If it is difficult to enter the thoughts of others, it is even more difficult to enter their memories. I myself sometimes struggle to enter mine. And it’s not that my memory falters. I keep it -sometimes unfortunately- whole. What happens is that my conscience gets in the way. I think, however, that what the journalists who accompanied Biden on his visit to Mexico will remember the most will be the potholes on the way from the “Felipe Ángeles” Airport to the hotel where they stayed. “A bumpy ride,” wrote one visitor to describe the ride. (“A jumping tour”, free translation).
I usually make a comparison, forgetful of the wise maxim that says that “When two are compared, one of the two repairs.” I say that Americans build their houses to last 30 years, and their roads to last a lifetime. We Mexicans make our houses to last a lifetime, and our roads to last three months. And this is not due to inefficiency: Mexican engineering is one of the best in the world, as evidenced by the splendid highway to Mazatlán, with its extraordinary “El baluarte” bridge, built in the time of Felipe Calderón. None of the pharaonic works, and quite possibly useless and unaffordable, by López Obrador can be compared to it.
The cause of the bad workmanship and deplorable state of most of our highways, and of the streets of many of our cities and towns, is corruption. Materials are used, not second class, but third or fourth, and the work is done in a hurry, to the trunk, because “the boss” -mayor, governor or president- wants to do the inauguration before the end of his term, and his term is about to end. This results in events as comical, picturesque or curious as the one that I am going to relate immediately.
The residents of a certain neighborhood of a certain city closed a block of the main street of their sector one day, and held a party there to which they invited reporters from the local media. There was a snack with a piñata and skittles -bags with sweets- for the attendees, and a cake was broken with a candle. Who was the celebrated? A pothole, which had been on that street for a year! On several occasions the neighbors went to the mayor to ask him to cover the hole -the pothole, I mean-, which caused continuous accidents, and despite the fact that 12 months had passed, the pothole was still there.
That’s why they celebrated their anniversary. The older neighbor – the lady had 99 – blew out the candle, and when she spoke, she predicted that, as she saw things, the pothole would have as long a life as hers. It was a tasty rant that made the front page of the local newspapers, and reports on primetime television. The pothole was still there, and if they finally covered it, it was only because someone from the municipality remembered that the second anniversary party was approaching. Sometimes I wonder, devastated, if perhaps our country, with such bad governments and mostly indifferent citizens, is not a big bump whose birthday we celebrate every September 15.
In order to dispel the sorrow that such a gloomy reflection must have caused the Republic, I will tell a final little story and then make a timely exit. Afrodisio got the beautiful Dulcimel to agree to accompany him to his apartment. There, in the absence of champagne, she offered him an apple soda, and then asked him to spend the night with him. She sweetly refused: “I’ll feel guilty when I get up in the morning.” She suggested the salacious subject: “We’re up until noon.” END.
LOOKOUT
By Armando SOURCES AGUIRRE.
The light that came through the windows of my room woke me up.
Put more simply: the light coming through my bedroom window woke me up.
I thought:
-It must already be 6 in the morning.
I looked at the clock.
It was 4.
The light that turned night into day was lunar. The moonlight was so clear that when I went out into the garden I could see in the air the notes of Beethoven’s sonata and the evanescent piece that Debussy composed.
Then, suddenly, the daylight began to shine, and it merged with the moonlight.
I thought all that light was the same light.
I thought that all light is the same Light.
See you tomorrow!…
MANGANITAS
by AFA
“. The meeting of the presidents concluded.”.
That tripartite board,
that could have been nice
AMLO, with his spiel,
he made it monopartite.
#Politics #worse