This Cum That
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I write from Blanco Y Cafe in San Pedro. Coffee shop cum art gallery cum artists studio cum internet cafe. It’s a shame the United States won the revolution or we’d still use the word cum. And what a beautiful word it is. I wonder who’s jack-assed idea it was to get rid of it. Musta been Jefferson … damn yank. You travel anywhere else in the former United Kingdom and you’ll see cum all over the place. Book store cum map shop. Bakery cum deli. This cum that. Point being, this place has become my main haunt. And recently – gracias a dios – I’ve been seeing fewer and fewer gossip slinging fresas and more laptop slinging hipster kids in PanAms. This is a pleasant change not only because fresas give me anxiety, but also, now when I open up my iTunes, there’s almost always three or four other computers on the network. Which sometimes adds up to nearly 200 gigabytes of music to explore. And no one puts passwords on their music collections. I ♥ my generation. Unfortunately, we mostly have the same taste in music, which is more ego-inflation and back patting than auditory discovery, but if you’re looking for some new tunes, I direct you to The Chingonest who has put together an amazing compilation of tracks with some pretty clever descriptions. Waylon Jennings is the gringo Vincente Fernandez – kills me. Speaking of music. Each of my classes – no matter their level – are given a CD with 18 songs in English. The idea is that when class starts to get a tad monotonous or the students are losing concentration, you pull it out and interpret the lyrics. By now I’ve had to help “interpret” the lyrics of at least half the songs about six times. The contents of the CD you ask …
But here’s what’s incredible. I always leave it up to my students which song(s) they’d like to listen to first. The same two songs are always chosen. 100% of the time. For The First Time by Rod Stewart and then Complicated by Avril Lavigne – who I was told yesterday afternoon, by a middle aged industrial engineer, is probably the most talented songwriter today. It’s all too much for me too handle. But my students appear to be more than content with the lines:
And if my students are content, I’m content. My apologies, but a brief respite from our normal programming to bring you part of a gem of a conversation taking place at the table next to mine. I know, not polite to eaves-drop, whatever. Only a few of you will appreciate this, but there’s a certain stereotypical fat, balding, gold chain and sunglass wearing, hair sticking out of his buttoned down shirt, type of guy here in Mexico who’s got the foulest mouth you could ever imagine. And one of them happens to be sitting right next to me. You never see this sort of thing in the US, not even in New York. Maybe I’ll try to translate. Here’s what he’s saying at this very moment, verbatim:
Not quite the conversation you hear at most coffee shop/art galleries outside Mexico. As an aside, telling someone off in Spanish – especially the Mexican variant – is much more fun and rewarding than English.
No wait. That’s not it. I’m supposed to make a list of 43 things I want to do and then I’m supposed to talk about those things. And I’m supposed to talk about the things of others. And I’m supposed to compare my things with their things. And essentially, through all of this, I’m supposed to prove to myself that I’m a better person than everyone else. But the real point being, now that I can spend so much time talking about what I want to do, there’s one more excuse to not doing them. So each day now I plan on spending about two hours telling the three people who have so far looked at my profile what I would be doing with my life if I were not talking about what I would like to be doing with my life. Then I will read the unrealistic day dreams of others and feel comforted by our shared self-deception. Then I will come here and repeat myself, because face it, you guys just can be counted on when it comes to clicking links. And besides, some idiot put 24 hours into one day. Still feeling the need to convince myself of some sort of accomplishment, I will add another book to my All Consuming list. (of course, one of the most popular books on all consuming is Getting Things Done) The reading alone is sure to keep me impoverished. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll spend my evenings reading Lifehacker and 43 Folders to stay up to date on the very latest in productivity technology just in case some decade I’d actually like to produce something And of course I’ll be bringing my laptop into the bathroom with me. No reason to lose five minutes which could be simultaneously spent blogging our updating my gravatar. If any of you need help on becoming more effecient while doing nothing, just let me know. |









Air Supply rules and 43things.com sucks.
Always dualistic Bobbo.
Elenamary is right, most Mexican hipsters were Fresas in another life. Fresas (unfortunately) are just another outstretch of a hipster, much like a “starving artists”, a “literati”, or a “fratster hipster” are part of the hipster family tree. If not, I suggest you check out “The Field Guide to the Urban Hipster.” It’s fucking hilarious.
Verbal chingazos en espanol are ten times vulgar than in English.
Oso, I suggest you Google “Our Tunes” if you’re going to be in San Pedro. You’ll thank me. Perhaps it will make up for my that Jennings/Fernandez reference–forgive me, amigo, I was drunk when I wrote that, really.
Elenamary, I know the dude that created Consumating.com. He’s this Austin white hipster dude–actually, if he lived in Mexico, he’d be a total fresa. In fact, I’ve been told I talk like a fresa when I talk in Spanish. Hijole.
I just need to be more efficient in general. Writing papers used to never take me this long JUST to get started. I think I like the new gravatar.
EMC, I think somewhere deep inside of me is a fresa screaming to get out. Plus, she wants to spend daddy’s money.
EM,
Have missed you too. Hope the exams are going splendidly. And of course hipsters are fresas … if you’re talking about class. I was talking about style and pronunciation. Superficial I know … never claimed I wasn’t. Same goes back home … you’ve got rich kids who go to Urban Outfitters and you’ve got rich kids who go to Gap. They’re all still rich kids though.
I don’t know how I feel about the new gravatar either. I needed change though. I still look unhappy. I wish I could look as happy as Cindylu looks in her gravatar. What is she doing in hers? It looks like she’s trying to flash us with her shirt on.
EMC,
Supposedly ourTunes runs into some pedos over wireless networks. It used to be so good when it was integrated into iTunes itself.
Cindylu,
I recommend getting a 43 Things account. That way you and I can talk about how you should start writing a paper. I’ll let HP leave the comment offering to be your daddy.
Are you sticking with Allconsuming, even though you no longer get credit if someone clicks through to Amazon?
http://www.consumating.com is full of hipsters, I think I’m going to choke. Seriously, I mean I LOVE the Mars Volta and Arcade Fire as much as the next guy but I’m not going to buy a satchel, black-rimmed glasses, one-size-too-small sweaters and socially-aware pins to prove it.
Georganna,
I’m not sure if your comment was for me or Elena, but I haven’t checked into consumating since I opened my account. My girlfriend wasn’t really thrilled that I went to a “dating website.” Credit for clicks to Amazon wouldn’t really mean much for me so long as people kept saying they’d do me.
Bobbo,
Wutchyoo sayin ’bout my satchel foo?
Oso, I do have a 43 things account. I just haven’t gotten around to putting anything on it. Do I really want people to know how much of a slacker I am? I’m fine with blogging about what I’m supposed to be doing. Oh yeah, and I’m fine with spending HP’s money, as long as he doesn’t require anything in return (i.e. registering as a Republican or putting a Dubya sticker on my car).
i dunno what you foolios are talking about. Las Katsup is SO much better than Arcade Fire.
That reminds me of an old joke:
A papa tomato, a mama tomato, and a baby tomato are walking down the street…
ah..nevermind.
I’m completely embarrased to admit that I remember the lyrics to a few of those Air Supply songs but I swear I don’t have any of their cds and no mp3s on the pc. I swear.
PS – I think that Gravatar is kinda intersting. Is that like your sexy pose? I have this picture in my mind of what the full photo would look like. Oso standing against a wall with one leg bent & the sandal on the wall.
Re chingados: the most obscene Spanish I’ve ever heard was from a Gujarati grocer supervising the unloading of a truck in Houston. Even the mexican guys doing the unloading looked embarrassed, and it’s hard to embarrass a mexican trucker.
I’m told that what I saw was perfectly in keeping with Indian linguistic practice: in Mumbai everyone speaks at least four languages and the first thing they learn in each of them is how to peel the paint off the walls.
My Indian informants also tell me that no western languages match the colorful use of metaphor in South Asian swearing.
Cum eh? lol!