Why, thank you, Dear. Shaving works both ways. As a mid-teenager, I was wild to start shaving. My dad, who was normally very understated, took me by the shoulders and said, "Son, if you never listen to anything else I ever say, hear me now: PUT IT OFF, as long as possible." I wish that I'd listened, si man.
Are things out-sorted? Well, I am counting no chickens until C.'s visa is IN HAND. I will post no review whatsoever of the organized, congenial, truthful, fair, respectful, making-me-proud-to-be-a-Yanqui consulate until C. is safely and completely INSIDE the U.S. (probably October). This should speak volumes; see signature for an inkling.
Speaking of chickens ("pollos" in Mexico & Ecuador, si man), get a load of this very cool website: http://www.pollofeliz.com
On a visit to Ojinaga, Mexico (cool city, across from Presidio, Texas -- try to find it on the map), and without knowing a word of Spanish except for the crucially necessary "pollo," I managed to order and subsequently eat (in one sitting) a pollo entero (an entire roasted chicken) at Pollo Feliz. Question: Why is the restaurant named "Happy Chicken" if all of the chickens there are dead and are eaten, huh man? This quandary notwithstanding, it's said that each of us has 15 minutes of fame, and that was my 18 or 20 minutes thereof, si man.
Otherwise, my Spanish is so proficient that when I proudly and carefully enunciate "Soy hecho en Ecuador" ("I am made in Ecuador"), the Ecuadorians (and the Mexicans, too) immediately and helpfully point the direction toward the restroom. Uh, si man.
As a mere Colonist who has spent his life here across The Pond, I am hono(u)red to be in the august (next month, the septembral) presence of so many lovely, gracious Britannica-Americanas, si man. Anyone from anywhere who wants insights on U.S. stuff, including topics even more crucial than spiders, roachcocks, and pollos, is welcome to inquire, si man.
