Take Care of Your Chicken

Not one given to speeches, famous for attending a media event and saying “I’m only here so I won’t get fined,” Marshawn Lynch, running back for the Seattle Seahawks, shared valuable words of wisdom, following the Hawks loss to the Green Bay Packers in Wisconsin on January 12, 2020.

“This is a vulnerable time for a lot of these young dudes. You feel me? They don’t be taking care of their chicken right, you feel me? So, if they was me, or if I had the opportunity to let these little young [players] know somethin’, I say take care of your money, African, ’cause that shit don’t last forever.”

Marshawn Lynch

Retired at 33, Lynch was called back by the Seahawks in an attempt to help regroup after several devastating injuries left the team sadly unprepared for the playoffs. It also raised hopes and spirit for fans. Though they didn’t make it to the Super Bowl and we don’t know if 24 will be back again next season, this we do know: Marshawn Lynch is a man of few words but he definitely knows what he’s talking about when he expresses himself. Lynch is well-loved by his teammates and fans. His sense of humor and respect give him an edge that we don’t see enough of in the NFL. 

In this clip posted on January 9 to his Instagram account, Lynch is seen joking with another veteran who also returned to the Seahawks in a time of need, Robert Turbin. The two old men purposefully seat fellow Seahawk/cornerback Tre Flowers between them and Lynch gives Flowers a humorous preamble to the chicken speech he would give after the Green Bay loss. Consider that Flowers was signed by the Seahawks to a 4-year, $2.75 million contract with a signing bonus of $298,729. It’s good to hear from Uncle Beastmode about how to take care of your chicken. Seeing that Flowers graduated from Oklahoma State with a degree in management, he's probably inclined to listen.

I get the chicken story in a way that I have one of my own. About twenty years ago, I had the honor of giving a ride home to the grandmother of a young man, César, who was at the time, in my employ. This was in Mexico and his Abuelita lived high in the mountains of Nayarit. I had a 4-wheel truck and nothing else to do; it was off-season, summer. César drove, as he knew the way and the terrain. I sat in the tiny jump seat in the back and hung out the window, as far as possible in the humid September heat. We crossed the same river four times, as it wound down the mountains, and at each crossing, minus a bridge, we watched for crocodiles. Never saw one, but the point would’ve been to not run them over.

César

A day spent in a tiny village with no electricity or indoor plumbing, grandmother’s stove a hand-hewn clay oven that stretched up through the ceiling, and the ubiquitous chickens wandering in one end of the house and out the other, with the prized pet rooster, pictured here, was an honorable time for me. Not many are invited in and hosted as I was that special day.

Abuelita's Prized Rooster

A couple weeks later, César showed up at my condo in Puerto Vallarta with this lovely resin chicken. He cheerfully explained his grandmother’s gratitude for the ride. Not only had we delivered her back to her village, we brought with us months of supplies, packed into the bed of my truck. We also had coolers full of freshly caught fish, some of which we feasted on that afternoon, the rest to be dried and smoked. 

The live chicken the grandmother had gifted to me would not go over well in an urban condominium complex in downtown Puerto Vallarta but I was blessed with a replica to remind me of that day. Though it was over twenty years ago, the chicken is still with me, guarding my entry, with my trusty golfing monkey, who has seen better days.

The Chicken and The Monkey

How is this all related to a running back with the Seattle Seahawks? As I grow older, the importance of planning my future taps on my shoulder every day. I have been very lucky. I didn’t always take the best care of my chicken, not just once in my life; living lavishly, not deeply feeling true gratitude for gifts given, both physical and otherwise, not committing myself to causes that make a difference in a diminishing world, not acknowledging how important it is to look after others, though they have no way of giving back. 

The chicken represents all these things and unless we closely listen to the messenger, we are likely to miss the message.

 Thanks for reading. 

Adam Garcia 4 12016

Clothing Not Optional

Amazingly, we see tourists in Puerto Vallarta in grocery stores and shopping malls wandering around in bikinis! Aside from being cold, some are simply not easy on the eye. We can say the same thing about fellows walking down streets (that are not located on or even near the beach) wearing those teeny tiny revealing swimsuits. Leaving nothing to the imagination is not a normal Mexican practice.

Mexican men may pull up their t-shirt on very hot days, exposing their tummies (certainly not attractive, and slightly offensive) but they will not go around the streets shirtless. The beach boys, surfers and fishermen wear shirts and would never dream of parading around in a speedo.

Mexicans take service very seriously and, unless one is in a fine dining establishment, it is unlikely they would ask someone to cover up, but they aren’t amused and will have some trouble communicating with a skimpily dressed customer.

Mexico is primarily a Catholic country. Until recently, women wouldn’t go into a church without a head covering and older ladies still insist on wearing a mantilla on their head. They will openly stare in disdain at young ladies who have no modesty.

Recently we saw a young man asked to leave a beach restaurant. He was treated with respect and no one made a scene but it was also clear that a muscle shirt was not proper attire, no matter how close the ocean.

As visitors, it is our job to be respectful. We can still have a good time. After all, Mexicans are not quiet. They are very colorful and love to enjoy themselves. One glimpse of a holiday calendar leaves no doubt for their penchant to party. But let’s please not offend the locals while we are at it.

There are constant changes in Puerto Vallarta; some good and some to which we need to make adjustments. This is a simple change and it can be made in the dressing room. I’ll cover for you and you can cover for me.

This article first appeared in May 2018 Boardwalk Realty PV

Thanks for reading.

Puerto Vallarta - Never Enough Time

Ahhhh, Mexico. How does the song go? Many songs about Mexico and they are all about wanting to go.

Shopper's Paradise

Colorful Bracelets

Los Arcos

Two weeks is just not enough, but I did have a chance to see some of my good friends; missed some who are always too busy in high season, making enough money to get them through low season; met some very likeable dogs; got a chance to spend a day at the Botanical Gardens; and visited one place I’d never been, Litibu. Though I'd driven by Litibu, this was my first time stopping.

Music - Lots and lots of music

Two events for the benefit of the animals had some great music, company (familiar faces, some I hadn’t seen in over a decade), and great food (the SPCA event was catered entirely vegan.)

Mi casa es su casa

Got my taxes paid and hired José, our wonderful Mozo at the condo complex, to do some painting and repairs. The place is ready to rent now at approx $7000 pesos/month. 

Kitchen

Master Bedroom

My dear longtime friends Michael and Greg took me to lunch at El Patron, a place I highly recommend for food, service, and atmosphere; dedicated Mexican environment. So good to see old friends and catch up.

Guacamole at El Patron

June and I had as many tête-à-têtes as we could fit in, everywhere from the beach at Cuates y Cuetes to my neighborhood’s Lukumbe. I sadly didn’t get to see her granddaughter Luna, a precious baby girl with a big personality, according to photos and her doting grandmother. 

Iguana

Fit in one card game at the beach where Cassandra and I partnered up to whip Candace and Savannah in a round of Canasta. Candace got me back later. Attended a gathering of Women and Friends of Women, the same day a global march took place on January 21. Walked one day from the Sheraton to Zona Romantica.

Women's Gathering

One great day spent riding out to Sayulita with Candace Shaw. We had a lovely visit with Tracie Willis and saw the new work/second story addition to ChocoBanana. Then we trundled off down the back way towards Punta de Mita. Got off road and raised dust looking for the Litibu Grill. The waves at the beach were impressive, and we were told they’d been up to 18 feet the day before. Had more guacamole (I ate a lot this trip because when Twit calls for his stupid tariffs on Mexican goods, my avocado intake is going to be limited.) 

Litibu

Grilled Veggies at Litibu

More Guac - Litibu

Candace and I had a sweet little rescue with us, Odie, on his way to Vancouver that evening and his furever home. Candace needed copies of his papers and on a Sunday there were no copy shops open so we stopped in Bucerias at Casa Tranquila to see if the ladies had a copier we could borrow. Joann and Patricia are really good for the ego. I was overwhelmingly welcomed, hugged and helloed. I love those two, and they were able to accommodate our paper needs, as well.

Odie and Me

Odie on his way............

The Botanical Gardens with Kathy was a perfect day. We spent hours and trotted all over the grounds, making a special visit to the chapel, having lunch in the restaurant and taking copious photos of flowers and birds. Kathy’s attempt to film a flock of green parakeets with her phone camera kept us busy. 

Here's my Heart in Puerto Vallarta

View from the Chapel

Chapel at the Gardens

Puerto Vallarta Botanical Gardens

Got my teeth cleaned, at $500 pesos. That’s $24 US dollars. And just as good a job as you will get anywhere north of the border. Teeth-cleaning is done by the dentist, so you’re with a highly qualified person. Had a pedicure/manicure at Toya’s that took over an hour; you cannot find the likes of this service anywhere in Seattle, no matter how much you pay.

I’m grateful for help from Kathy Lowther, who was my voice getting some things done that would have been more complicated with my limited Spanish; Kathy was also a great nurse when my clingy cough persisted and very generous with her Bio-magnetism, which could have been the right amount of healing I needed; Lety Benitez, who is an invaluable amiga; Jamie Coates and Saskia Guel, who have taken care of important issues in my absence; Chantel for fixing my bracelet…I love it, Chantel, thank you!

Thanks for reading.........

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April 16, 2016 "For today’s prompt, write a poem about (or at) a food establishment."

The Taco Stand by Farmacia Guadalajara

 

open late afternoon

with guarantee of

customers,

taco stand

next to brightly lit

pharmacy comes to life

with scented smoke and

the sounds of knives

chop

chop

chop

onions cilantro radishes more onions.

one gringo patiently stands

in line, listens intently to orders given

in a foreign tongue, trying to make

sure he gets what others are having.

juicy meat and trimmings on the

half shell

so to speak .

lean over slightly to

grab a bite

red sauce

green sauce

and some sweet white

horchata

to wash it down.

por favor.

***********

Gracias por leer......

April 12, 2010 SAYULITA

Robert's post this morning: "For today's prompt, pick a city, make that the title of your poem, and write a poem. Your poem can praise or belittle the city. Your poem could be about the city or about the people of the city. Your poem could even have seemingly nothing to do with the city. But the simple act of picking a city will set the mood (to a certain degree), so choose wisely."



Sayulita

I have forgotten
The black shiny sand stuck to my bare feet
Always came home with me
Ending up on my shower floor day after day.
Mosquitoes attacking me
When the sun went down and
In the early damp bittersweet morning.
“Your blood so sweet,” you said.
It was long ago and so I have forgotten
You,
Unsaddling the horses
After a long day;
The pungent scent of their toiling sweat,
How they swayed,
Neighed;
Your tender care to every detail
Without a notion of the time.
Cicadas screamed in the jungle
As you sang in your strident voice
A song about “Only Once.”
The yellow flame of candles
Flickering under the smudged glass of hurricane lamps.
But this, too…I have forgotten.
Dusty streets and rutted roads
Rusting buses rumbling through the town,
Never early, never late.
Old men playing dominoes in shaded doorways;
ClickClackClickClack
As their knobby fingers shuffled tiles.
Vendors in the square
With sleeping babies in blankets strung from palm to palm;
Children sucking on tied plastic bags full of flavored water,
Sticky;
Bees buzzing
Around tacos stands;
The odor of sizzling chicken, roasting pork,
Chiles, cilantro.
Ice cold Modelo. In a can.
“You wanna beer?” you would say.
This…
Before the surfers took over.
Just the brown skinned local boys
Out on the waves, bobbing, fingers fluttering
Waiting for an early morning curl;
Gone by afternoon to jobs that required white shirts,
Leaving the ocean empty with nothing but diving pelicans.
Before the realtors came and brought internet
And cash machines,
Paved roads, bridges, rich women.
Since I have forgotten,
I can accept with no regret that
Time erases memory,
Closes wounds and doors,
So that I no longer recall your
Big laugh and your little laugh,
Your childish jokes,
Your cousin’s house,
Your sister’s café,
The street in your father’s name: your name.
Our long drives over the mountain,
To and from,
From and to.
But it no longer matters,
For Sayulita has changed...
And I no longer remember.

The Party

I was very happy to spend the day of my 60th birthday on a rooftop overlooking the ocean, dipping in the pool and playing cards, looking forward to strolling next door at sunset to join a group of friends for a celebratory dinner at one of my favorite beach restaurants. It would have been quite satisfying. I just didn’t expect too much, having made it clear that low-key was the operative word for this year’s commemoration.

My good friend Candace picked me up shortly before noon and with a bit of frustration, explained the errands she had to run before we could get to our first destination: the pool and card table. I told her it was fine with me, we had the whole day ahead of us. We drove out the coast highway and came to a lovely cliff-side villa, where she encouraged me to follow her while she conducted her business. My first inclination was to feel like an intruder, when we ran into a couple who were purportedly guests of whom we were disturbing. They nodded curtly as they gave us their permission to enter, then disappeared. We wandered down a grand staircase into the foyer and living room, with a sweeping view of the ocean and famous volcanic rocks Los Arcos.

There was a woman in the pool; her back turned, taking in the scenery. She looked vaguely familiar but then at my age, many people do.

We wandered into the kitchen area and dining room, me following Candace obediently. She had requested margaritas, which I thought was a little cheeky and even cheekier still for me to ask if maybe we could get them to go. Candace was the one complaining that all this running around was cutting into our card playing time. As we waited for our margaritas to be mixed, we wandered in the direction of the pool.

The woman who I had glanced at moments before seemed much more familiar to me and I stared at her, trying to understand what my good friend Shawn was doing there. She stared up at me and I stared back at her. Candace pulled her dress over her head to reveal a swimsuit and dove into the water.

Maybe my eyes popped out, perhaps my jaw dropped; I don’t recall but just then Shawn said Surprise! Happy Birthday!
What are you doing here? I asked.

I still wasn’t totally getting it.
It took me a while to get my bearings. I didn’t really understand at first until it dawned on me what my friends had done.

The guests, Patti and Gary, who we’d disturbed on our way in, turned out to be Shawn’s friends, visiting from California. They were great actors, playing up the disgruntled vacationers. I wasn’t expecting Shawn to attend my birthday at all, since it was her husband Greg’s birthday as well and he was flying in that day. The foursome had planned to spend that night in Yelapa, down the coast and only attainable by boat. Or so I thought. Greg was not privy to the plans, either, so there were more surprises in store for the day.

At some point, I watched tables being set and nosily counted the place settings. Twenty-four people would be joining us for dinner.

We swam. Played cards. Moved everything inside when the skies opened up. Relaxed. Read. I never really got over my astonishment. In our well appointed rooms, we freshened up and dressed for the arrival of others.

At the appointed hour, they began to drift in. I was overwhelmed by the generosity of my friends. We ate and drank for what seemed like hours. The food was divine. The company was delightful. When the evening ended long past the midnight hour, I retired to my room in this lovely villa and slept like a lamb, only to be awakened in the morning by a knock at the door and a breakfast tray. We didn’t leave Villa Luna Creciente until past 7 p.m., the whole day spent in absolute bliss. I cannot thank my friends and family enough for making this possible. Like a dream come true.

And reflections on turning 60?
It was more than I could have realized. More on that later. I promise.

Thanks for reading.

http://www.villalunacreciente.com/