Mexican life

The rooster

I WAS LIGHTING incense with a stove torch in the living room yesterday, standing next to this. The sunlight from the big window was doing a swell job of illuminating.

I took a photo.

Cockfighting is alive and well in Mexico. You see fighting birds quite often while you’re out and about. Not fighting, but you see them, mostly in little roadside cages.

Or guys with cowboy hats and mustaches carrying them down the sidewalk or in the rear of pickup trucks.

I’ve been to a cockfight once, but it was in Puerto Rico 40 years ago. Don’t recall much about it. I likely was not sober. I do remember the covered arena, but not the fight itself.

I’ve also been to a bullfight once. That was in the Plaza México in Mexico City. As with the cockfight, once was enough. I have nothing against cockfights, however. Bullfights either.*

Chickens are dumb as rocks, and cattle suffer far more in slaughterhouses around the world. Toros in bullfights actually get a pretty good shake, as shakes go.

But the rooster theme is quite common in Mexico. In addition to this artwork of papier-mâché, you’ll see other roosters in the Hacienda. Lots of skeletons too.

* * * *

* Never been to a dogfight. That would bother me.

10 thoughts on “The rooster

    1. Angeline: Thanks. I jiggled the colors just a little bit, but that’s mostly how it came straight from the camera. As for bullfights, I think it’s a shame that the tradition is dying away, even being outlawed in some places. The Plaza México, for example, which used to be jammed packed, is now mostly empty on fight days.

      Of course, many people welcome that. Not me.

      One change I welcome is that decades back the horses really got abused. That’s been greatly reduced by putting them in padding. That’s the case in the major fights. Perhaps not in fights out in the boonies. I don’t know about that.

      In any event, we don’t live in a perfect world.

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  1. Before I got sick, I used to keep chickens in the back yard. My wife never understood about chicken love. She thought that the rooster was a perverted sex maniac. He offended her feminist nature. She hated him. She finally bribed the guys that do my trees and lawn to take him. I suspect he had an unfortunate encounter with some red chili that night. I miss his crowing. He kept the neighborhood cats out of the yard. Rest in peace, gallo.

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    1. Señor Gill: You are one weird dude. I’m on your wife’s side.

      Chickens are, as I already mentioned, dumb as rocks. They make bunnies look intelligent, and that’s saying something.

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  2. Are there still bullfights in Mexico? I’d love to see one. I’ve read “Death in the Afternoon,” which is more than anyone needs to know about them. Only time Papa ever got too “wordy.”

    I concur on dogs. Too fond of them.

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    1. Ray: Yes, bullfighting still goes on down here. It is an interesting thing to see, and I surely don’t regret my one visit, but once was enough. I would have liked to see it during its heyday. My wife went to a bullfight in a huge arena in Madrid in the 1990s. She was in Spain six months studying. She doesn’t remember much of the bullfights because she was so busy looking at the people, which she found exceptionally interesting.

      “Death in the Afternoon” was written when Hemingway was relatively young. I read it and thought it was quite amateurish. It’s certainly not his best work at all. “Wordy” is being kind.

      Our downtown casita here was built by a bullfighter. He did housing developments on the side. He was, perhaps still is, relatively well-known. Once we were walking down a sidewalk in the state capital and noticed one of those big bullfighting posters on a wall. He was one of the matadors listed. He was a cocky little fellow, short, and had quite a number of visible scars. I told him I thought he was nuts. He just chuckled.

      As for dogfights, one should be nice to man’s best friend.

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