~Calle Guanajuato~

A history.

I walked down to the beach last night, in the way I prefer. On the darkest paths available. From my street to the freeway is all lights. Paved streets. I go straight over, on the brightest one, passing in full view of the patrol, and the two undercover vehicles I pass. It’s really hot in this area, politically speaking.
I chuckled thinking of how I would like to take Chip the morning KOGO radio dumbass on this 11:30 walk to the beach on streets he seems convinced are coated in blood, and Americans are all targets.
But then I thought, even though he is my peer in many ways, physically in particular, he don’t have the balls to walk Avenida Guadalupe. Worse yet, his preoccupations would never allow him the tranquil moments of gratitude that are, indeed, 'in the air'. It was a very nice evening.

Once down to the freeway I head South, on a dirt path that runs parallel to the north bound lane. Well, sort of. It actually winds through groves of trees, and alongside old stone walls, and up and down hills. Occasionally there is an open area wherein there is one of those big walkover bridges, which I don’t use.

I travel along this trail noting the sound of heavy traffic southbound. I have been watching for Owl. I know he is somewhere down along here. I pass an empty field, in the middle of a city. How cool this place is, for it is a big field 5acres wide and say…diez y siete long. The remains of an ancient brick building lies here too, a mark that tells me there was once nothing here but ranch. Horses often graze here. The field curves upward and above it the endless low cement houses and occasional tall palms go on forever. The dogs across the way begin barking which sets off a chain reaction along the distant unpaved frontage road.
A huge Pastor Aleman races toward me gallantly, all ears. I wait until he gets about 25 yards away and then reach for the ground as though to pick up a rock.
Immediately he turns and races away a few yards, turning and barking all the louder. I walk on calmly, for I now am higher on the pecking order.

Silly German Shepard.

At the next bridge I walk across the freeway, hopping over the cement barrier when the roar of cars south bound finally subsided. What the hell? Tourism returning in Mexico? Que Buena Onda!

Down at the beach, I sat on a little cliff and listened to the waves rolling thousands of rocks back and forth, in and out of a little corner.
Very soothing.
I was contemplating spheres and squaring the circle, and had become quite engrossed in the meaning of some odd dreams I have been having.

About Spheres. I can’t really describe the dreams, as they are very foggy.

Anyway, out of nowhere a lady walks up. 40ish, blond, top end ropa.
“Hi.” I said just loud enough to hear as she walked between me and the beach.
Scared the crap out of her.
She looked about to run, so I told her to calm down and asked why she was out on the beach past midnight.
As I predicted she was from SD, had a grip of woes, and gave me a shortened version.
So much for spheres.
She talked for a while, about this and that, and I listened.
After while she noticed the hand sized blue rock with white stripes and dots on it that sat next to me.
“What is that, is that yours?” she asked.
“Oh, this thing… it is a prototype, I call this one Stohn.”
“What the hell is it?”
I reached into my tee shirt pocket and pulled out the Sinaloan nugget that was there, and stuffed it into a hole on top of the oval shaped azteca looking little rock.
I took my incendador from the same pocket and took a big puff from the stone, and then held it in front of me, demonstration style.

“It’s a PotRock.” I replied, “Una piedra fumando, como….”

“Wow!”, she laughed out loud. “That’s pretty cool.”

So, I have advanced prototypes in the works, with easy cleaning and better quality finishes.
Flowers, Birds, Maya, Fish….
I bet I could sell this product…. One of a kind smoking rocks, with clever paintings on them.
Hell, I would pay 25 bux in a heartbeat for one, had I encountered it while running here and there…..

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

Only Tony could/would make a grand story
out of going for a walk. And, a great story it
is in every detail. I kept thinking this guy is going
to cement relations between our countries before
he finishes this walk, but you surprised me and invented
a pot stone. But, you did surprise me and that is
strictly a Tony.
Great writing, makes me want to take a walk.
------ Eagle Cruagh

[Crowley]

Pot Rocks.....it would sell...I am sure of it...lol. Great story Tony, I thought sure the sex was coming next, but maybe thats another story for another time...How have you bee? Its been awhile.