The sun is setting to the brassy strains of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Hosanna from his Requiem.
For Steve to be pleased while listening to anything by Lloyd Webber (rather, Lord Lloyd-Webber) is a wonder in itself. But that is a tale for another day.
I have pulled out the Bose headphones in a very un-Mexican gesture.
My neighbor to the east is having his roof re-done. He is currently grading papers in Iowa. So, he is not serendaed all day long by Mexican radio DJs, all of whom seem to have graduated from the Telenovela School of Overacting. But we are.
Now that the sun has set, only the swallows nesting in the rafters of the patio will hear Placido extol the hope of the resurrection.
And the young Mexican couple to the east, renting from the absent BC couple who own that house. (You have already met the front bumper of the BC couple's car.)
It is the Mexican couple that causes me to don headphones on this semi-sticky evening. Even in the unlikely event they love Lloyd Webber more than any other music, they have a right to a peaceful evening in their home.
Earlier in the day, I witnessed another Mexican custom that I have seen several times before -- as has anyone who lives in or visits Mexico. The Unusually Dangerous Activity Conducted With Absolute Aplomb.
When I opened the front gate this morning I was greeted with the sight of a metal ladder leaning up against the concrete utility pole in front of the house. The cable guy was installing service for the Mexican couple neighbors.
When I looked closer, I realized he had his head stuck not only amongst the cable and telephone lines, but also the electrical lines.
Now, I am not a safety engineer, but I seem to recall that we learned in high school physics about the necessary elements to close an electrical circuit. I was positive I was about to see a Mr. Science experiment on my front walk.
I then did what any good blogger would do: I ducked into the house to get my camera.
When I returned, he was gone. I briefly considered the possibiliy that the cable guy was dead on our upper floor deck.
I was wrong. He was talking to the neighbors.
Safety does not appear to be a prime objective in completing a job in Mexico. The completion is more important than the details.
Looking at that ladder reminded me of a similar post on Without a Net. The first post I read on Erika's web last July was "Stairway to Heaven" -- her musings on occupational safety. Looking at that post, I realize I cannot answer why these obvious safety hazards occur any more than she could.
I do know one thing though. Placido Domingo should be singing about the resurrection to the young fellows who, in their pursuit of a paycheck, daily do their best to attain a hairdo like Albert Einstein -- with few of the accompanying brains.
[If you are interested in hearing a very lo-fi version of Placidio Domingo's performance of the Hosanna, you can hear it here at about 3:04.]
For Steve to be pleased while listening to anything by Lloyd Webber (rather, Lord Lloyd-Webber) is a wonder in itself. But that is a tale for another day.
I have pulled out the Bose headphones in a very un-Mexican gesture.
My neighbor to the east is having his roof re-done. He is currently grading papers in Iowa. So, he is not serendaed all day long by Mexican radio DJs, all of whom seem to have graduated from the Telenovela School of Overacting. But we are.
Now that the sun has set, only the swallows nesting in the rafters of the patio will hear Placido extol the hope of the resurrection.
And the young Mexican couple to the east, renting from the absent BC couple who own that house. (You have already met the front bumper of the BC couple's car.)
It is the Mexican couple that causes me to don headphones on this semi-sticky evening. Even in the unlikely event they love Lloyd Webber more than any other music, they have a right to a peaceful evening in their home.
Earlier in the day, I witnessed another Mexican custom that I have seen several times before -- as has anyone who lives in or visits Mexico. The Unusually Dangerous Activity Conducted With Absolute Aplomb.
When I opened the front gate this morning I was greeted with the sight of a metal ladder leaning up against the concrete utility pole in front of the house. The cable guy was installing service for the Mexican couple neighbors.
When I looked closer, I realized he had his head stuck not only amongst the cable and telephone lines, but also the electrical lines.
Now, I am not a safety engineer, but I seem to recall that we learned in high school physics about the necessary elements to close an electrical circuit. I was positive I was about to see a Mr. Science experiment on my front walk.
I then did what any good blogger would do: I ducked into the house to get my camera.
When I returned, he was gone. I briefly considered the possibiliy that the cable guy was dead on our upper floor deck.
I was wrong. He was talking to the neighbors.
Safety does not appear to be a prime objective in completing a job in Mexico. The completion is more important than the details.
Looking at that ladder reminded me of a similar post on Without a Net. The first post I read on Erika's web last July was "Stairway to Heaven" -- her musings on occupational safety. Looking at that post, I realize I cannot answer why these obvious safety hazards occur any more than she could.
I do know one thing though. Placido Domingo should be singing about the resurrection to the young fellows who, in their pursuit of a paycheck, daily do their best to attain a hairdo like Albert Einstein -- with few of the accompanying brains.
[If you are interested in hearing a very lo-fi version of Placidio Domingo's performance of the Hosanna, you can hear it here at about 3:04.]
