Spider

My Tío Nacho (short for Ignacio) called me araña, spider, when I was a kid. It made sense then because I was very skinny, almost wiry, white-skinned, and had blonde hair. He said I reminded him of a newborn spider, and then he would pinch me. He would pinch me to simulate a spider bite.

Now I have grey hairs, my belly is rounder and my uncle has recently died from a heart attack. A month earlier my paternal grandfather, Ignacio Navarro, passed away during his noon nap. He was 98 and healthy but had lost his hearing--or so he claimed. He also had 22 children and at least 120 grand- and great-grand-children. He was a peaceful man and valued family. He would tell me, “See what I have spawned,” as he gestured to a wall of photos, then exclaim “puro Navarro!”

It was November 1st when I received the news about my uncle. Earlier in the evening I had been in Spanish Harlem celebrating el “Dia de los Muertos.” Nov. 1st was also my mother’s 59th birthday—the cycle of life.

Mexico doesn’t celebrate Halloween; instead on Nov. 2 we celebrate/remember our departed loved ones. In-home altars are erected with photos, food and other favorite items of the departed. To help the dead find their way back to us, candles and incense are lit, and cempasúchiles (marigolds) with their sweet scent are placed everywhere (the sent also wards off bad spirits). The night ends with a traditional visit to the grave of the departed.

Mexico’s ancestors did not fear death. They saw life as a journey—an earthly body was just one phase. Therefore, it is no surprise that the national figure which represents the duality of our existence is the skeleton. I view the calavera as our essential self stripped of all superficialities (thus, the title of this blog: the calavera chronicles).

The goal is not to fear death but to celebrate life—to continuously look to the next adventure. To my mother, I say, “live fearlessly.” To my grandfather and uncle, I say, “see you in the next life; I will be the white spider.”

Lost

Lost is TV at its greatest (Wednesdays at 9 pm, ABC)! Have you seen it? This is the second season. Basically, it’s about a group of plane crash survivors and their experiences on a mysterious island--which every day seems to have more people living on it. I am hooked because it serves as a metaphor for the status of our culture--Are we "lost" as a group? I believe our social fabric is tearing apart and we are all desperately trying to hold it together to survive. What does it mean to be American in 2005?

People have likened the show to the book the Lord of the Flies. There is also speculation that the characters are not “lost” but in purgatory, such as Dante’s Inferno. Each island inhabitant has a story and the development of their character leads to revealing their “demon.” In essence, each character is paying for past sins but with the chance of redemption. This theme has evolved in the current (second) season, embodied in the slogan, “everything happens for a reason.” It is a clever thread that intertwines each character’s fate, leading the viewer to the conclusion that the crash was inevitable and that everyone’s survival (or redemption) is tied to the group.

The main character in the show is "Jack," a doctor and the "'reluctant" leader. He is positioned as a “man of science," the rational one. Then there is "John," a “man of faith," who believes he (and everyone) has been given a second chance at a new life. He represents faith and spirituality.

These two characters have opposing philosophies on what to do to survive. It is building a tension--dialectic--which is very interesting to me because I have not resolved my own conflict between Science and Faith. I have not resolved the mysteries of my island…

Spring, Summer, now Fall

Time goes by so fast. We occupy ourselves with making money, buying things, paying bills, and every once in a while we stop to smell the roses. Robert Frost but it best in “Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening,” “The woods are lovely, dark and deep./But I have promises to keep,/And miles to go before I sleep,/And miles to go before I sleep.”

I must admit, I did not take full advantage of all the days in the last few months, but I did manage a good run. First, I took a much needed vacation in the Dominican Republic and stayed at the Paradisus Resort (pictures). It was an all-inclusive deal, which worked out perfectly because my only goals were to rest, get some sun, read a book and have some coconuts with run (lots of rum). The beach was so perfect it felt like a Corona beer commercial. May is the tourist off-season so there weren’t that many people but enough to make some new friends. The strangest part is that the resort had a small zoo (which is unlocked 24hrs—long story) that included a camel and some monkeys—YES, monkeys!

My next notable experience was a weekend in Boston that included a drive with auto journalists in convertibles to the town of Kennebunkport, Maine to eat lobster. This was my second year attending this event. Strangely enough, George Bush senior has a summer home here and Martha Bush was seen leaving the Inn as we were arriving (she must have been warned). The event is known as the Ragtop Ramble and is preceded by an evening cruise of the Boston Harbor. It was pleasurable to be on a boat, beer in hand, on a cool summer evening admiring the Boston skyline. During the day, I followed the Freedom Trail and hung out at Paul Revere’s house.

Other worthy mentions: A trip to Sleepy Hollow (from which the titled story got its inspiration--the street signs have the logo of a headless horseman) and to neighboring Tarrytown, which has a “castle.” Both are very small towns surviving on tourism and make for charming one-day excursion. Another favorite event occurred in the Bear Mountain State Park, which is not too far from the West Point Military Academy. The event was a Ride and Drive for journalist to test drive FMC products. The funfest included a room which housed a working merry-go-round—nothing funnier than journalists riding a carousel when no one is looking.

The last thing I’d like to mention is my opportunity to drive the famed Ford GT from Boston to NYC. The car is amazing with 500 horses of power. I always say, if you can’t have horses, you should have horse power. The car was black and looked like a stealth bomber. But it was not stealth enough to save me from my first speeding ticket in over 10 years. Having been clocked at 90 MPH, while only in 2nd gear, I gladly accepted the ticket.

May -- Time of Change

Everything changes. It is the nature of things. Only our memories and emotions remain static. This creates a problem, a dichotomy, and I am reminded of the book “Who moved my Cheese.” We are always looking for answers, but usually we need solutions instead. This is why I try to stay in a process of change; to incorporate it in my life. I try to reinvent myself continually to encourage growth. One reason is that there is no use denying change. The second reason is it is more exciting…but it is not easy.

I turned 35 in January. I am told this is supposed to be a milestone year. I think it is a beginning, nothing related to time, more related to momentum. As you may know, last year was a time of great change, yet things are not ready to be settled.

On the home front, returning to California for Christmas vacation was great. The sun, family, friends, and some rest give me time to reflect. It made me realize how much changes in one year, yet how much stays the same and where you end up depends on momentum. My mother and siblings are stable and doing fine. However, my nephew and nieces continue to grow, the number is up to 13. Two major milestones: Julia Reyburn was born on Thanksgiving Day. My oldest nephew John turned 19. The blessing is that they are all healthy, safe and I love them all.

Yet returning to a never-ending NYC winter took a toll on my enthusiasm. I didn’t let it get me down. Instead I regrouped, knowing 2005 would continue to be a year of transition. Three of my friends will be married by the end of summer. And one of those will move back to California, creating a vacuum of a close male friend. Worst yet, the Chef of Zona Rosa, Adrian Leon, has left to work in Philadelphia. Good for him, bad for me. Even the bartender Nester is planning to leave. Now I need to find a new hangout and increase my circle of friends.

Change is in the air at work also. We have new players and some old friends will be leaving. It is a stressful time.

However, its spring and the city instantly transforms: The trees and tulips blossom overnight. Central Park becomes green. Cafes spill out into the streets. People come out of hibernation. They walk the streets at all hours of the day—well, more than in winter. Fashion moves out of black and into colors (or at least during the day). The best part is the added sun and general enthusiasm have increased my spirit and fortified my will.

Everything changes. I persevere, knowing this will all lead to something greater.

Welcome

As many of you know, I have been chronicaling my experiences since moving to New York in January 2004. My "reports" have served to keep me in touch with each of you but also as a log of my development.

The purpose of this web site is to provide order to my postings, especially since the list of reciepiants has grown and many of your systems have started to block it out as "spam."

Free feel to share with others, as I have shared with you. My hope is that my experiences can make you laugh, cry, understand me better, but more importantly, keep us in touch. Although it may feel like it at times, none of us are alone, we are all interconnected.

March--Spain, Trains, and Christo Gates

This is the first report of 2005; yet I will begin with a story from last year—which many of you have been asking about.

Spain: I had never been to Europe but as part of my goal to introduce positive change in my life I decided to visit Spain. The trip lasted two weeks and covered six cities. I spent my time in Museums, Churches, Mosques, Bars and walking—lots of walking—and trains. I was moved by Goya’s “Pinturas Negras” series at the Prado Museum and Picasso’s Guernica; fascinated by the architectural wonders of Gaudi in Barcelona (especially the Sagrada Familia cathedral, which is still under construction since 1821); and mesmerized by the transmogrified Muslim buildings such as the Mezquita in Cordoba and the Alhambra in Granada. I made a pilgrimage of the famous bullrings al a Don Quixote. And made many friends in Flamenco bars. But most importantly, I had time to reflect.

Spain is a survivor due to its adapting nature. It has seen many wars and many rulers. Its traditions are an accumulation of the best its many citizens had to offer. Some of its buildings are over 800 yrs old, yet they endure because they accepted change when it came--Mosques became Christian Churches or forts became palaces. Spain still has a siesta so time runs at a different pace—a pace that lets you enjoy life. America is only 200 yrs old. I think we have a lot to learn about adapting to life, instead of trying to commercialize it. Last year was a time of great change for me and I adapted, without accepting it. My trip helped put me in the right frame of mind to close the loop.

I learned I am very fortunate to have the life and friends I do. But I am fortunate because I work so hard at it. I try not to get stagnant so I constantly introduce change and new experiences and friends. Sometimes I get discouraged, but I persevere because it is the way of life. The details of Spain are too immense to put in one email but the lessons are not. On my last day in Madrid, while returning from visiting the bullring, I happened upon a procession or parade with sheep and horses. It is a tradition as old as the city. And I thought it a fitting end to such a great trip because as much as I experienced, drank, walked and lived, I realized that in the end, we can either choose to be sheep or shepards.

Final thought: Some of you know about the Christo Gates. It is an enormous art installation in Central Park. It has sparked a lot of controversy regarding its value as art. My take it that it is a testament to one couple’s vision that took nearly 30 years to fulfill. It is important to live your dreams today because tomorrow may never come, yet we must always keep in mind that some dreams are worth waiting for.

As a parting gift, I give you an original poem:

Reflection on Walking in a Crowded Street

There’s a leaf
moving through
the streets.

It moves west
then moves east
some times stops
to look around.

Nobody notices.
It has no name.

The wind blows
so it moves,
west, then east,
then stops.

The sky is bright
but so far away.
The ground, however,
is so warm and close.

Nobody notices.

The wind blows.
The leaf moves
west, then east,
some times south,
and sometimes north,
but nobody notices.