So last October I got a call from my buddy Daniel Singletary. He said he and my other friend Ben Coale were going camping and they wanted to know if they could borrow my tent. They didn't need any other camping equipment. Just the tent. When I gave them the tent, they seemed real excited about their trip, but they were kinda coy about where they were going and what they were up to.
Today, I found out where they went. The website is linked here:
G&L Nudist Campground
There is a picture gallery available on the site, but I don't feel comfortable viewing it from work (or in front of women and children)(or on a full stomach).
Also, I don't want my tent back.
Welcome to Adam's Razor, most notable for ranking ahead of Facebook, Google, and Youtube when listed in alphabetical order.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
On Cuba p. Deux
Long time subscribers to this blog will already know my feelings on Cuba (the leadership, not the citizens), Casto, Che, &c. They were (and are) a gang of communist thugs. You've probably seen this image before (without the caption of course):
It's Che Guevera. For those of you who aren't familiar with him, here is a brief summary of his crimes against humanity (copied and pasted from NRO):
The fog of time and the strength of anti-anti-Communism have obscured the real Che. Who was he? He was an Argentinian revolutionary who served as Castro's primary thug. He was especially infamous for presiding over summary executions at La Cabana, the fortress that was his abattoir. He liked to administer the coup de grace, the bullet to the back of the neck. And he loved to parade people past El Paredon, the reddened wall against which so many innocents were killed. Furthermore, he established the labor-camp system in which countless citizens — dissidents, democrats, artists, homosexuals — would suffer and die. This is the Cuban gulag. A Cuban-American writer, Humberto Fontova, described Guevara as "a combination of Beria and Himmler." Anthony Daniels once quipped, "The difference between [Guevara] and Pol Pot was that [Guevera] never studied in Paris."
Amazingly, the Left has romanticized this guy as a freedom fighter and friend of the people. Robert Redford produced the sickening movie "Motorcycle Diaries" glorifying this killer. To quote Tony Daniels: "It is as if someone were to make a film about Adolf Hitler by portraying him as a vegetarian who loved animals and was against unemployment. This would be true, but rather beside the point."
So why am I posting this today?
Well, thankfully Che has been burning in Hell for over 42 years, but his daughter, Aleida Guevara, is alive and in the news today. You might recall from my 3/3/10 post entitled "The Wristband" the tragic story of Orlando Tamayo. He was a Cuban prisoner of conscience, who died after a lengthy hunger strike protesting the numerous beatings and tortures at the hands of Cuban prison authorities. Some moron gave Aleida Guevara a microphone and here is a brief summary of the nonsense she spat out:
In Brazil, the daughter of legendary Cuban revolutionary Ernesto “Che” Guevara called hunger striking dissidents in Cuba common criminals. In remarks after a university lecture in northeastern Brazil, Aleida Guevara said that deceased dissident Zapata had economic gain in mind and he (Zapata) was a common criminal who went on a hunger strike not to demand freedom but to demand a television set, a telephone and a kitchen.
Aleida Guevara is a liar, and having a monstrous father is no excuse. Romano Mussolini was a jazz pianist who turned out ok. Tamayo was a hero, whose main desire was to be free.
Aleida now moves to the top of my list: "Most Despised Progeny of Communist Murderers", ironically replacing her own daughter who offended us all with this photo just last year:
Vast portions of this post were stolen directly from the writings of Jay Nordlinger at "National Review". If you'd like more info on Che (or his screwed up offspring) I suggest you head over to NRO and do some reading.
 |
| From misc. |
It's Che Guevera. For those of you who aren't familiar with him, here is a brief summary of his crimes against humanity (copied and pasted from NRO):
The fog of time and the strength of anti-anti-Communism have obscured the real Che. Who was he? He was an Argentinian revolutionary who served as Castro's primary thug. He was especially infamous for presiding over summary executions at La Cabana, the fortress that was his abattoir. He liked to administer the coup de grace, the bullet to the back of the neck. And he loved to parade people past El Paredon, the reddened wall against which so many innocents were killed. Furthermore, he established the labor-camp system in which countless citizens — dissidents, democrats, artists, homosexuals — would suffer and die. This is the Cuban gulag. A Cuban-American writer, Humberto Fontova, described Guevara as "a combination of Beria and Himmler." Anthony Daniels once quipped, "The difference between [Guevara] and Pol Pot was that [Guevera] never studied in Paris."
Amazingly, the Left has romanticized this guy as a freedom fighter and friend of the people. Robert Redford produced the sickening movie "Motorcycle Diaries" glorifying this killer. To quote Tony Daniels: "It is as if someone were to make a film about Adolf Hitler by portraying him as a vegetarian who loved animals and was against unemployment. This would be true, but rather beside the point."
So why am I posting this today?
Well, thankfully Che has been burning in Hell for over 42 years, but his daughter, Aleida Guevara, is alive and in the news today. You might recall from my 3/3/10 post entitled "The Wristband" the tragic story of Orlando Tamayo. He was a Cuban prisoner of conscience, who died after a lengthy hunger strike protesting the numerous beatings and tortures at the hands of Cuban prison authorities. Some moron gave Aleida Guevara a microphone and here is a brief summary of the nonsense she spat out:
In Brazil, the daughter of legendary Cuban revolutionary Ernesto “Che” Guevara called hunger striking dissidents in Cuba common criminals. In remarks after a university lecture in northeastern Brazil, Aleida Guevara said that deceased dissident Zapata had economic gain in mind and he (Zapata) was a common criminal who went on a hunger strike not to demand freedom but to demand a television set, a telephone and a kitchen.
Aleida Guevara is a liar, and having a monstrous father is no excuse. Romano Mussolini was a jazz pianist who turned out ok. Tamayo was a hero, whose main desire was to be free.
Aleida now moves to the top of my list: "Most Despised Progeny of Communist Murderers", ironically replacing her own daughter who offended us all with this photo just last year:
 |
| From misc. |
Vast portions of this post were stolen directly from the writings of Jay Nordlinger at "National Review". If you'd like more info on Che (or his screwed up offspring) I suggest you head over to NRO and do some reading.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Fishing Trip to Abaco
I wanted to create one more slideshow with sound before I head overseas. It took me less than an hour from start to finish using the program: Picasa3. May God have mercy on the soul of anyone who tries to do this using Windows Movie Maker. I've seen viruses that are more user friendly...
American Airlines was running a special on airfare to Treasure Cay, Abaco, The Bahamas and I convinced some friends to go fishing with me. John Ruddock (my business partner), David Sconyers (my coworker at A.G. Edwards for 10 years), and Will Sconyers (Dave's son)were the attendees.
David had been to Abaco in the late 80's, but the other two had never been. We set it up to leave on Thursday, fish Friday, island hop and dive on Saturday, and return Sunday.
Everything but John's luggage arrived in Treasure Cay intact. I was secretly glad to see his luggage lost because I get sick pleasure from watching him freak out. We left the airport in a piece of crap car that I rented from a man named OC for $55 (cash) per day, no contract.
First stop was Terrance's conch stand in Dundas Town. Conch salad is a bahamian version of ceviche. Terrance makes his own hot sauce, Little Dog. Little Dog is the only sauce so hot it needs 2 slogans. 1. As you are wiping tears out of your eyes and sweat off your brow, Terrance taunts, "The little dog be barkin!" (insert thick bahamian accent). 2. When you begin to beg for water, with the same accent, "Little dog make you take off so fast you pass the space shuttle like she's STOPPED!". We all enjoyed, although the gastric effect it had on John ensured he'd had his last conch salad on this trip. The remainder of Thursday was uneventful.
Friday morning I dropped Dave and Will off to bonefish with Terrance, and took John to 2 airports and multiple clothing stores. His bags still hadn't arrived,he doubled the cost of his trip in the gift shops and we met back up with the other 2 around lunch.
Now I'd only ever been bonefishing once before. I caught so many fish before lunch that we quit fishing and spent the afternoon diving conchs and lobster. So I assumed that Dave and Will had wore themselves out reeling in fish. Alas, it seems I was lucky the first time, because they came home skunked. $250 is kind of expensive for a boat ride.
We sent them back to the house to lick their wounds and John and I spent the afternoon fishing. Let me rephrase, I spent the afternoon watching John have epileptic convulsions trying to cast a fly rod in 20 MPH wind. Finally after a couple hours, he landed a bonefish. I never made a cast! I didn't really care as I'd rather talk to Terrance then just about anyone else I know, so I had a big afternoon. To recap, 4 fisherman, $500 guide, 1 bonefish.
That night we went to an annual Bahamian festival: Junkanoo. Think: Tribal version of Marti Gras without the debauchery. The local kids dress up in wild costumes and march through the streets parade style playing the most unusual music I've ever heard. The streets were lined with onlookers and vendors selling Bahamian food. Sadly, we left the cameras at home so no photgraphic evidince exists. There are some pictures here: http://www.abaconian.com/mar1b1~1.pdf (see pages 12-14)
Saturday we planned to rent a boat in Marsh Harbour, head north to Guana Cay for lunch, then stop off in Hope Town to check out the lighthouse, finishing the day by diving for conch and lobster just off Cornish Cay. Since the fishing was a complete bust, the pressure was on for Saturday to salvage the trip. You can see in the embeded slideshow that everything went perfect on Guana Cay and Hope Town. We ate lunch at Nippers, walked the beach a bit, hit Hope Town, climbed the Lighthouse, and headed south.
TO THE READER: THE REMAINDER OF THIS POST IS A ROMANTICIZED VERSION OF THE VARIOUS MISHAPS WE EXPERIENCED WHILE TRYING TO DIVE LOBSTERS AND CONCHS. IF YOU'D LIKE, YOU CAN PROCEED DIRECTLY TO THE SLIDE SHOW.
Now I'd been telling these guys for months that I knew where the lobsters were and diving them would not be a problem. I was a bit concerned about the water temperature, but beyond that I couldn't think of anything that could go wrong. After a 30 minute boat ride, we came to the spot where I thought the lobster habitats (plywood anchored to the ocean floor) should be. The lobsters hide under the habitats for protection from predators. I could tell these dudes were pretty skeptical that I could find a piece of plywood, in the middle of the ocean, with nothing to go on but my memory. I'm pleased to report that my 20-20 memory is still in perfect order and we found a habitat almost immediately.
You must free dive for the lobsters, no scuba. The water is 12-15 feet deep. So the first one in the water swims down and flips the trap (it's not a real trap, they can come and go as they wish). Then you shoot the lobsters with a hawaiian sling or a spear pole. No spearguns allowed. In 2002 Terrance and I killed 51 lobsters in a single afternoon. He is an underwater machine!
So here is the plan: Dave mans the boat, John, Will, and I are in the water. I'm to flip the trap, John is waiting at the surface with the spear, and he and Will are going to shuttle the lobsters back to the boat. At some point I'll give Will the flippers and he can go shoot a couple. The plan fell apart the second we hit the water. After nearly hyperventilating, I swim down flip the trap, and return to the surface way more exhausted then I should've been. Grab the spear from John and prepare to head back down. However, the ocean current was not a big fan of having the trap flipped so it saw fit to return it to its original position. #$%^&@!!!
I'm way too tired to try fliping that thing again, John has lost his snorkel, and Will is being swept out to see by the same current that de-flipped my trap. So Dave brings the boat around and we all climb in: cold, exhausted, and half drowned.
As I lay on the floor of the boat trying desperately to thaw out and catch my breath, I could only think one thing: "I didn't come all the way to the Bahamas to not catch fish and not dive lobsters. I could've done that at home."
Plan B: We are going to anchor the boat directly on top of the trap. I'm gonna swim down, flip the trap and use the ocean current to keep it flipped. Really all I'd have to do is stand it up, and let the current do the rest. So we get the boat positioned perfectly, I dive in, panic from the cold, and flip it the wrong way, AGAIN! Of course, the ocean deposits it right back where it started. @#$%^!!!
Thankfully, this time a couple lobsters reacted to the commotion and swam out of the trap. They hand me the spear and I'm off. I identify the larger of the two, grab a breath, and head down. Finally something goes right. I shoot this lobster perfectly. Too perfectly in fact. I have to return the spear w/lobster to the boat so they can remove it. In the meantime lobster #2 returns to the trap. @#$%^!!!
They drag me in the boat, and I'm wore out! They taunt me for being an idiot. I agree.
Next we put Will in the water. He decides to swim down without flipping the trap and take a couple blind shots into the habitat. No dice. Next we decide to swim down and tie a piece of rope to the trap so it can be lifted from the boat. So John Ruddock dives in, and using his momemtum reaches a maximum depth of 3 feet. I'm serious, I don't think his knees even got wet! If I were his wife, I'd be afraid to let him take baths. This dude is no swimmer. Finally, David (born 12/18/1954) enters the water, dives to the trap, ties the rope on, and surfaces with a somewhat smug look on his face. (I'll teach these whipersnappers how to dive.)
So I'm back in the water for the third time. I've sinced realized it takes a lot of your energy flipping that trap. With them lifting it with the rope, I was able to kill 2 more lobsters. So after 2+ hours, we had three lobsters. Not bad for fellas from Alabama. If things would've gone more smoothly, I think we probably could've got 10 or more. We scared off several of them with all the commotion. Oh well.
While I was chasing those last couple lobsters, I spotted some big conchs. Dave dives in a grabs the first one. I was proud of that guy. 15 feet is no easy dive when the water is 70 degrees. Will refuses to be out classed by his father, gets back in the water and grabs 5 conchs in less than 10 minutes.
Despite the various setbacks, we all agreed that this was the highlight of trip. We've got an hour till sunset, time to head in. We took a slight wrong turn heading back to Marsh Harbour, but on the whole, Saturday was nearly perfect. That night we cooked the conch/lobster and had a big feast.
Sunday we returned home uneventfully.
Here are photos:
Hope you enjoyed!!
Adam
American Airlines was running a special on airfare to Treasure Cay, Abaco, The Bahamas and I convinced some friends to go fishing with me. John Ruddock (my business partner), David Sconyers (my coworker at A.G. Edwards for 10 years), and Will Sconyers (Dave's son)were the attendees.
David had been to Abaco in the late 80's, but the other two had never been. We set it up to leave on Thursday, fish Friday, island hop and dive on Saturday, and return Sunday.
Everything but John's luggage arrived in Treasure Cay intact. I was secretly glad to see his luggage lost because I get sick pleasure from watching him freak out. We left the airport in a piece of crap car that I rented from a man named OC for $55 (cash) per day, no contract.
First stop was Terrance's conch stand in Dundas Town. Conch salad is a bahamian version of ceviche. Terrance makes his own hot sauce, Little Dog. Little Dog is the only sauce so hot it needs 2 slogans. 1. As you are wiping tears out of your eyes and sweat off your brow, Terrance taunts, "The little dog be barkin!" (insert thick bahamian accent). 2. When you begin to beg for water, with the same accent, "Little dog make you take off so fast you pass the space shuttle like she's STOPPED!". We all enjoyed, although the gastric effect it had on John ensured he'd had his last conch salad on this trip. The remainder of Thursday was uneventful.
Friday morning I dropped Dave and Will off to bonefish with Terrance, and took John to 2 airports and multiple clothing stores. His bags still hadn't arrived,he doubled the cost of his trip in the gift shops and we met back up with the other 2 around lunch.
Now I'd only ever been bonefishing once before. I caught so many fish before lunch that we quit fishing and spent the afternoon diving conchs and lobster. So I assumed that Dave and Will had wore themselves out reeling in fish. Alas, it seems I was lucky the first time, because they came home skunked. $250 is kind of expensive for a boat ride.
We sent them back to the house to lick their wounds and John and I spent the afternoon fishing. Let me rephrase, I spent the afternoon watching John have epileptic convulsions trying to cast a fly rod in 20 MPH wind. Finally after a couple hours, he landed a bonefish. I never made a cast! I didn't really care as I'd rather talk to Terrance then just about anyone else I know, so I had a big afternoon. To recap, 4 fisherman, $500 guide, 1 bonefish.
That night we went to an annual Bahamian festival: Junkanoo. Think: Tribal version of Marti Gras without the debauchery. The local kids dress up in wild costumes and march through the streets parade style playing the most unusual music I've ever heard. The streets were lined with onlookers and vendors selling Bahamian food. Sadly, we left the cameras at home so no photgraphic evidince exists. There are some pictures here: http://www.abaconian.com/mar1b1~1.pdf (see pages 12-14)
Saturday we planned to rent a boat in Marsh Harbour, head north to Guana Cay for lunch, then stop off in Hope Town to check out the lighthouse, finishing the day by diving for conch and lobster just off Cornish Cay. Since the fishing was a complete bust, the pressure was on for Saturday to salvage the trip. You can see in the embeded slideshow that everything went perfect on Guana Cay and Hope Town. We ate lunch at Nippers, walked the beach a bit, hit Hope Town, climbed the Lighthouse, and headed south.
TO THE READER: THE REMAINDER OF THIS POST IS A ROMANTICIZED VERSION OF THE VARIOUS MISHAPS WE EXPERIENCED WHILE TRYING TO DIVE LOBSTERS AND CONCHS. IF YOU'D LIKE, YOU CAN PROCEED DIRECTLY TO THE SLIDE SHOW.
Now I'd been telling these guys for months that I knew where the lobsters were and diving them would not be a problem. I was a bit concerned about the water temperature, but beyond that I couldn't think of anything that could go wrong. After a 30 minute boat ride, we came to the spot where I thought the lobster habitats (plywood anchored to the ocean floor) should be. The lobsters hide under the habitats for protection from predators. I could tell these dudes were pretty skeptical that I could find a piece of plywood, in the middle of the ocean, with nothing to go on but my memory. I'm pleased to report that my 20-20 memory is still in perfect order and we found a habitat almost immediately.
You must free dive for the lobsters, no scuba. The water is 12-15 feet deep. So the first one in the water swims down and flips the trap (it's not a real trap, they can come and go as they wish). Then you shoot the lobsters with a hawaiian sling or a spear pole. No spearguns allowed. In 2002 Terrance and I killed 51 lobsters in a single afternoon. He is an underwater machine!
So here is the plan: Dave mans the boat, John, Will, and I are in the water. I'm to flip the trap, John is waiting at the surface with the spear, and he and Will are going to shuttle the lobsters back to the boat. At some point I'll give Will the flippers and he can go shoot a couple. The plan fell apart the second we hit the water. After nearly hyperventilating, I swim down flip the trap, and return to the surface way more exhausted then I should've been. Grab the spear from John and prepare to head back down. However, the ocean current was not a big fan of having the trap flipped so it saw fit to return it to its original position. #$%^&@!!!
I'm way too tired to try fliping that thing again, John has lost his snorkel, and Will is being swept out to see by the same current that de-flipped my trap. So Dave brings the boat around and we all climb in: cold, exhausted, and half drowned.
As I lay on the floor of the boat trying desperately to thaw out and catch my breath, I could only think one thing: "I didn't come all the way to the Bahamas to not catch fish and not dive lobsters. I could've done that at home."
Plan B: We are going to anchor the boat directly on top of the trap. I'm gonna swim down, flip the trap and use the ocean current to keep it flipped. Really all I'd have to do is stand it up, and let the current do the rest. So we get the boat positioned perfectly, I dive in, panic from the cold, and flip it the wrong way, AGAIN! Of course, the ocean deposits it right back where it started. @#$%^!!!
Thankfully, this time a couple lobsters reacted to the commotion and swam out of the trap. They hand me the spear and I'm off. I identify the larger of the two, grab a breath, and head down. Finally something goes right. I shoot this lobster perfectly. Too perfectly in fact. I have to return the spear w/lobster to the boat so they can remove it. In the meantime lobster #2 returns to the trap. @#$%^!!!
They drag me in the boat, and I'm wore out! They taunt me for being an idiot. I agree.
Next we put Will in the water. He decides to swim down without flipping the trap and take a couple blind shots into the habitat. No dice. Next we decide to swim down and tie a piece of rope to the trap so it can be lifted from the boat. So John Ruddock dives in, and using his momemtum reaches a maximum depth of 3 feet. I'm serious, I don't think his knees even got wet! If I were his wife, I'd be afraid to let him take baths. This dude is no swimmer. Finally, David (born 12/18/1954) enters the water, dives to the trap, ties the rope on, and surfaces with a somewhat smug look on his face. (I'll teach these whipersnappers how to dive.)
So I'm back in the water for the third time. I've sinced realized it takes a lot of your energy flipping that trap. With them lifting it with the rope, I was able to kill 2 more lobsters. So after 2+ hours, we had three lobsters. Not bad for fellas from Alabama. If things would've gone more smoothly, I think we probably could've got 10 or more. We scared off several of them with all the commotion. Oh well.
While I was chasing those last couple lobsters, I spotted some big conchs. Dave dives in a grabs the first one. I was proud of that guy. 15 feet is no easy dive when the water is 70 degrees. Will refuses to be out classed by his father, gets back in the water and grabs 5 conchs in less than 10 minutes.
Despite the various setbacks, we all agreed that this was the highlight of trip. We've got an hour till sunset, time to head in. We took a slight wrong turn heading back to Marsh Harbour, but on the whole, Saturday was nearly perfect. That night we cooked the conch/lobster and had a big feast.
Sunday we returned home uneventfully.
Here are photos:
Hope you enjoyed!!
Adam
Monday, March 15, 2010
Hope Town Light House
This is the much awaited, 1st installment of my 434 part series "Photos taken atop a Lighthouse while wearing Random T-Shirts"!
I'll update this series whenever my photo is taken while I am at the top of a lighthouse wearing a random T-Shirt. How do I know it's gonna be a 434 part series? Easy, that is how many random T-shirts I have.
This particular lighthouse is in Hope Town, Elbow Cay, Abaco, The Bahamas. I've climbed it at least 4 times over the past 8 years. Sadly, photographic evidence only exists for two of those climbs...
Also, I'm not sure how I misfired so badly with my previous post. Somehow I used black type on a black background. I asked Christena to help me fix it. However, I've come to the conclusion that she got her Computer Science Degree from a mail order diploma mill. Oh well, if you want to read the text, highlight it with your mouse. Or ignore it and jump straight to the next post.
I'll update this series whenever my photo is taken while I am at the top of a lighthouse wearing a random T-Shirt. How do I know it's gonna be a 434 part series? Easy, that is how many random T-shirts I have.
This particular lighthouse is in Hope Town, Elbow Cay, Abaco, The Bahamas. I've climbed it at least 4 times over the past 8 years. Sadly, photographic evidence only exists for two of those climbs...
Also, I'm not sure how I misfired so badly with my previous post. Somehow I used black type on a black background. I asked Christena to help me fix it. However, I've come to the conclusion that she got her Computer Science Degree from a mail order diploma mill. Oh well, if you want to read the text, highlight it with your mouse. Or ignore it and jump straight to the next post.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Link
Last time I'll link a news article about political prisoners, Maybe...
Cuban hunger striker in hospital after passing out .
A Cuban hunger striker was receiving fluids and medical care in a government hospital Friday, a day after passing out at home, and has refused requests by other dissidents and religious leaders to abandon his protest.
Friday, March 5, 2010
[From: adam thomas] North Korean worker executed for passing on news
adam thomas spotted this on the guardian.co.uk site and thought you should see it.
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Note from adam thomas:
Dios Mio. I've heard about the price of rice in China, but firing squad for talking on a cell phone?!?
Posted from my phone
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To see this story with its related links on the guardian.co.uk site, go to http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/mar/04/north-korea-human-rights-execution
North Korean worker executed for passing on news
Information on price of rice given to defector in South Korea
Associated Press
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Belize: Same British crap, just tropical.
My 2nd blog post! My post from yesterday came off pretty well. It took me about 8 hours to figure out how to get the slideshow to work. Still having some sizing issues with "non-landscape" oriented pictures. No big deal...
For post number two, I'm trying to add audio to a slideshow. I think I've got this one completed in record time. Less than two hours.
This is a slideshow of my trip to Belize, with audio of me narrating the photos. I noticed that a few times I got a little bit ahead or behind the photos while doing the voice over. Hope to get it fine tuned before April 8th.
Also, I might need to hire a professional narrator. I have the looks for radio and the voice for silent movies from the 1920's.
With out further ado:
BTW, the title of this post was just to keep some consistency with yesterdays post. Belize was known as British Hondurus until the 1970's. Great country, good food, and English is the official language.
For post number two, I'm trying to add audio to a slideshow. I think I've got this one completed in record time. Less than two hours.
This is a slideshow of my trip to Belize, with audio of me narrating the photos. I noticed that a few times I got a little bit ahead or behind the photos while doing the voice over. Hope to get it fine tuned before April 8th.
Also, I might need to hire a professional narrator. I have the looks for radio and the voice for silent movies from the 1920's.
With out further ado:
BTW, the title of this post was just to keep some consistency with yesterdays post. Belize was known as British Hondurus until the 1970's. Great country, good food, and English is the official language.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The Wristband
My first blog post! 10 months after I joined this site I finally got around to putting up some content. I should probably start off kinda slow while I get a feel for this thing, but the whole purpose of this post is to learn how to put up a slideshow of photos. So no training wheels for me.
I'm headed to southeast-asia with my folks next month, and while there I'd like to keep everyone updated on what we are doing. I hope that over the next month I can get proficient enough with this site to make it work.
CUBA: THE SAME COMMUNIST CRAP, JUST TROPICAL.
One of the things I consider required reading is Jay Nordlinger's column on National Review Online. Every morning I check to see if he has published anything. One of his pet causes is the Cuban peoples' struggle for freedom. Several times a month he'll update that another journalist has died in the gulag, or some blogger was beaten for writing something on the internet.
In November 2007, Jay posted this:
"Thought you should know about this item from Havana: “Cuban police rounded up a group of young people wearing white rubber wristbands stenciled with the word ‘cambio,’ or ‘change,’ and held them for hours before releasing them without filing charges . . ."
What kind of regime is scared of white rubber wristbands stenciled with the word “change”? A totalitarian one, of course."
You can google "cambio bracelet" if you want more information. As it turns out, a group of Cuban emigrants out of Miami began selling the wristbands to help raise money to support Cuban Pro-democracy groups in Havana. So I order a couple dozen to show my solidarity with the Cuban people.
As soon as my bands arrived, I put one on and never took it off. That is until yesterday when I broke it.
This has been a very good two year period for me. I wore my wristband to Machu Pichu in Peru and wore it repeling through the jungle canopy in Belize. Wore it to Marti Gras in New Orleans and Disney World in Orlando, FL. Heck, this wristband has spent more time in The Bahamas than Anna Nicole Smith. I wore it while I quit my job and started a new company.
The ironic part, the people of Cuba aren't allowed to do any of those things. In the past 2+ years the biggest breakthrough they've had: they can now buy cell phones (at the attractive price of 2 months average wages)!
Here is a slideshow. The wristband can be seen in all of these photos, but sometimes you have to look pretty close.
Just last week I met a cab driver from Cuba who came to the US over 20 years ago. He's allowed to bring his parents here one at the time. They can't come together cause Castro is afraid they'd stay!
One time Taylor asked me if we could ever visit Cuba. My response: "We'll go there as soon as they are allowed to come here." I hope that's soon.
In the meantime, I've put on a new Cambio wristband. Will it help the people of Cuba? No. Will it help me remember not to take my lifestyle for granted? Yes.
TO CONCLUDE:
“Orlando Zapata Tamayo died today in Havana at age 42 after a hunger strike of over 80 days. He had chosen this extreme method of protest to demand respect for his personal safety after enduring numerous beatings and tortures at the hands of Cuban prison authorities.”
I'm headed to southeast-asia with my folks next month, and while there I'd like to keep everyone updated on what we are doing. I hope that over the next month I can get proficient enough with this site to make it work.
CUBA: THE SAME COMMUNIST CRAP, JUST TROPICAL.
One of the things I consider required reading is Jay Nordlinger's column on National Review Online. Every morning I check to see if he has published anything. One of his pet causes is the Cuban peoples' struggle for freedom. Several times a month he'll update that another journalist has died in the gulag, or some blogger was beaten for writing something on the internet.
In November 2007, Jay posted this:
"Thought you should know about this item from Havana: “Cuban police rounded up a group of young people wearing white rubber wristbands stenciled with the word ‘cambio,’ or ‘change,’ and held them for hours before releasing them without filing charges . . ."
What kind of regime is scared of white rubber wristbands stenciled with the word “change”? A totalitarian one, of course."
You can google "cambio bracelet" if you want more information. As it turns out, a group of Cuban emigrants out of Miami began selling the wristbands to help raise money to support Cuban Pro-democracy groups in Havana. So I order a couple dozen to show my solidarity with the Cuban people.
As soon as my bands arrived, I put one on and never took it off. That is until yesterday when I broke it.
This has been a very good two year period for me. I wore my wristband to Machu Pichu in Peru and wore it repeling through the jungle canopy in Belize. Wore it to Marti Gras in New Orleans and Disney World in Orlando, FL. Heck, this wristband has spent more time in The Bahamas than Anna Nicole Smith. I wore it while I quit my job and started a new company.
The ironic part, the people of Cuba aren't allowed to do any of those things. In the past 2+ years the biggest breakthrough they've had: they can now buy cell phones (at the attractive price of 2 months average wages)!
Here is a slideshow. The wristband can be seen in all of these photos, but sometimes you have to look pretty close.
Just last week I met a cab driver from Cuba who came to the US over 20 years ago. He's allowed to bring his parents here one at the time. They can't come together cause Castro is afraid they'd stay!
One time Taylor asked me if we could ever visit Cuba. My response: "We'll go there as soon as they are allowed to come here." I hope that's soon.
In the meantime, I've put on a new Cambio wristband. Will it help the people of Cuba? No. Will it help me remember not to take my lifestyle for granted? Yes.
TO CONCLUDE:
“Orlando Zapata Tamayo died today in Havana at age 42 after a hunger strike of over 80 days. He had chosen this extreme method of protest to demand respect for his personal safety after enduring numerous beatings and tortures at the hands of Cuban prison authorities.”
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