Sunday, August 30, 2015

Dash Deringer - Racist Half-Breed

I had been exchanging e-mails with an artist for a while when the subject of race came up, I expressed my feelings on the matter and this person freaked out, and after she calmed down, lectured me through an e-mail - which to date is  the most retarded thing I have ever received, filled with stupid arguments... and she wants nothing more to do with me - but I am sure that has more to do with me telling her that most men that buy art don't collect female artists... Yes, If you are going to put a label on me then I qualify as a conservative traditionalist - and this happens all the damn time... just because I work with and know many artists and entertainers people naturally assume I am a leftist liberal socialist... I am not.  I do what I do for the money and because I am good at it  - I want to get paid... I want to work for what I want, and I want to keep what I have earned - I don't screw people over, I don't lie to make money, I don't cheat anyone, I mind my own business - I am not a do-gooder... and I am racist... and I do not have a problem with it, and the majority of the people I deal with do not have a problem with it either - as long as I am putting money in their pockets... the subject hardly ever comes up but here it is now... will I loose money from it... probably... but who gives a fuck... the writings that follow were originally posted as comments on The Iron Legion Journal.

I
(May 12, 2015)

I came to America in the mid 70’s – my mother had remarried and her new husband was an American… back in those days the States was not a politically correct nightmare as it is today and foreigners had to assimilate to their new home – we were going to live and work in America and enjoy the “freedoms” it provides – you will speak English and live and act as Americans – yes, many foreigners retained their cultures… in their homes and in their neighborhoods – if they were all of the same kind… but at the schools and at work and in their daily lives out and about their cities… we were all American… and we were all proud to be here… this land of hope and freedom… and everyone is equal under the law… and you have the freedom of choice and of speech and opinion… and if you work hard enough… you can become whatever you want to be… for America – in those days – rewarded hard work… that was the America of my child-hood…

When I arrived I was out of school for a couple of years – In Mexico I had already began classes at the age of four – we were learning math and reading and writing – back then in Mexico we started early and graduated school early – many still do today – when the time came for me to start school in America I was informed by all that I would have to speak English… I was stubborn and held on to my Spanish for as long as I could… I struggled to keep it and I struggled just as hard to learn English… I had to take some courses twice – all the foreign kids had to that did not speak English – I took a math class in English and one in Spanish – the Spanish math was teaching us how to translate it all into English… I had to take a remedial English class to learn how to read English and our professor was a beautiful lady who spoke with a heavy Southern Accent… and I would always get in trouble for mocking her – I wasn’t, but she would always lecture me about it – see… I was repeating the words she would teach us using her accent – a heavy Southern accent… and all the kids would laugh… I didn’t know… I thought that is what I was supposed to do – I was trying to make an effort to become a young American and I guessed we were all going to be cowboys – because we had this country girl teaching us English… y’all… and all the kids laughed and I liked making them laugh and perhaps I may have gone too far… eh… you can never go too far in comedy… So back in that old America – that politically incorrect America – diversity was fine – as long as you remember that this is your new home… and you will live as an American – you will take it’s culture as your own, you will take it’s values as your own… and you will protect them…

I got the Spanish beat out of me and it was a struggle – I speak English like a mid-westerner now… and I have no Spanish accent… many people do not believe that I am from Mexico – but I am… and the older I have become I have embrace more and more my Latin roots… I am Mexican – in my heart and in my soul I am Mexican – I dream in Spanish… I love in Spanish… I hate in Spanish… I prefer to seduce in Spanish… as I have gotten older and see that Foreigners have come to the United States and were not forced to go through all that my generation and those before us went through to assimilate into the culture… well… it pisses me off… in English and in Spanish – I have been chastised by white Americans for lecturing foreigners for not learning English and trying to teach them how to speak properly… Americans – mad at me for wanting foreigners in their country to Westernize themselves… I give up… I was born in Mexico… I am Mexican – for it seems to me that America does not want those Americans of my youth anymore… but when I am here – in America… by God… I am a Texas fucking cowboy – that is the culture I was raised in… but now… even Texas is drowning in the stench of political correctness…

II
(June 2, 2015)

Henry – you’re right about all the fear and self censoring – I see it all over the States… people trying to put together a politically correct sentence so as not to offed anyone around them in public… It is a big reason why I must be self employed – because I am not politically correct and I wont get fired for offending anyone for whatever I may say or do… in this delicate spineless country… sometimes when I realize I may have gone too far in a conversation, or joke, or in stating an opinion… I shrug my shoulders and say – “I’m from Mexico – I don’t know how you do things here…” – which is bullshit… because I was raised here and know exactly how we do things here but it gets me off the hook – I have always hated affirmative action and people that pull their race card and the victim card… but I find that if I pull the” I’m Mexican” card it helps a little… “oh – you’re a foreigner… that’s all right…”

I even see Mexican Nationals here in Texas looking for the right words to use so that they don’t offend – which is hard because Mexican men say it as they see it… but in America… they are now trying to be very careful… Political correctness just wont fly in the Spanish language – we would all sound like a bunch or retards… I laugh when I see Mexicans try to be politically correct because… wait for it… Mexicans are very prejudiced and racist people… true, it is a half breeds paradise… but we prefer to separate our groups by color… we all love the brown girls… but we all want white children… if a dark skinned Mexican is successful you can bet your ass he has a light skinned wife or girlfriend… and there is of course the possibility that just because two fair skinned Mexicans have children that not all of them will come out white – there’s always the moreno of the family – the dark one… and of course I have seen all dark families with the child that is the guerro – the white boy… there are blacks in Mexico, but they are generally located in just a few states – and not many people outside of Mexico know that we have blacks… and you could say it is because we don’t let them run wild… was that a terrible thing to say… well… I guess this is a good place for me to admit that I am a racist half breed Mexican… but I am just like all other Mexicans in this regard… the problem with this fact is that it does not fit the narrative of the left… in Mexico – the land of half breeds… of Indians with varying languages and identities that we all struggle to preserve – because they are Mexico… and of the mestizos and the mulatos and the guerros… the gavachos… we all are prejudice and we all are racist… and we… the Mexicans, don’t have any problem with it… I am a racist and I have never hurt anyone… and I do not believe my being a racist effects the world in a bad way… and yes… I love the brown girls… but I want guerro babies… and I want them to be raised in the white world… it is the world I was raised in… all of Latin America is pretty much the same as Mexico and the people do separate themselves – so much so that it must be seen as something natural… it is even this way in Asia… it must be a natural thing…

The nations (people of the same culture and language) were separated for a reason – the races of the world found their own lands – for a reason… it must be to preserve themselves and their ways and their beliefs… it must be nature.

Men like Clay have their pick of women – it is good that he married a black woman and that he preserve his race and be proud of it – we all should… as I said I am a half breed – but I had no say in the matter… I was born this way… but I have more white European blood in me than I do Indian – I am fair skinned (but I tan beautifully) and in my family we get the brown skin from my mothers mother who is Indian – indigenous of Mexico – my mothers father is white of European descent… I do not hate people for the color of their skin – that is just stupid… I will decide on a person based on his actions… how they treat others and their behavior in society… I don’t judge people by what they say – because people say one thing and do another… and it is the other that I look for… are you respecting the world around you and acting accordingly… or do we need to beat the fucking stupid out of you… and I do feel sorry for those living in third world countries – for their poverty and the violence they live in – but that has nothing to do with me… they need to change their countries – their government – their way of thinking… don’t make me responsible for them…I am a man looking for a country I can call home, myself… before I become a refugee too…

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Art and Capitalism

Friday, August 21, 2015

Collision with Destiny

Just a little patch of land with enough room to grow some corn on, perhaps a grove of apple trees and pecan trees... a corner in the back to grow some vegetables and a  fig tree... some chickens and lambs.  Just a little patch of land with enough space to build houses for your children when they get older and start a family of their own and everyone has enough food from your garden, everyone pitches in a little bit of money for whatever other supplies are needed... perhaps you have a business that your sons are part of, some sort of service or manufacturing that you do and all expenses for everyone are paid out from this family income.  It is not unusual to still find families in Mexico or Central and South America where several generations of one family all live together, sharing one property.  I know you can still find them in the middle east and in Asia... but not so much in Europe and America.  I once was told - and I believe it to be true - that the quickest and easiest way to create wealth is to do so as a family - one unit, one tribe against the world... it worked for those families that seem to never loose their wealth, but they were not raised like you and me... they were not raised like middle class children or like lower class children... they were raised to believe it is them against the world... and these families have a family home to go to if and when it is needed... most American middle class parents charge their children rent to live in their homes after they turn eighteen or if they have to return... but instead of teaching their children something that will help them in the real world, most parents tell them to go to collage and start life as adults in debt - well, they didn’t know any better... and they really didn’t have anything to teach their children anyhow. But do you want to repeat those same mistakes with your own children or do you want to teach them something... do you want to have something to pass down to them... something you can build together as a family that will last for generations?

Most Americans, most Christians, do not even know who their cousins are - not their first cousins not their second cousins, and ask them to name their great-grandfathers and they will draw a blank... why is that?  Why are  Americans and Europeans made to feel guilty about being white and made to apologize for events in the past that they had nothing to do with yet, not know where they come from... who they come from... I suppose for you it might not matter if your grandchildren do not remember you or know anything about you when you die, or that you leave no legacy behind for them... after all, you will be dead and you got yours... right... but... history remembers those who  met destiny head on... we might not know all of their names, but we remember their generation... we remember their clans and their journeys and their hardships... we remember the cities and the culture they left behind... we remember them by their music and dances and the stories of them... I think about it and wonder if it is only just a few who are called upon by destiny to play a part in the shaping of  history... madmen... poets... revolutionaries and wide eyed visionaries... those fools that others laugh at... the ones that wont conform... the ones that dream of it and obsess over it until they have to do something to make it real... the automobile... planes.. Computers... rockets... the wheel... in the big picture of history, those few men that we remember, and the ones we can’t, that changed the world, are but a very small fraction of the total number of lives that have come and gone... but what they left behind... what they left behind...

I do not believe that we - man - have reached our peak... I refuse to believe that... and that we still have  many more dreams left in us to make into reality... but there is just so much fear of upsetting the herd... of being cast out and shamed and insulted for the things you believe in... people fear rejection and they fear failure... they probably fear the laughter and humiliation  that comes from the failure more... mostly because that laughter comes from your own family - those closest to you... your friends, your loved ones... the ones that should have been helping you to succeed... instead of hoping that you fall on your face... they want you to conform they want you to be just like them... I  know... I  still get it from my own family... but... destiny is chasing me... I just can’t run anymore... I must meet it head on... and I know... what ever history says about me when I am gone - be it good or bad... will be better than not being remembered by my grandchildren... for I will leave behind a legacy... I will leave behind something those that come after me can have pride in... I will leave behind something that they will want to carry on - something that will give them identity that separates them from the rest of the crowd - honor, nobility... courage... I will leave behind a home for them and give them the skills that they will never have to wait in a bread line or grovel before a bureaucrat... they will have ethics and strong principles... they will work hard for their share and they will be rewarded abundantly for it... they will know their cousins... and they will be one tribe against the world... and they will say... “grandfather built this for us...”

Yes... Destiny is coming into focus...
The Cross in the Mountains
by
Caspar David Friedrich

Saturday, August 15, 2015

gold

I know it was real - because I can still feel...
her kiss on my lips...
and a child's curiosity
in her fingertips.

I smell her perfume on my body
and I see her eyes everywhere
the moonlight glows...
and her kisses and caresses
left traces of gold...



Tuesday, August 11, 2015

The Modern World Detox Week-End

Inspired by Simon's post: De-Programming Modernism at The Iron Legion

 1.  Turn of your cell phone and keep away from your computer.  No television and no radio stations that play modern music.

 2.  Eat only non processed foods - that is, if it wasn’t around before the 19th century, don’t eat it.

 3.  Exercise - calisthenics, lifting - I don’t have weights... I lift milk jugs filled with water and a back pack filled with books or rocks... but I lift.  The milk gallons are off-balance so it makes you focus on how you hold them and strengthens your grip and the form of your arms.  Do push ups and crunches.  And walk - early in the morning and in the evening as the sun sits.

 4.  Start carrying a pocket knife - a Swiss Army knife or a pocket multi-tool... a single blade or a multi blade like a Boker... but start carrying a knife and use it every chance you can - to slice your fruit and for repairs... use it and learn the feel of it in your hand and... its textures and form and  weight... it is your steel... your blade... your sword.  It is very hard to find a man of my generation who does not carry a pocket knife... when did that stop?

 5.  Plant something... vegetables or a fruit tree or a nut tree or  some herbs... whatever, if you want to plant roses then do so... it would be best if it was something you could eat but plant something and tend your garden and watch it grow... this will give you responsibility if you need it... especially if you are planting food... nature will do most of the work but you do have to tend to your garden and keep pests away and give it water... use your instincts and logic and common sense - it is in you... bring it out.

 6.  Build something.  Get some wood and build a shelf... a desk... a chair... a table - a table is simply a door with legs... you will not look it up on the internet... again, use your instinct, a ruler, a pencil, and your tools.  Create with your hands and take your time... visualize it and give form to your vision... keep the vision of what you are building in your head and put your spirit into it... it could be a simple wooden spoon or a bird house... it can be something as simple as making a book...

 7.  Write... everything - in your new journal that you fashioned together... random thoughts, ideas, lists, sketches, maps... the blue prints for your rebel fortress... the cipher poem to get to your buried treasure...

 8.  Find an old timer and make friends... ask question and learn... don’t let the knowledge of the last generations fade.

 9.  Find men - look for others of like mind and spirit and form a gang... a tribe... a brotherhood and form a bond and when the time has come seal that bond with ritualistic ceremony - like the bonds of blood brothers you made when you were a boy... what you didn’t do that?

10. Go into the woods alone and with your tribe... learn to survive... learn to just be alone and commune with your thoughts, with your soul... with nature and with God... learn your plants and weeds... the trees... the sounds and the smells... learn to make a fire - I don’t know how to make a fire out of nature... I carry a tin with fire making tools - fire-striker, matches, lighter and tinder...

Learn to hunt... with a bow and arrow - long bow, not your modern mechanical stuff... fashion a spear and fish with it... when you are not hunting for your food then play with the creatures in the woods - chase the rabbit and the deer... feed the birds and the geese... make your rituals in the wild - chant and pray and dance around the fire... make your rituals around the hunt and give thanks for your food... make a ritual before your hunt and after... make rituals around the fire - tell stories and create myth... even if your are just by your self... give yourself a tribal name - you have no name until the tribe gives you a name...

11. Find a church... if you are not ready to go to mass... just find a church... the older the better... and sit there in silence... take in the smells and the echoes... and whisper gently your conversation with God... this will center you - I don’t know why or how it works... but being in an empty old church... for a just a little while does do something spiritual to you.

12. Spend time with your family - many people these days do not get along with their family - but they are your family... they are your clan... you don’t have to say much... just be around them and get them used to the idea... of you being around them... perhaps you can convince your brother to go out into the wild with you... let them know that (even if they are jerks) you got their back... gather your family for a Sunday lunch or dinner... begin or restore your family traditions... in my opinion there is not much point of having a family if there are no traditions to gather for... and tradition is what we are trying to save and restore.
'Camp fire'
Winslow Homer

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Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Scouts of the Legion

When I was a boy my older brother Johnny was a Boy Scout when he was a teenager - he went camping and hiking and wore that awesome green uniform and had a sash covered in accomplishment badges... and he was just cool... and I wanted to do all that  and learn all that camping and wilderness stuff... I wanted to learn to be an Indian... and live in the woods in a tee-pee... I thought that was what scouting was... and I wanted to be just a little bit like Johnny back then as well... but I was too young to be a Boy Scout - for boys my age we had to first be Cub Scouts - and our uniform was blue... not quite as cool... The biggest reason I wanted to become a scout was because I wanted to learn useful manly stuff - I was curious and longed for adventure... see, there was no park in our neighborhood and like all the other boys, dad worked all the time... my step father was always on the road - he was a truck driver and had his own company... and I wanted some sort of bonding with other kids that I could have something in common with outside of school - I was not much into sports as a boy, mostly because no one encouraged that in me... I was in the track team in elementary school and ran in the track team when my family lived in Odessa for my junior high... but left track behind when we returned to El Paso... track and field sports are mostly a solo effort , other than the relay team... you are competing as an individual with others... and scouting, of course, had sporting competitions back then... and  I wanted encouragement for something... from someone - back then... and I thought I would find it in scouting... so I joined... along with all the boys from the neighborhood - seriously... all the boys from the neighborhood made up our troop... we were now a unified gang dressed in blue ready to take on the woods...

Yeah... that didn’t happen... we never went on a camping trip... the mothers we were trying to get away from to become men were the mothers that were running the troop... (long sigh here...) My mother mostly... she was one of  the ‘den mothers’ - there were no male scout leaders for us... no ‘den fathers’ - there was one kids dad who would come to teach us some things but he was an ex-marine and thought we were marines and treated us like we were in boot camp... other fathers would come to teach us different skills like wood carving and leather working... but we had no regular guy there for us... we were boys looking for male leadership because our own fathers were busy putting food on the table and keeping the lights on... the women didn’t know anything that they weren’t reading from a manual... it was not what we thought... not want we were looking for and not what we wanted... many of the boys became disillusioned and came to the group meeting less and less until the troop was disbanded for lack of members participating... including me...

I would be twenty one years old when I would go on the camping trip that got be interested in the scouting life again - that trip I took with Jerry and his cousin... when I cut my hand open... we didn’t know what we were doing really - a herd of cattle came through camp... some creature ate our food... it was cold and uncomfortable... and I slit the palm of my hand open... I loved it... the others... not so much and before the second night they packed it in and we left... but I had that bug in me... and I wanted more... and whenever I could... I would go hiking in the mountains or in the valley or go into New Mexico and go on a scout just be my self... no one knew and I didn’t care that I didn’t know what I was doing... I was going to learn what I could on my own - as everything else in my life... I was finally going on those adventures I dreamed of as a boy - and for me the adventure is always not knowing what is going to happen... so, since I was twenty one I have secretly gone on scouts - camping trips on my own... whenever I have the opportunity... and I have learned the most important thing in life from it - trust my instincts... trust the voice inside of me... Confidence comes from success - it comes form accomplishing something... the more you accomplish the more successful you will become and that gives you more confidence to accomplish more... it’s a continuous circle that you don’t want to break once it starts - but it does break from time to time...  Listening to that voice inside of me and trusting my instinct would take another ten years before I applied it to everything else in my life.

Through my scouting life I have learned to keep it simple.  I have learned to be a minimalist... I have learned to do without - which came in handy when I had absolutely nothing...  I have learned to endure and have learned just how much I can endure... and I have learned to pick myself up when there is no one else to help me up and I have learned to push myself - to get to my destination... I have learned to enjoy the journey... and  to take my time... I have learned patience... I have learned to humble myself before my creator... I have learned gratitude - I am still learning the hunt, but for everything I have caught in the wild I have humbled myself and given thanks to God and offered up a prayer for the rabbit or fish I was to make a meal of - the way the Indians before me did... I have learned to be frugal and thrifty... I have learned how to be creative (in more ways than artistic)... and I have learned to be brave... and I have learned to trust in nature... nature knows what she is doing... God taught her... I have learned that there is an answer... it is just waiting to be discovered.

I was a supporter of the Boy Scouts of America up until the point when they changed their policy on homosexuals... on principle I had to pull my support and backing... for the scouts were there to teach the young men to be morally straight and this new policy goes against that teaching... I do not know what the Boy Scouts stand for now days... but I know what it was when I was a boy... when I wanted so much to be one of them... but I know... that to save it... as the rest of the chaos... it must return to what it was...

If this legion we are building ever decides to implement a program for boys - a program that will instill in them the foundations of ethics and principles and strong morals... a program that will instill in them the virtues of a simple life based on a chivalric code... and that will help boys enter into man hood with ritualistic ceremony and give them rites of passage into an eternal brotherhood... If this legion begins a program for boys that will teach them to honor and cherish the traditions of their people... their culture and faith... I will support such a program and protect it... for the future needs the kinds of men that scouting can produce... if this legion starts such a group and picks up where the Scouts left off and can return it to what it was... I know those boys that participate will become great leaders - if not, great followers... but they most certainly need to learn to be boys... and be as boys must be - curious and adventurous and free.






The Boy Scout Oath:

On my honor, I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my country and to obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight. 

A  Boy Scout Is:

 Trustworthy
Loyal
Helpful
Friendly
Courteous
Kind
Obedient
Cheerful
Thrifty
Brave
Clean
Clever
Reverent

The Boy Scout Moto:

Be Prepared

The Boy Scout Slogan:

Do a Good Turn Daily

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

The house my Grandfather built




Grandfather unloading the lumber for his house
1951

I never knew this house that Grandfather built for his family
but I dream about it and I think of it when I plan out the 
house I will build one day... it is a simple yet elegant home...
simple... uncomplicated... and elegant... like the man that built it.

My Grand-Parents, Walter and Vivian renewing their wedding vows
July 1980... in my memories my Grandfather was always and old man.
Like my mothers father... they were old when the world was still young.

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Is there hope for the modern American woman... I don't think so...

A few months ago I walked over to the Barnes & Nobles book store near my neighborhood on the west side of El Paso - I can’t remember now what I was looking for because I had let myself get so upset that I left... when I had reached the parking lot I noticed a woman in her thirties wearing a very tight purple dress that showed off  her body - she was very fit, she had shoulder length red hair and very white skin... almost perfect except for her age... which was noticeable in her face... by the time I reached the side walk in front of the store she was now a few steps behind me  - I really had no interest in chatting her up so I walked on... when I got to the entrance there were two elderly ladies in the foyer looking at the books on display there... they both turned to me startled - and I held the door open for them - they said nothing... these women that I am guessing were in their late sixties or seventies... looked at me as if I was about to rape them... I smiled as I paused - but felt awkward - holding the door for them... they said nothing - we’re not leaving just yet, no thank you, how kind-but no... nothing... just looked at me like I owed them an apology... I turned to look at the red-head now about five steps away and walked in. Once you enter the foyer it is five steps to get to the next door - and through the reflection I see the red head woman hold the door open, the old women were still standing in the same place as I walked around them... and I hear them say to “red” - oh thank you... how very sweet... I let out a chuckle and turn to look behind me - and they are all giving me a strange look - red-head looked at me like I should be ashamed of myself or something... I know she saw me pause to hold the door open... I stood there for a while... fuck it... I entered and made my way to the Spanish section but turned around and left...

A couple of days ago I walked down to the post office to drop off my bills... walking out, there was a woman carrying boxes and had her arms  full, she was about eight feet away from the door - I held  it open for her and stepped to the side to give her more room - she gave me an irritated smile and thanked me in a sarcastic way... she made me feel like  she was going out of her way to say thank you... but really there was no trace of gratitude or kindness in her voice or demeanor... and as she entered the building she actually rolled her eyes at me and passed  by with a grunting sigh... I wanted nothing more than to punch that bitch in the back of the head... as this brought back the memory of the Barnes & Nobles incident...

Irritated and drained of all positive energy I got on a bus and headed for the border and crossed over to Juarez to lock myself up for a couple of days - I needed  to pick up an old lap-top anyway because my others needed to be cleaned out and restored... before I went to my place I stopped by a drugstore  to get some supplements, walking to the door there was an old lady with a cane in front - I asked if she was going into the drugstore and she said she was. I held the door open for her and held my hand out for her... she takes it with a smile and slowly walks in... she tells me that her daughter is parking the car and will join her shortly - I tell her I will wait with her until her daughter arrives... she tell me how kind and handsome I am and that gentlemen like me are getting harder to find... the demons in me quiet down... we make small talk about the rain and she tells me it is really pouring further south... her daughter enters - a very attractive woman in her thirties... dressed like Caterina Murino in ‘Zen’... and I am a sucker for that sort of look... the daughter thanks me and comments on my looks and breeding - just as her mother did and flirts a little with me... we walk in together and go our separate ways with well-wishes and polite smiles... the demons sulk away... in despair...

Just a couple of block away from the drugstore I ran into a young woman I had met just a couple of times - a friend of a friend of a girl I once dated and had not seen this lady in about close to a year... we chatted there on the side walk  - I mostly just asked about her and let her do all the talking - just keep asking questions and avoid talking about my ex... I invited her to join me for a cup of coffee and perhaps some dinner... she informs me that she and her room mates are preparing dinner at home - she shares a house with two other girls - and that she had only stepped out to get some seasoning and vegetables... and would I please join them for dinner... I accept... she calls her mates on her cell and we walk to her place which was just a few more blocks from where we met...

The two others greeted us at the door... with smiles and genuine cheerfulness... the one I was with works for a doctor and the other two both work at the same clinic while finishing their nursing school... they were waiting for the oldest one to get back from the store - the one I was with  - Maribel... before they started cooking - chicken enchiladas with chile verde and topped with a cream of chicken broth served with a Mexican rice with vegetables - carrots, corn, celery and cilantro... guacamole and beans... and a very spicy salsa! - as I had to wait for dinner to get cooked I sat in their little living room and they took turns coming in to talk with me - they had all heard of me and new me mostly by reputation... what ever that was exactly I was not quite sure... I never asked one of them to define it... Fernanda - the youngest, at 20, made no disguise of her flirting with me - they all flirted with me separately and together - made sure that I did not run out of cold beer and tried hard to understand just exactly what I mean by I find people with money to invest in specific businesses and introduce them with the people that need their money... that’s a business - she asked... like that guy in the movie... no, not like that guy...  Sandy the other room mate is elegant and motherly... she is the more serious of the three but seems rather shy and insecure with me... but it did not stop her from batting her eyes at me as well...

Sitting down to enjoy this wonderful meal that women I do not even know prepared and shared with me made me feel more than grateful and I simply had to humble myself before them for lack of being able to express my feelings... they picked up on this and only made me more endearing in their eyes as they had heard - from others... that I was nothing more than a reckless womanizer - which is not far from the truth...  I explained the events that led me to my trip into Juarez that evening and they were shocked... Maribel stated that it was bad enough they lived in a border town and that the women were too influenced by the North... she just couldn’t handle crossing to El Paso anymore that she stopped going... Sandy pretty much said the same thing - she no longer goes over to visit family and friends... and does not understand the attitude of the women and commented on the men not knowing how to act and behave with women... I let them know that I was having a pleasant evening with them and how very long it has been since I enjoyed such pleasurable company... when the topic of my status as a single man came up - I explained that I was looking to settle down - well, that just turned up the level of the flirting and they each upped their feminine game... by about fifty percent... Fernanda asked what I was looking for in a woman and I responded without thinking - a woman that is not crazy at this point... and they all laughed... Sandy said - good luck...

Earlier today I tried to get in touch with each one individually to thank them for their kindness and their delicious meal... I had to leave a message on the voice mail for Maribel and Fernanda, but got to talk with Sandra... I am taking her out tonight... but asked her to let the others know that I want to take them all out for a night on the town... for a man my age to be seen with three attractive young ladies that are not his daughters can only help my social status and reputation... I know what I am doing...

The demons howl in defeat...