Mama’s new look

THE MOON gotta facelift yesterday, and you’re looking at it.

It’s not the first time she’s changed her dress since debuting in 2011, but it’s the first time in a goodly spell, long overdue. And her predecessor, The Zapata Tales (now defunct, 2005-2011) went through a few facelifts too.

I’m like a woman sometimes. I grow weary of looking at the same thing in the mirror, so I toss open the WordPress closet to see what’s new.

And free.

I like this change, but I always like the changes, or I wouldn’t make them. Some folks who write blogs wear the same outfit for years and years. I don’t know how they do it. Have they no sense of style?

Even worse is writing on Blogger when WordPress is immensely superior in every way, and switching is no big deal.

Let’s be blunt: These people are fuddy-duddies.

They should have names like Cora and Dudley.

This new outfit looks best on a PC screen or a decent-sized laptop. Quite a bit is lost on a tablet, and if you read a blog on a cell phone, there’s no hope for you.

The new comment section is quite better. With the previous style, it was often difficult to see who was responding to whom. Not anymore.

The type is larger. I’m not so fond of that, but some of you older folks can remove your glasses or pince-nez. There is nothing Mexican about the header, and there is a little mugshot of me up there, which the old look lacked.

The photo was taken a decade ago as I ate a churro in Mexican actress Margarita Gralia’s hot chocolate-and-churro joint in San Miguel de Allende.

I am fond of the photo because, although you can see me well enough, it’s not sufficiently precise to put out a hit on me.

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Note: I changed the theme yet again after writing the above, so some of the post may not make sense now.

Churro man

THIS IS … well, I don’t know his name in spite of having known him more than a decade.

Twelve or so years ago he walked our streets with a cardboard jar requesting donations for a drug-rehab center. I don’t know if he was a patient or just a helper. I suspect the former.

But that didn’t last very long — a couple of years — and then he started selling churros, a sugar-coated pastry. He’s been doing that on downtown streets ever since.

You can hear him coming a block away as he yells churros, churros, churros. Sometimes I buy one to go with my café Americano negro. That’s what I did yesterday.

He totes the basket and loops that collapsible stand over his forearm. And he’s always very upbeat.

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(Note: For a superior version of this shot and other fabulous photos, take a look here.)

Out of the dark

DARKNESS IS the new black.

The leftist media has cited “darkness” repeatedly since the election of President Trump. The Washington Post, more leftist even than The New York Times, recently added “Democracy Dies in Darkness” to its online masthead.

The Post says it has nothing to do with Trump.

Yeah, right.

I don’t want to be associated with leftists and their dark obsessions in any form, so I am abandoning entirely the dark photos I’ve used here for avatars for a long time.

Gone is the black hat and the dark bebop cap in black & white photos. I am out of the cave. The new face to the world is this, which was taken about 12 years ago.

New

I am enjoying a churro* in the restaurant owned in downtown San Miguel de Allende by Mexican actress Margarita Gralia.

Old

While I added this photo to my comments avatar weeks ago, it was only today that I made it official by adding it to the Felipe Page up thataway.

This change has lifted a darkness from my spirit. I feel more upbeat, happier and fulfilled. Let’s leave the darkness to Democrats and other sourpusses.

Conservatives are happy, colorful people.

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* Churros sometimes are sold filled with something like chocolate. This is an abomination. Churros should always be eaten au naturel.

Cash from abroad

bank

EVERY FRIDAY this long line forms outside the ATM of the Santander bank. Often the line goes halfway down the block before it disappears around the corner.

This is a relatively new scene, starting about two months ago. I have a theory. These people are withdrawing cash that was deposited by relatives above the Rio Bravo.

They are a motley bunch from the lower economic regions. Young, for the most part, with a good percentage, mostly male, to whom the adjective cholo would apply. Bandannas, sunglasses, hoodies, pants drooping low.

They’re not just from our town because many come in minibuses from outlying villages. The minibuses bring them, wait, and then return them to the sticks.

The good thing about this for me is that the long line usually attracts a churro vendor who hawks his goodies out of a basket. Churros go real good with café Americano negro.

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(Where’s Waldo? Just barely noticeable in the shot above is the subject of another photo.)