' in English," I whispered. The seat next to me was empty, but the Spirit desk personnel were on the plane helping the stewardesses.

The stewardess came by to ask the usual emergency exit row questions, and a couple of minutes later, the desk personnel left the plane. I called the stewardess over. "Can my wife sit with me?" I asked.

"Sure. Does she speak English?" she asked.

"She gets by," I said.

"But is she fluent?" she asked, winking broadly.

"She gets by," I said.

Alicia came back to sit with me. The stewardess asked the exit row questions, to which Alicia responded "yes," and then the stewardess said, "Are you looking forward to visiting Florida?" 

"Yes," Alicia said. 

She told me afterward that the stewardess winked at her while she asked the question.

US airport security and my wife's assertiveness:

My wife was already on an antibiotic but woke up with a fever our travel day, so while I packed, she went to see a doctora bioenergética, something like a homeopathic doctor. Our friends picked me up and we swung by the doctor's office to pick her up. Alicia had several little bottles of injectable vitamin C and four large bottles of agua de plata (colloidal silver water). I told her to put the little bottles in a zip-lock bag with her pills, and I found safe places in the suitcases for the bigger bottles.

We had no trouble with Colombian airport security, as I already mentioned.

Ft. Lauderdale Airport was a nightmare. It's way too small to handle the traffic it has. It took over an hour to get through immigration (they were quite understanding about the missing copy of the Advance Parole, as I expected), and then another half hour to get through the massive Customs line. Alicia was sick and exhausted and hungry. I wanted to get through security before finding something to eat, so we joined yet another long line.

After we ran our bags through the belt, I put my belt and shoes back on, and was surprised to see a female TSA officer take Alicia and her backpack to one of the little inspection tables. Alicia reached out helpfully to unzip the backpack. "¡No lo toque!" the lady said. She opened the pack and pulled out Alicia's bottle of Mr. Tea and the vitamin C bottles, grimacing at Alicia and brandishing each bottle in her face, acting as if Alicia had been trying to get away with something. There was a large bottle I hadn't seen before, a dietary supplement the doctora had also prescribed. 

"Those are my medicines," Alicia said, but the lady paid no attention.  She whisked the bottles and the pack off to run through the x-ray again. She returned with a Hispanic agent, a younger girl, to serve as translator. They threw out the Mr. Tea, which was fine with Alicia. There followed a long discussion about the medications, in which Alicia explained that she had been to see the bioenergética that morning and had the prescription. They asked to see it, so she dug it out of her pack.

Finally the mean lady left, and the Hispanic girl opened the bottle of dietary supplement to do a chemical test. Alicia thanked her for her politeness and gave her quite an earful about the older lady's attitude. "She ought to be working as a prison guard. She had no right to treat me as if I were a criminal. It's one thing to be trying to do something illegal, and another to break rules that I didn't even know existed. She's seriously lacking in people skills for this job," she said. 

"That's not the first time I've heard that," the girl said. She put the cap back on the big bottle and tucked the vitamin C bottles into the zip-lock bag. "Blessings. Have a nice trip," she said as she handed back the medications.

Exit row seating (B) and masculine fragrance:

I was distressed to find that Alicia's seat to Tampa had also been changed. She sat in 13B, a couple of rows back. Someone already had the seat next to me, and a couple of minutes after we sat down, Alicia got up to let a young man take the window seat. She gave me a look and held her finger under her nose as he slid past her. 

I called back and asked him if he wanted to trade seats. "Sure!" he said.

I dug out my briefcase and scrambled into the aisle. As the young man squeezed past me, my nostrils were assailed by a horrible sweet fragrance with musky granular undertones that seemed to fill my sinuses with silt. It lingered for the whole flight.

The closest aromatic equivalent I could think of was 15 years ago when I forgot to open the flu before lighting the chimney and smoked up the living room. To try to mitigate the residual smoke odor, I sprinkled the carpet with a "deodorizing" vanilla-scented powder, and then vacuumed it back up. The smell of the powder turned out to be as unpleasant as the smoke itself.

I have posted similar pictures in the past but here's a new set.

We were in Exito the other night, where there are signs saying "No photographs". I decided to risk an international incident and capture images of the tropical fruits that were around me. Most of these are very hard to find in the US. (In case you want to compare prices, there are 1850 pesos to a dollar, and 500 grams is just over a pound.)

This one is funny because in Colombia they call prickly pear higos, a word that means 'figs' in the Spanish Bible. Other countries call them tunas or tunos. (Tuna means 'thorn' in Colombia. Tuna is atún.) Figs, on the other hand, are called brevas, and you can see them just to the right in the narrow slot. (Ignore the other fruit. I'll get to it in a minute.)

The yellow fruit below is pitahaya, 'dragonfruit' in English, which has purple insides. To the right you can see two types of curuba, the round kind and the cucumber-shaped kind. I remember the round ones from my childhood. They're a little like passion fruit (maracuyá) but the color and flavor are different.

The mangos in this photo are very small and very sweet. They cost more than regular mangoes. The starfruit is called carambolo in Colombia, carambola in Costa Rica.

Lulos are called naranjilla in Mexico. I don't know if they have an English name. They make a tangy drink.

When I was a kid, guayabas (guava) almost always had worms unless they were picked very green. Now they sell this big guayaba pera 'pear guava' variety that usually has no extra protein.

Blackberries are called moras in Spanish. When I was a kid, they grew everywhere along the roads on brambly bushes. The other fruit is tomate de árbol 'tree tomato'. They make a juice from it but I hate it.

The little yellow papa criolla potato is wonderful. They fry them whole in carts on the street. A greasy bag of salted fried potatoes... heavenly.

The traditional aguacate 'avocado' can grow as big as a person's head. These are about as big as my fist.

This variety of pineapple they call piña manzana, 'apple pineapple'. Must be the flavor. The yellow fruit is granadilla, a mild cousin of the passion fruit.

Guanábana (the green thing) has white pulp inside. They usually make it into a juice that can be good but also has undertones of vomit.

I think this melon tastes a lot like cantaloupe, but I can't remember. I don't know what the little dried fruit in the bags is. Those are coconuts on the right.

Uchuvas are tart berries, very delicious.

And out of nowhere, he throws in a steak! It was delicious. The vegetable salad was horrible. The fries were fine.

The Exito at Unicentro now has a Mimo's frozen yogurt stand. I thought you should know.

Bye. Working on a freelance translation project that is overdue.

Alicia has more godchildren than anyone else I know. I don't remember if it's 15 or 25. Probably the former. Her first godchild wasn't an official one; the nephew of her erstwhile boyfriend was abandoned by his mother and ignored by his father, essentially raised by his grandparents. So Alicia stepped in and provided nurture all through his childhood.

He's now in his 20s and has become an excellent musician. We went to hear him sing at Angus Brangus, where they have this cool fountain on the end of the building.

The restaurant is fairly new, and very classy... with the exception of the bathrooms. They have those auto-flush toilets but no toilet seats.

On the huge TP dispenser is this interesting sign: "Please do not throw paper into the bath [sic]. Thank you." It's not uncommon here for used TP to go in the trash because of inadequate plumbing.

The food was phenomenal, but I forgot to take a photo of the steak we shared. Here's the dessert: flan and postre de nata. It was quite delicious.

Hugo's band played very well. His lead guitarist played mostly on an acoustic guitar with electronic pickup, but it sounded like an electric guitar. The bassist had a cool 5-string bass. They played a mix of folk music (with modern arrangements) and pop music.

I sang along when they performed La quiero a morir. One of my favorite love songs... I sometimes sing it at the Colombian restaurant in Tampa.

(Alicia had a plain wedding band made for me so my emerald ring wouldn't get beat up.)

Hugo told us he had auditioned for La Voz Colombia (The Voice Colombia) and so far has passed his auditions. So you may see more of him in the future. Alicia's niece Sara Elisa also auditioned last week and was interviewed by the sponsoring network, which suggests that she also passed. If they make it to the show, we'll have to start eating at the Colombian restaurant in Tampa when the show's on so we can watch.