Dios and doctors

church

I’M SITTING ON a hard pew in the main cathedral of the state capital. Instead of praying or even reading the Bible, I’m waiting and occasionally reading Donald Rumsfeld’s memoirs on my Kindle. That fellow in the pew ahead of me is probably praying enough for the both of us.

God and doctors. That’s the theme for today. God because, well, look where I am, surrounded by religious trappings as only the Catholics can do it. I enjoy sitting here. Wish I had a cushion, however, for my skinny butt. Doctors, because my wife is visiting one right now.

Allow me to rub it in some more, to those of you who live outside Mexico, poor darlings, trapped by “free,” socialist, medical schemes in both Canada and, now, Barry’s America.

My child bride was unfortunate enough to have two medical crises at the same time, neither life-threatening but both physically unpleasant. It began on Monday, so we phoned Specialist No. 1 in the nearby state capital and easily made an appointment for the following day at 10 a.m.

Monday night, problem No. 2 erupted, so as we were driving to the state capital Tuesday morning, we phoned Specialist No. 2 and easily made an appointment for 11:30, 90 minutes later.

Can you do that where you live? Heck no.

While she was at the office of Specialist No. 1, I walked the four blocks to this cathedral. Yes, I’m not actually sitting there at this moment. Luckily, she finished in time for us to drive to Specialist No. 2, whose office is in the annex of the Star Médica hospital, a great Mexican chain.

Both issues were handily resolved, and we paid the reasonable charges in cash.

And that, mis amigos, is how health care should be handled.

Efficiently, intelligently, affordably.

President Paul?

RAND PAUL is kicking off his presidential campaign tomorrow, though it looks like he’s already done it.

America could do worse, is already doing far worse.

Sure, Paul’s daddy is a kook, but let’s assume the fruit has fallen far enough from the tree. Rand has exhibited some kookiness of his own in the past, particularly in the area of foreign affairs. Isolationism’s time has passed, but Rand seems to have cooled on that stance, thank God.

Which brings me to one of his most attractive features: He’s not thumping the Bible. Even my boy Ted Cruz’s first campaign video was chockablock with Bible talk.

And Ben Carson? Lordy.

Now I have absolutely nothing against the Christian tradition — quite the contrary — but I want a candidate who keeps it to himself for the most part. We live, alas, in increasingly secular times, and the Church Lady talk turns off too many “independents” these days.

It’s time for practicality, time to send Democrats packing.

Now that things are warming with Communist Cuba, maybe we can ship them all to Havana. They think they would like it down there. But they wouldn’t.

Arch and post

house

SITTING ON THE floor of the living room this morning, camera in hand, nothing better to do at the moment, I took this shot, an angle I’d never considered before.

What inspired me was the absence of something, a vine from a hanging pot, something that had lived in that corner, dangling from a ceiling beam for over a decade, covering — due to supports — much of that brick archway in one direction and down to the carved-wood post in another.

Yesterday, weary of watering it every weekend, and often having to duck under it, I cut the whole shebang down. I wonder how long it will be before my wife notices. It’s funny how the absence of things can go unseen.

It’s much better now, a cleaner look.

About a week after we moved into the Hacienda in 2003, we invited a bunch of folks over for a housewarming fiesta. One invitee brought a friend, an architect, who was visiting from above the Rio Bravo. The architect took a look at that brick archway and said it would be very difficult to find anyone in the United States capable of constructing such a thing these days.

It was done by hand, using no power tools.

The carved wood base was hand done at a nearby village that focuses on such work. It was my wife’s idea, as was the archway separating the kitchen-dining room from the living room.

She has good ideas.*

* * * *

* The best of which was marrying me.

(Note: The potted, raggedy plant is visible in this old shot.)

Fact, Fiction and Opinion Stirred in an Odd Pot

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