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Puentes…Essays and Fiction | Boiling Frogs
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. Puentes…Essays and Fiction. We took my grandfather to to the edge of Key West the year before his death. An old man, walking with our help and quietly living with the pain brought about by old age and old memories. It’s only 90 miles away, if there was a bridge we could drive there in two hours! 8221; – said I, seventeen years old at the time. My father looked down and walked to the car, out of my sight, but the old man didn’t move.
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Without Saying Goodbye. Conversations with El Yuca | Boiling Frogs
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. Without Saying Goodbye. Conversations with El Yuca. I really believe that word is one of the least-used words in my vocabulary, maybe in the entire language of people like myself – Cuban-born people that is. To me, that says that we shall never meet again, so go with God then, if not myself. That is so Hollywood does Mexico. I can say with authority that. My peoplewe don’t like to say good-bye. That’s when it started to rain. I remember ...
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The Day Before Tomorrow | Boiling Frogs
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. The Day Before Tomorrow. I’ve been missing the point the whole time. I’ve looking at life the wrong way all along. Allow me to illustrate. I tore the tape sealing the first of my treasure chests and looked down at the contents. Old newspaper clippings, college term papers and greeting cards from over twenty five years ago stared back at me, and in a matter of minutes my well-intentioned efforts at house cleaning were forgotten. It was Ma...
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Sueño de una Noche de Verano | Boiling Frogs
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. Sueño de una Noche de Verano. The writer bent closer to his work and read the words before him slowly, his lips savoring them as a tender kiss. Each word an individual inspiration, each sentence a revelation, each paragraph a testament to his desperation, his resignation to the inevitable. No more words would come tonight; he could feel their absence. The writer folded his papers tenderly, carefully following the creases (too many cr...
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Walking on Freedom Road | Boiling Frogs
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. Walking on Freedom Road. It is a thing of beauty when plans work out to perfection. The crowd was building, many stood and voiced concerns about the weather; the very old looked with knowing eyes to the sky and shook their heads. Soon it will rain -an old man behind me- I can smell it. That’s when I saw him, some yards ahead of me. From the back, he could have been my grandfather; his white. He wasn’t moving real fast, but it struck me t...
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BOOM, BOOM, BOOM | Boiling Frogs
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. It seems that the winds of war are blowing across the world once again, a gathering storm somewhere just beyond the horizon. I wanted to write a few words in remembrance of the fallen on this Memorial Day, they who sacrificed everything in the name of God, country, and flag, defending God-given, enduring freedom in other wars, in fields and beaches far away; a stern reminder that freedom carries a price. He was my friend.
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Boiling Frogs | Trust No One with the Temperature Dial | Page 2
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. March 3, 2013. Attack of the Killer (Mexican) Tomatoes. Posted by boilingfrogs under Boiling Frogs. The Obama administration has averted a war. The New York Times reporting:. The United States and Mexico have reached a tentative agreement on cross-border trade in tomatoes, narrowly averting a trade war that threatened to engulf a swath of American businesses. What is that “reference price” mentioned in the article? Again from the New Yor...
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Rafael Contreras | Boiling Frogs
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. A good friend has a great blog titled “Vox Clamantis in Deserto”. 8230;”The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness”, from the Book of Isaiah. It is a great blog, you should check it out. That phrase, from the first moment that I saw it, brought to mind the writings of Rafael Contreras. An attempt to stay safe in hostile conditions. I found his writings archived by the Cuba Free Press Project. A Voice Without fear in a Silent Herd.
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My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys | Boiling Frogs
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Puentes…Essays and Fiction. Trust No One with the Temperature Dial. My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys. September 24, 2000. The traffic snarl was endless. I grew up dreaming. Of being a cowboy,. And loving the cowboy’s way. Of my high-riding heroes,. I burned up my childhood days. The traffic continued to crawl as Willie worked his magic on me. There where six of us living in the two bedroom apartment in. There was, as I had expected, no parking available at the Center so I made a quick left and drove ha...
