Unfortunately for Lauren, living in such close proximity to me puts her in close proximity to my repertoire of five jokes (roughly estimated). Sure these jokes evolve over geological timescales, but their fundamental content and, in my opinion, knee-slapping comedic genius remains perturbingly steady. In fact, little did you suspect you have already been subject to one in the title of this blog! It is the practice of taking a noun, verb, adjective or adverb (or I suppose an entire adverbial clause) and repeating it twice over. The first time round you annex an "-y" or "-ie" suffix. On the second repetition you add the prefix "Mc-" to the original word (or a slight variation thereof) and then finish off by placing the suffix "-sons" at the very end. So one may have a raucous breakfast of flap jacks referring to them all the while as "pancakey mccakersons." Or suppose some offending dog has trespassed the threshold of our inner sanctum. It may be shooed away using, "Hey! Quitate! Snoopy mcsnoopersons." Some various grammatical substitutions do apply such as in the case "stupidie mcstupersons," but I am working on a multi-volume guide to the subtleties of this timelessly classic jokey mcjokersons.
Rules of the house also require some explanation. Our in-home security program involves various spheres and levels. In our immediate perimeter, namely the space we typically visually observe from the inner sanctum or patio, we permit just about anyone or anything. I say "just about" because peeing male dogs and venomous snakes are not permitted in our immediate perimeter. I claim our patio is a wrap-around veranda because if you balance carefully on the foot-wide piece of cement plancha that extends the foundation of our house inspecting the side wall for scorpions and garden section for snakes, you can easily make it to the back without mortal injury. Dogs deemed friendly are permitted in all patio areas, but your security clearance is revoked if you begin to fight or roll in the flowers and a harsh, "Hey! Quitate! Dañary mcdañarisons" is inevitably coming your way. (If you didn't get that last little bit, not to worry, more on that later). Children are permitted to pass the patio and enter the inner sanctum. Should you fail to take off your shoes or begin touching and handling everything (toothbrushes especially) with your dirty hands later announcing you have a fever, you risk being excluded from any forthcoming presentation of juice, popcorn or other snack. Dogs are rarely permitted in the inner sanctum. Our Lordess Empress Princess Ruler, Goma the Cat, is of course permitted in the inner sanctum and patio, but strongly discouraged under penalty of Lauren carrying her back inside to broach the immediate perimeter. Lauren is developing a motion to create another secure zone called simply "the bed inside our mosquitero" and proposes excluding me from it because it turns out my side is toxically foul-smelling. Gosh, I guess I am just a sweaty mcsweatersons in the jungle heat! Our Lordess Empress Princess Ruler, Goma the Cat, will of course be permitted in this future zone.
The official language of our home is Spanglish in all its beauty and affront to both respectable tongues of English and Spanish. We conjugate Spanish verbs in English; a prime example of this being "regalaring" as in, "I heard he is regalaring yuca." We inexplicably terminate English sentences in Spanish; for instance, "The pipe route had to be changed to the other side of the rock porque, bueno... hay que hacerlo." This practice affords excellent communication among the two of us, but I fear will affect our transition back to the states dearly.
I don't think there is a topic Lauren and I haven't talked about. Sure there are comfort topics like our future Vanagon/toaster van plans and how Lauren is, "gonna get a German Shepard puppy and feed it raw meat," but as the old saying goes, when life gives you lemons you are gonna have to talk about 'em! World hunger, water rights, speculation on sexual habits of our campesino neighbors, theories on kindness and justice and progress, rants about environmental degradation and overpopulation, plans for haircuts, tragedies of child soldiering and trafficking, drug movement through South and Central America, stochastic programming, gender roles, religion, minimalism, pop culture and freedom float through the conversation in the inner sanctum and on the patio. Those walls have seen our best joys and our worst attitudes. Inside we have changed and stayed the same, reflecting on both prospects. Cooking, washing dishes, washing clothes and then cooking, washing dishes and rewashing the same clothes. Rarely can we decide what to eat for breakfast in less than twenty minutes. We listen to, play and write music. We sing and dance and dodge the widows naked after showering because everyone can see in! Our campo home is one of the happiest places on earth for me and I think Lauren likes it too...as long as it is swept and organized.
Although it has its secrets which you may never know (such as the high level of accuracy to which I impersonate Marc Antony's performance on the music video for "Vivir Mi Vida"), after reading this blog, you kind of get the gisty mcgistersons.
Love,
Alex
No comments:
Post a Comment