People travel everyday. They fly across oceans, mountains, and forests to reach several destinations around the world. There’s a desire in man to journey, but there is also a fear. I personally don’t like to fly; therefore, I don’t travel much. St. Augustine of Hippo once said, “The world is like a book, and those who don’t travel only read one page.” So I guess I’m committing a sin.
Mesoamericans believed chocolate to be a gift from the gods. I agree.
German Shepherd, Husky, Vizsla, Chihuahua, Great Dane, Miniature Pinscher. These are the names of some of my friends. They lick, they nibble, they protect, they love, but they never betray. They even howl and bark with excitement when you come home. Maybe that’s why they are considered man’s best friend.
It’s something I learned to do from when I used to spend time with my dad. We would go out to the pier and catch bonito, yellow-fin croaker, and mackerel This one’s good to eat he would say, this one has too much DDT, and Mexicans don’t eat those he would say. Now that my dad is gone. I still go fishing. I fish the California surf for perch. Sometimes I say, I’ll take two home for dinner. Sometimes I’ll say a little DDT can’t be that bad. Sometimes I’ll say I’m American so I’ll eat this one.
On Southern California.
I wonder if my parents realized when they migrated here that they would be settling down in one of the largest cultural salad bowls in the world. Where their son would be best friends with a Palestinian, would learn how to make homemade gnocchi from Italians, and would attend mass at a church with a Filipino priest. Southern California is like a little preview of the world. Southern California isn’t just a place where languages can be switched out like changing a pair of shoes. It’s a place where one could surf, hike, and ski in the same day. A place where a protestant church, synagogue, and mosque can be located on the same street. There’s a diversity of geography, tongue, mind, and heart.