you never cease to amaze me
i don’t use that phrase often
and if you’re not, you’re on your way.

don’t make me say…
don’t make me say…
don’t make me stay away.

you brighten up anyone’s day.
don’t make me say…
don’t make me say.

little good it does my soul
to see you walk past my door
a delta your march coordinates on a separate plane
yet i still smile as I see you on your way
don’t make me say…
don’t make me say…
don’t make me stay away.

i wait for you to come closer
and then perhaps we can find our own ways
but till then, find a way
i’ll even pay…

but don’t make me say.
don’t make me say.
don’t make me say.

If you’re like many of us who call Miami home, odds are at least two of the following three things are true:

1. You were not born here.
2. There is Florida, a beautiful representation of the United States of America and then there is Miami, which has its own cultural signature separate from the rest of the nation, and then you return to Florida as soon as you enter Monroe County.  There’s no passport required, despite what those who live north of Miami-Dade county or in the Conch Republic may want to claim.
3. Miami is full of great places to eat.

In my case, all of the above apply.  However, despite moving to Miami in 1997 I can still claim that I don’t know my adopted hometown that well.  Sure, I can ride Miami-Dade Transit like a pro – even tell you with full confidence how not to use Metrobus and Metrorail,,. I can even tell you about little known gems, such as Schnebly Redland’s Winery and not so hidden gems like the Metrozoo.  At the same time, I can make some crazy claims like “I’ve lived here for 12 years without a car!” and “I do appreciate that Miami-Dade County – despite its speckled past – is a decent place to live if you know where (and how) to live.

This portion of my blog is about my on-going discovery of Miami-Dade County.  I didn’t say Miami because for most of the world, Miami starts and ends east of the Julia Tuttle causeway, with some (coincidental) destinations east of the Everglades and north of Key Largo.

It is possible to be a tourist in your own hometown… In a way, I will always be.  Miami is vibrant and ever changing.  Some of this changes are for the best, some, not that much; but one thing is true: Miami is eclectic, and – at least for me – Miami is home.

By now most everyone has found out about the present administration’s decision to change the way how we deal with Cuba.  There are some that would argue that the embargo placed by President Kennedy is stifling to the nation-island, but if that here are a few interesting points that most people do not consider when attempting to prove their point:

• Past the American embargo, most (if not the rest) of the world allows unrestricted relations with Cuba.  In fact, Cuba is a popular vacation destination and many nations (including both of our neighbors – Canada and Mexico) have active economic trade with it.  Despite this fact, the majority of Cubans live in abject poverty with stifled opportunities to progress (unless, of course, they decided to become obedient to  “The Revolution”.)
• While Cuba may boast of its great infrastructures, the quality of life is (at best) substandard.  Even if you were to feign loyalty to the ongoing regime, the reality would still strike you in the face: just try driving on the wonderfully paved streets of La Havana.  (Sarcasm, folks; really.)
• The list continues, but honestly, I want to keep this post short.

In all fairness, this new change was to be expected;  President Obama’s stance has been nothing short of being an obvious turn to the left.  In his desire to appease a promising voter base, our new stance on Cuba imposes certain problems that will plague us for years to come, some of them which will be evident in the near future.  Some would argue that Cuba is not an ally to the surging Russian posturing in Latin America; such logic demonstrates sophistry, regardless who it comes from, be it a diplomat, scholar, or political strategist.

But what does all this have to do with Senator Mel Martinez (R, FL)?  Plenty.

Senator Martinez is quoted by a Central Florida radio station yesterday afternoon saying that the policy change “…is good news for Cuban families separated by a lack of freedom in Cuba.”  While one is sympathetic with the reality that has been nothing but a strain to Cuban-based families, how does he reconcile the fact that we are now going to give Cuba a greater amount funds?  In the same interview, he acknowledges that there should be limits on how much can be given to Cuban family members, but how does that help?  Its tantamount to telling a bully “hey, punch him all you want, just don’t knock out his teeth.”

Truth be told, I can’t speak in the interest of any Cuban, exiled or resident, since my Hispanic heritage comes from another part of Latin America, but as a citizen who is really concerned about how we are sleeping on the wheel while the rest of Latin American is falling under the influence of the Chinese and Russians, I expect much better from Senator Martinez.  A lot of his fellow expatriates are making significant sacrifices and for him to undermine their efforts by assuaging their yearning to reconnect with family is irresponsible.   Instead of following a flawed ideology, why not be the leader that you are supposed to be?

It may be true that you do not intend to run for office next year, but regardless, you are a United States Senator and as such, a leader to your constituents and especially to your fellow Cuban-Americans, or did you forget that?

Senator, perhaps you should just resign and let us follow someone else, someone who has the ideals of a free and democratic Cuba in mind.

As a fetus, we move to the forces of natures
tethered on our mother’s umbilical cord:
wince left, shift right.

We are born and given even more stimulus
and we move even more:
our reflexes tested, our heads lifted for milk.

Down the road, our senses are lobbied and mandated.
Want some candy?  Get your ass over here!
Come here, sexy.  Yes, you, babe.

And so we continue moving, whether we want to or not.

And then one day, as fate works on us, something occurs;
you fall, misstep, are roughed up.
All of a sudden, you can’t move as well as could minutes ago;
this is when you really miss moving the most.

This is when ingenuity becomes the creme that rises to the top.

In pain, I defy my muscular disaster:
I slither down my dressed bed, until my knees hit my cold tiled floor.
My knees become pivot points and I manage to spin 180 degrees;
I try to get up, yet I fall.
Was there any blood? No.  Then here we go.

For a moment I’m reduced to crawling on my knees;
it’s fun to think that I once did this much more graciously.
Left, right, left, right; from my room to the kitchen.
Now I can appreciate why Mom always swept the floors constantly.

And before you know it, I’ve arrived to where I wanted to go.

Believe it or not, I was proud of that accomplishment.
Even when your own body tells you that you can’t,
your brain and willpower in the end directs the show.

Days later, I’m back on my feet; hobbling left, moving slightly faster than before.
Oh, but I move, and I will move others again;
and long after I am gone, even after the these words disappear,
something I do today will move others tomorrow.

Movement is all about willpower.
We are intricate machines, but we remain useless without guidance.
Willpower is a form of guidance.  I will not be left offline.
I will not be left strewn on the floor.

I will power my move.  Now move!

The flavor of Granny Smith apples
My taste buds brought to attention by the watercress in my salad
The sting of wasabi mixed with my double black soy

The prose of a Shakespeare comedy
The intent in the command voice of a drill instructor
A mother’s imperative remark to her pestering child

The perfect application of white in a field of black
The air-shattering effect from the firing of a high-powered rifle
The first and second beats of a drum roll

The logic in a well written constitution
The perfect delivery of a message
The implicit effects of bulletproof code

Hearing you break my monotony with a simple hello
Your stern look when I’m caught self-deprecating
Watching you come toward me when you could go elsewhere

All the crispness that make my life even more pleasant

Here are a few observations and thoughts hours away from high noon, 20 January 2009 – what will be the beginning of a new American executive quadrennial period.

1. For many liberals and emotive secular progressives, America is suddenly deserving of their admiration and pride.

For conservatives and American traditionalists, this country has always been admirable and deserving of unmitigated loyalty.

2. All of those who swore that they would move elsewhere after the election of George W. Bush in 2000 and 2004 no longer seem to want to be expatriated.

Those of us who worry and oppose the oncoming socialist implementation that has been promoted by Mr. Obama throughout his campaign will remain here to watch and actively oppose his less-than-favorable initiatives, whichever they may be.

3. In the months after the election, many marketers substituted some form of active civics where there was once contempt and ridicule for the chief executive of the United States; conservatives and most traditionalists have always displayed some form of civic awareness and action.

4. It is becoming all too apparent that the oncoming administration will attempt to defy the laws of economics to take us out our present economic reality. Given an option, the last thing most of the political right will do is embrace the oncoming mass welfare proposed by Mr. Obama and his ilk.

5. In the midst of a lack of mass appeal, celebrities and progressives thank God others are willing to be in the armed service of the United States. Most of their political counterparts have no hesitation to be those who will serve in said service.

5a. Members of the Obama administration, including chief-of-staff Rahm Emanuel have noted an active interest in the implementation of some form of required “common national service”, a concept that is very close to conscription. Ironically, the last two presidents who initiated drafts were democrats; but no worries: people eventually blame republicans and the right for those kind of tactics. Go ask Nixon. Oh wait: too late.

And now for something completely different: the french word for “left” is “gauche”.

N’être pas gauche. Don’t be gauche.

Standing in bloom amongst your peers
sharing the same common descriptor,
yet holding your own.

You are part of this composition in which we all belong,
yet you are so much different from the rest.
In your own beauty you defy being known as just another shiny pebble:
you are the brightest gem of the lot.

Everything grows in this city by the ocean: exotic and intoxicating creatures of great magnitude,
yet the most amazing creation in these parts is not native;
she hails from the other coast of our great land,
and has traveled great distances to land here.

By some miracle I just happen to find myself near your radience:
the aroma of your bloom is nothing less than tantilizing.
I just feel grateful that I can witness you,
even more blessed for having you in my life.

The proverbial bird has been released
And the missing has since begun…
I pass by her street and all I can sense is my missing her even more.

I hope all the bards were correct in their assertion that the bird to whom I gave my heart might perchance return.
Soundtracks are best played to a great Hollywood production: to the one you cherish the most.

As for all the things I have told her, all I know is that they will somehow always be true.
Even though the sun orbits light years away from my perch on Earth, I still manage to feel her warmth;
but truth be told, I would much rather burn up with her than barely float alone.

Ah, to be blinded by the lights of a picture show;
the pleasure of wanting to see more and more…

Alas, I hope I will be able to once again.

I will admit that I am somewhat of an anglophile… I love many things about Great Britain: its food, traditions, military history, and to an extent its politics.  I have always wanted to go during the summer to attend the Last Night of the Proms and be part of the massive audience enjoying and perhaps even singing along with the BBC Orchestra and Chorus…

Anyhow, today I was looking for music to listen to while I was working on my latest venture when all of a sudden I bumped into this golden nugget:

Isn’t it amazing how the fervour of the audience is transmitted through the video?  The beauty of it is that I assure you that there are all sorts of people there with there different views on a plethora of issues, yet they still get together and sing… It’s beautiful!  And Sir Roger Norrington is on point about what music is.  It’s why I joined a musical fraternity; its why I had little reservations about joining a marching band at age 27.  Music is a universal language and truly the greatest of the arts.  That sounds awfully familiar…

There’s nothing like an organ surge on the last musical phrases of a wonderful piece!  I always wanted to see a graduation here in the States where the complete last portion of Pomp and Circumstances

Just in case you enjoyed Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance, here’s the rest of that final segment of the Last Night of the Proms, 2008.

Who knows, perhaps the BBC might still have a fighting chance as the jewel of culture I remember it being ages ago

Rule Brittania! (Bryn Terfel was especially awesome singing in Welsh!)

God Save the Queen!