Category: Travels
Observations while wandering near and far.
Friend G. and I went to a dog-rescue fundraising event this weekend with her dog Annabelle. Ava, known as the Queen of Mean around other dogs, was not invited to attend. Mer Majesty stayed home, well attended by neighbor J. At the event, there were elegant purebreds … And hapless little mutt-pups. The woman trying to corral that rambunctious little guy is his foster mom. The pup, now 14 weeks old, came into rescue after an unconscionable jackass deliberately stomped on his leg. Abuse hasn’t stopped him from loving everybody and wanting to get into everything. (The foster mom said…
Wow. But not surprising. The ATF and the Obama administration, via Fast & Furious, supplied drug lord El Chapo with .50 cal weaponry. Zombie ships ply the ocean in hopes of paying just the interest, not the principle, on shipowners’ debt. One more place all that central bank bubble capital has been going for the last eight years. Right analysis? But completely crazy proposed solution to global bubbles. With state legislatures in session, it’s become political silly season. Most of the goofy new bills will never pass, so you can stop sending me alarming emails about junk that might not…
I like Ross Douthat. In this day of screaming absolutes he always has a nuanced take on things. But even he says that the current campus crisis is something U.S. universities deserve. And if anybody had doubts about what a bunch of whiny brats those “oppressed” university students at Mizzou are, check out their reactions to the slaughter in Paris. Whaaaaaa-waaaaa, nobody’s paying attention to US! Will the little narcissists ever feel shame? Meanwhile at Yale the social justice pecksniffs protest a free-speech panel. Australia is going to try out a hip, cool, and groovy cloud-based virtual passport system. Think…
… and how human error begets automation, which in turn increases human error. One of the most harrowing things you’ll ever read.
This weekend was the one moment of the year when a certain island full of millionaires “allows” garage sales. Once “allowed,” they do it up right.
If I were a millionaire I think I’d just give all my excess stuff to Goodwill rather than sit out in the hot sun (or rain; but this weekend it was sun) and peddle stuff for a few bux. Nevertheless, 147 households held “official” sales (there’s a map and everything, not to mention an entry fee just to get on the island) and dozens set up unofficial ones.
I have a friend who’s lived offshore for … I don’t know how long. Long time. Decades, maybe. He believes that any USSA freedomista who doesn’t quickly move off to furrin parts is doooooooomed and he plans to be shouting, “I told you so!” as various vast edifi of a collapsing state crush us into pulp.
Could be, could be.
Freedomistas who stay in the U.S. could be in as much denial as those German Jews who are cited so often today. Part of being in denial is not knowing that you are.
That’s one reason I went to Panama four years ago and Nicaragua this month. Perspective. Checking things out. (Getting to be warm in winter didn’t hurt, either.)
But I’m probably not going back. Unless something big comes along (e.g. a millionaire sweeping me off my feet and urging me to live with him forever in his seaside villa in Costa Rica — an event as likely as winning the lottery then being abducted by aliens on the way home with my multi-million dollar check) — it just ain’t happening. Reasons? Many and various.
Where? Granada, Nicaragua (as Shel guessed first, with a couple others close behind).
Nicaragua??? Yep. I was amused, and not at all surprised, that nobody even mentioned Nicaragua as a possibility until I gave those hints. After all, isn’t Nicaragua the land of Sandinistas and Contras? Isn’t it a socialist country? Isn’t it the place where former revolutionary Daniel Ortega has more recently done what all former revolutionaries do when they gain political power — declare the official language of the country to be Swedish declare himself presidente for life. (Well, effectively so) and plaster the country with his own “heroic” face?
(I didn’t get a chance to photograph the 2014 version of this billboard. Had to copy this one online, but rest assured the current ones are similar and even more grandiose.)
Yes, it’s all that. But …
I’m not there any more. If all’s gone well, I’m on my way home as you read this. So it’s time to reveal the Secret Location. Or rather, it’s time to start by giving some better hints than I’ve offered so far. A prize will be offered to the first person who names both the country and the city where I stayed. Hint 1 is a photo you’ve already seen. It was the first photo I posted on my travels, in fact. I didn’t realize it at the time, but to anybody who knows this part of the world, that…