DIVINING RAIN

Sometimes, I have the bad habit of skimming through a newspaper article rather than reading it in depth. Admittedly, this practice can give me the essence of a story, but it can also get me into trouble. The heading, “Monsoon Start Is On The Horizon,” got my attention, especially since Tucson has had no significant rainfall since the end of February.

I scanned the article until I came to the paragraph about storms that bring dry lightening and  shaggy clouds that contain Viagra. “Wow!” I thought, “So that’s where the name of the male enhancement medication came from—a rain that evaporates before it hits the ground.” Then I read, “This  part of the season is super dicey.”

Okay, “super dicey” got to me, and then I decided to go back and read the entire article carefully. It was then that I discovered that shaggy clouds contain “Virga”—-not Viagra. I was glad that I had read more carefully before embarrassing myself with a dumber than usual question aimed at my son, the former meteorologist.

One has to be so careful with information, because it doesn’t take too much to get it wrong. For instance, a gynecologist once told me that a young bride wanted information about ovation. The doctor said, “I think you mean ovulation. The ovation comes later.”

However, misunderstandings aren’t always the fault of the recipient  but rather the fault of the person who is supplying the information. For instance, when shopping for an item, a little price sticker will announce “50% off.”  That looks really good until the shopper sees that the smaller print underneath informs the customer that it is 50% off the second item—- if you buy two of them.

The worst offenders are still the pharmaceutical companies recommending their products on television. The drugs they push inform the public that everyone needs the medication they are touting, because they will cure ailments most of us have never even heard of. Then the small print disclaimers zoom by at the bottom of the screen advising that, “This product has not been approved by the FDA.” Or,  “Individual Results May Vary.”  If you can read the speeding, tiny message it might say, “ Call your doctor if you get a rash, your tongue swells and hangs down to your knees, or you feel that  Kenny G’s saxophone is stuck into one of your ears.

Granted, there are miracle cures in the works for almost everything. Maybe, if atmospheric scientists try seeding the clouds with Viagra, it just might work! After all, the magazine PHARMACY TIMES says that the name, Viagra comes from “vitality, virility and vigor and it rhymes with Niagra (force and endurance).”

Niagra Falls has lots of water. So, I figure a little seeding here, and a little seeding there, couldn’t hurt. If it rains, I will definitely give the sky a heartfelt ovation.

Esther Blumenfeld

ROAMING ABOUT

My friend Perry (“Don’t use my last name, because I am in the Witness Protection Program) lived in New Jersey when he was ten-years-old. He and “three” or “five” of his buddies would get on a bus and ride to the subway station, whereupon they got on a subway, and rode to Shea Stadium in Flushing Meadows, New York to watch a baseball game. What fun!

In today’s world of over-protective parenting, they probably would have been confronted by child protective services when they returned home, and their parents would have been in handcuffs. No normal parent wants to expose a child to serious danger, but on the other hand, children need the freedom to do things alone such as riding a bike to school or exploring a playground.

Utah is now the first State to pass a law legalizing free-range parenting, and New York and Texas are contemplating the same. Over scheduled and over protected children need more freedom to develop independence, and the opportunity to become more resilient and less micro-managed. They need to breathe.

When I was eleven-years-old, my family lived in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. As a big sister, my two-year-old brother was often my responsibility, and I enjoyed sticking him in his stroller, and taking him three blocks from our home, to McKennon Park, where he could swing on the swings, slide down a metal slide and climb on the Monkey Bars. The kid was fearless.

One day, when we were at the park, the birds stopped singing, and the earth and the sky turned brown, and the wind began a ferocious howl. I threw my toddler brother into the stroller and began to run home. Cell phones had not yet been invented—-good thing—-because I never would have noticed the sky.

As I was running, it became more and more difficult for me to push the stroller, but I managed to get home. I struggled with the front door, and it took both me and my Mother to open it. My brother and I blew into the house just as the tornado reached its full force. The next day, I was amazed to see a tree sticking out of the side of our neighbor’s house. I had taken enormous responsibility, because even though I was a child, I was used to being left to my own devices and trusted to use good judgment.

I never felt cooped up since my parents couldn’t afford organized activities. However, I did go to a terrible camp one week where the creek had leeches Did you know you can burn those things off with cigarettes?  And the outhouse stank!  I survived and  it was a learning experience like…”Don’t ever do that to me again!”

Even getting lost can test ones mettle. I used to ride my trike up and down our sidewalk, and one day, decided to go around the block to see what was there. When I lost the familiar, I turned around and peddled back to where I had started. It was scary, but I had tested myself.

Fun consisted of playing outside sometimes with the kids in the neighborhood and we entertained ourselves with make-believe games and exploring my neighbor’s garden when she was out-of-town.  My buddies and I even went to the community swimming pool on our own. The only semi-adult supervision was the pimple-faced life guard. He did save me one day when a mean boy sat on my head when I was under the water. I did not drown, and I did punch the kid.

I had no screens to stare at—only the clouds in the sky, and I didn’t have a telephone tied to my wrist. I played outside from morning to dusk. In the summer my friends and I created forts and play houses out of old wooden crates. We played and laughed and fought and then made-up and played some more. In the winter, we made angels in the snow, built snowmen, and snow forts and had snowball fights. All of this inter-action, creativity, and independence was a great learning experience

In every season, my favorite words were, “Can Esther come out and play.” Those are still my favorite words.

Esther Blumenfeld

CIENFUEGOS CUBA

5/8/18: I’m not sure who named the tranquil seaside city, Cienfuegos, but I was told it was named after the guy who discovered the place. Who would name a kid, “100 Fires,” but maybe that was why he had to leave home.

Cienfuegos is very different from Havana. On the southern coast, the French spirit of the city is very visible. It was originally founded by French settlers from Louisiana, and the neoclassical architecture is well preserved. Enough of that!  Time to get to the serious business of the tour, the Cienfuegos Tobacco Factory.

I don’t know if there is something akin to a Tobacco Saint, but Cuban cigars are very revered. So, watching the production of the coveted cigar, at the Anastacio Cardenas Tobacco Factory, was a truly unique (as well as hot and humid) experience. I think the secret of tobacco is in the Cuban soil. We were introduced to the process including the  step by step intricate rolling of the wrapper, filler and binder as the leaves were wrapped.  By the way, a cigar leaf feels like silk. Now I don’t have to learn something new for at least another week.

Of course, we were allowed time to browse the shops and rum and cigar stores before ending the tour. More colorful old cars up and down the streets.

5/9/18:  Santiago De Cuba, Cuba

No, I did it right. The first is the name of the City, and the last is still—Cuba—-the island only 90 miles away from Miami. Santiago De Cuba has a 6000 mile-high mountain range.  Did you know there are mountains in Cuba?  I did not! It is a city that has a fascinating history, including the famed San Juan Hill, a 17th-century fortress, where a decisive battle was won during the Spanish-American War in 1898. The Americans, including Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders, and African-American Buffalo Soldiers helped the Cubans end Spanish rule of Cuba at this spot where the Spanish surrendered.

The city has a rich heritage of music, art and literature, and many famous people have come from this place including Desi Arnez  (Lucille Ball’s Cuban husband). His name wasn’t mentioned in the brochure, because I guess the other musicians were more mentionable, but I didn’t recognize any of them, so I wrote my own history.  Emilio Bacardi Moreau is also buried there—the famous rum guy.

More rum. More shopping, and a history tour in the plaza.  It was very hot and humid in the sun, so I slipped away from the group and entered an art museum. They asked me where I was from and I said, “America,” and, then, beaming they gave me the run of the place. Cubans really like Americans.  I think Teddy Roosevelt did that for us. I’m sure it was not Vice President, Nixon, who dismissed Castro when he came for a visit. Ike had gone golfing and left Castro to Nixon. He just didn’t like the guy, who had come to discuss relations with the U.S., and Nixon was sure he wouldn’t last more than a few months.  So Castro went to Russia….and the rest is history.

But back to the museum.  I walked up 40 steps to the gallery. I think every place in Cuba has 40 steps, and after perusing the paintings, I realized that they all were done by Cuban artists.
A lovely young attendant followed me, and, trying to be helpful, read to me from a lengthy plaque on the wall. Unfortunately, it was in Spanish, so I didn’t understand one word, but I thanked her and walked another 40 steps back to my sweaty tour.

5/10/18: A day at sea.  Time to pack up. Sailing back to Miami.
5/11/18:  Off to the Miami airport. Goodbye to Josh and Barbara. Another adventure with American Airlines. A four hour delay. Changing planes for the last flight out of Dallas. Changing gates five times, but I  made it!

Home at last. Glad I went. One of the best adventures ever!—Until the next one.

Esther Blumenfeld

CUBA HERE WE COME

5/4/18:  We boarded our ship in time for lunch. Well, what did you expect? After getting settled into our cabins, we went through the life-jacket-life-boat drill, and I promised myself that I would certainly not abandon ship before dinner.

 Information slips were left in our cabins about our adventure in Cuba. It was suggested that  when ashore: “Don’t drink the water.” “Don’t put ice into your drinks.” “Exchange your money into CUCS (Cuban Money) at the pier.” And, “Take toilet paper with you wherever you go.”

5/5/18: Havana here we come. We sailed into Havana and saw the Morro (wall) built by the Spaniards in 1589 to protect the city from buccaneers, pirates and tourists. We walked 40 steps down to the the pier, exchanged our money and boarded a modern, air-conditioned bus which had come from China.  Yes, there was a bathroom on the bus, and, Yes, there was no toilet paper. “Rock and Roll” took on a new meaning. We were treated to the “Ultimate Highlights of Havana,” and our guide spoke English beautifully. As a matter of fact, most of the people in Cuba are more fluent in English than are some of our high school students in the States.

In the evening, we went to The Parisien Cabaret at the Hotel Nacional De Cuba which had been built by the Mafia in 1930. The Mafia had plans at that time to turn Havana into another Las Vegas. The Cabaret had a spectacular show which blended the Indo-American, Hispanic and African cultures that led to the Cuban culture of today.

Havana is a very safe city. There are no guns, no drugs, no knives and no scissors allowed. I don’t get the scissors part either.  But, Oh, those cars!  Beautiful, colorful sixty year old Chevys, Buicks, and Fords are everywhere, as are mechanics. A Chevy might have a Ford back and a German engine, but it runs! Kind of! The Cuban people are very industrious and very talented. They can take any toss-away and create imaginative works of  art accompanied by beautiful music, and they are very kind and friendly. The economy is terrible, but they make do. Doctors and teachers make more on tips as tour guides than they can in their professions. Much like teachers in Arizona.

5/6/18: Josh and Barbara’s 6th wedding anniversary.  Time for us to smoke some cigars!
We took the “Cuban Rum, Cigars, and Art” tour.  Cuba has some of the best rum and cigars in the world. We went to the Havana Club to get an informative talk on the proper way to light and smoke cigars, and drink rum.  I smoked my first and never-again puff of a cigar, and enjoyed the rum and coffee so much that I really don’t remember the art part of that tour.

When Josh and Barbara showered to get ready for their anniversary dinner the smoke alarm in their cabin went off, so everyone on the ship knew they were celebrating. People came down from the Bridge and from Security. The only person missing was Groucho Marx.  It was quite a party!

5/7/18:  A day at sea.

Cienfuegos, Cuba here we come.  To be continued——

RUM AND CIGARS. IT MUST BE CUBA

5/3/18:  The first leg of my trip to Cuba meant flying a puddle jumper to Phoenix, and then taking a direct flight to Miami , where the ship to Cuba was berthed. The plan was to rendezvous with my son, Josh, and daughter-in-law, Barbara, who were flying in from Washington, DC.  

Settling into my aisle seat on American Airlines, I exchanged pleasantries with an attractive woman who was sitting next to the window. The middle seat was empty. Suddenly, an ominous shadow was cast over my seat, and a voice barked, “Move over!” I looked up and saw a very tall, thin—-obviously angry—woman glaring at me. I replied, “If you step back, I will step into the aisle, so you can get into YOUR middle seat.” She then growled at the woman who was sitting next to the window, “I hope you aren’t planning to go the bathroom during the flight, because I don’t like to be disturbed.”

The nice passenger replied, “I can’t promise you that I won’t get up.” However, she was either too  polite or cowed to ask, “What will you do to me if I have to go the bathroom.” At that, I looked for the flight attendant, so I could order an empty coffee can for my seat-mate. However, the flight attendant had gone into hiding as soon as she heard the exchange.

We quickly buckled our seatbelts, and then quickly unbuckled when the pilot announced, “Because of tornados and bad weather heading East, there will be a delay. Then he announced, “The delay will be either for 1/2 an hour or one or two hours.” I shouted, “Do we get a vote?”  After all, it was my birthday.  

The pilot ignored my cries but he then said, “For those of you who want to stretch your legs, you can get off the plane. You can stay or go, but if you get off, you have to take all of your belongings with you—including what’s in the overhead compartments.”

I stayed on the plane, ran around and made some new friends—the smart ones who stayed on the plane. By the time all of the passengers got off and were counted, they were asked to get back on the plane and had to be checked in again. After everyone returned, we waited for another hour. “So,When are we going to leave?” I asked the flight attendant, who had come out of hiding. And she said, “You mean today?”

We finally took off. The middle seat woman was fast asleep, and the woman next to the window had her legs crossed. Our plane was 2 hours late arriving in Miami. However, every good story should have a happy ending.

My American Airline flight from Phoenix arrived at exactly the same time that Josh and Barbara’s American Airline flight from Washington, DC had arrived. Obviously, the bad weather had blown them in the right direction. And, their luggage arrived in Miami on the turnstile next to mine. All 6 suitcases arrived and we piled into a taxi headed for our overnight stay in a Miami hotel. So far so good.

Tomorrow, the ship sails for Cuba.  

To be continued——-

Esther Blumenfeld