Saturday, October 15, 2005

Mexican Justice

The oxymoronic title is only a loss leader.

Yet the wheels of justice do move slow, though I think no more slowly than the wheels that have long come off the American system.

I met with our lawyer yesterday, and she told me that now the investigative portion of the case had been completed, similar to an indictment, and the case will be given to the prosecutorial branch, which has three days to review it before she will start pestering them.

On another note, I have been a friend and occasional doctor to a number of folks here, one of whom just died of lung cancer and whose wake we will be attending today at Finnegan's. Yes, in San Miguel there are Irish Bars, German Bars, even two Sushi bars. (Not to mention chocolate bars and bars to progress.)

Today I'd like to thank Brother Chris for his encouraging message and daughter Keturah for my first e-birthday card.

Hard to make jokes about cancer and the dead. I was the lucky guy he went to to ask the inevitable question, "How long do I got, Doc?" Munching my carrot, per usual I was overly optimistic for obvious psychological reasons, though I urged him to get his affairs in order.

The late Jim Bolen was a smart, generous man and a good friend I wish I'd known longer. He was a retired decorator from San Francisco who overcame the stigma of his heterosexuality to succeed in a very competitive field.

And a non-smoker. Yeah, death's a lottery, all right.

And as my younger brother said, "It seems to run in our family." (I fear us Chaffins will certainly die of terminal uniqueness some day.)

On a happier note, I still have the most hair of my brothers and have achieved somewhat of a backwards comb-over, kind of like Jack Nicholson when he was younger--not the horrible side-parted variety. This is what passe for achievement in my life?

Off to the wake. In Mexico the dead are happiest, and they are still with us. In fact, their special day comes up Nov. 1, when the Mayans actually disinter their ancestors and clean their bones with brushes while having a picnic. One of the things I like about Mexico. Who's gonna brush my bones when I am gone? I think that might make a good country song.




  1. may the bluebird of happiness avoid your birthday cake...



  2. Great free-form Haiku...

    err... not!

    Thanks, Gardawg!


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