Monday, January 18, 2010

crow in your face

Today's word is "roosters" -- a word in two parts.

The first part you have heard from every other blogger since the flag was first planted in Blogland: Mexico is a veritable wall of sound -- not the Phil Spector type.  That is not a criticism -- merely an observation.

My recent return to Melaque has given me an opportunity to hear Mexico with new ears.  And hear it I have.

The symbol of the Mexican sound is the rooster.  It is no coincidence that a proud rooster graces the cover of The People's Guide to Mexico

Roosters are almost everywhere.  Flocks of hens tended by a solitary king of the heap.

I live in a rural community.  10,000 people live in Melaque.  But most of us live as if we owned 40 acres and a mule, and covered our gingham-trimmed walls with photographs of our long line of agrarian ancestors.

Horses.  Goats.  Mules.  Cattle.  Sheep.  You can find them all within a few blocks of my house.  But that barnyard mob is like the good child: best seen and not heard.

Not so the cock-a-doodle-doo set.  As showy as a rooster may be -- and some would put Liberace to shame, he is best known for his non-Caruso voice.

I re-discovered that joy Saturday night.  At some point in the dark of the Dylanesque night, I heard the distant crow of a lone cock.  Then another.  And another.  Drawing closer and closer.  Then passing over and beyond like some fowl Doppler Effect.

Each rooster waiting patiently for his turn to answer a perceived competitor's threat to pull a Clinton on his flock.  Almost as inevitable as The Wave at a football game.

In some ideal land, roosters may merely greet the dawn and then go about their regular sultan duties.  Not here.  Crowing is a 24-hour duty.  Territory must be defended. 

These boys are just a few genes short of being fighting cocks.  And some of the crowing comes from that odd breed of rooster awaiting his brief life as a champion.

But not all roosters are quite that disturbing.  And that brings us to the second part of today's blog.

My friend Roy is visiting from Nevada.  You remember him.  Along with his beautiful wife Nancy, he visited me at the beach house in July. 

On Sunday morning, we ate breakfast at Rooster's restaurant, a breakfast gathering spot for Canadians -- and a sprinkling of Americans.

No loud crowing there.  Just the slow rhythm of Sunday breakfast.  Eggs Benedict for the two of us.  (And, yes, I know.  That is not the way to start losing my Oregon-layered pounds.)  Not an outstanding dish, but good enough to make up for a rooster-challenged night.

I realize that roosters were not what you expected to hear about today.  I promised something else.

But, if you want to know what the future holds, I should have an answer for you tomorrow.

I promise.


Alan said...

Let me see. One month in Oregon, Roy and Nancy visit on your first day back. Hmmm. They are there to help you move back? They are there for a gal pal? You are going to return to "the company"? You have a big surgery coming? Oh, I guess Carly Simon has the answer

"We can never know about the days to come
But we think about them anyway
And I wonder if I'm really with you now
Or just chasing after some finer day.

Anticipation, Anticipation
Is making me late
Is keeping me waiting

And I tell you how easy it is to be with you
And how right your arms feel around me.
Bit I rehearsed those words just late last night
When I was thinking about how right tonight might be.

Anticipation, Anticipation
Is making me late
Is keeping me waiting

And tomorrow we might not be together
I'm no prophet, I don't know natures way
So I'll try to see into your eyes right now
And stay right here, 'cause these are the good old days

We'll see tomorrow.

Unknown said...

Maybe a new blog is coming.... New life, same location? All things are possible, mi amigo.

Theresa in Mèrida said...

The roosters reminded of one the houses we rented, the next door neighbors were a delightful elderly couple but they had 4 pet roosters, who of course, crowded at all hours.
I think you missed performing so much that you are running away and joining the circus!

ps you can buy ear plugs at the hardware store they are callled tapons.

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

Have you become a chicken-whisperer?

Do you have visions in feathers?

Do you divine strange meanings in midnight cocka-doodle-do's?

Which came first, Cotton's powers of poultry inter-subjective communication, or the egg?

A. N. Moose

Anonymous said...

you did not promise it would be on monday-you said better left for a monday or tuesday. so tomorrow is your deadline ;-)

how nice that you have friends visiting already. now you need to meet babs before she heads back to sma.

i finally got the pictures put on a cd so i can e-mail them to you. i will let steve do it tonight as i have not yet mastered that technique.

enjoy your warm weather.


Joe S. said...

Eggs Benedict?

Chrissy y Keith said...

I dont know how it started that roosters only crow in the morning. It would be very rare if that were the case. Cocks are very territorial and crow constantly while awake.

Islagringo said...

I'm sure this post was fraught with hidden innuendo and hints of the announcement to come. I'm just not clever enough to have picked up on them though. I'll wait with all the rest for the morrow.

Holly said...

How frustrating that we have to wait another day for the news. Of course, I shouldn't expect anything less.

Have caught up recently over a period of time with laughter, sobbing, smirks & sighs of envy.

Tell Roy hello & he can have a "ship" drink for me.