Pepino Suave

Amor Asqueroso

2012-01-29T07:03:00.000-06:00

Escenario 1
(Submitted by P. Suave)

FADE IN::

INT. SUNSET AVENUE, LOS ANGELAS, CALIFORNIA - MID DAY

A sunburned mariachi saunters down the street. His haggard looking donkey trails behind him. He pauses in front of the office of Montage, a talent management company. The mariachi reads over the building directory posted next the the building entrance.
He ties his burro to the no parking sign, enters the building. He removes his sombrero, revealing an egg-white bald spot topping his pink face, and azure eyes that give away his European lineage .
He approaches the receptionist, the former Linoleum Queen of Lick Skillet, PA, a town known for its linoleum production.

Gringo Mariachi

I am Pepino Suave. I am a Mariachi. I am here to see the bastard William Ferrell. He stole my movie concept. He should prepare to die.

Big Busted Secretary

I am sorry, Mr. Suave. Mr. Ferrell is on location for his next film. How can I help you?

She looks at her reflection in the blank computer monitor, adjusting her eyeliner with a pinkie finger

Gringo Mariachi

You can not help me. This is not women's work. A man steals from another man, he must prepare to die. I demand an audience with the bastard-son-of-a-puta Ferrell!

The young, full figured receptionist reaches back behind her head with her right hand, the side she preferred to use when mixing linoleum cement back home, and swings it 180 degrees full-force, meeting the Gringo Mariachi's sun burned left cheek with all the power of a former small town talent show champion. The Gringo Mariachi's head swings hard to the right. He puts a hand to the blazing flesh and looks off camera for five full seconds. He slowly looks up at the vivacious secretary.

Gringo Mariachi

Ouch! Mami, that hurt! Why did you do that, little flower? Have I offended you?

The curvy office help stands up, eyes swollen and red from crying, and points directly at the dusty intruder. She yells:

Big Busted Secretary

Yes! Yes you have! Is it not women's work to ask a man if he !needs help?! Is it not women's work to spend three hours fixing oneself up in order to be presentable? Is it not? IS IT NOT?!!!!!

Hysterical, the secretary crosses her arms over her very ample chest and collapses into racking sobs, her mascara dripping down her face. The Gringo Mariachi holds his sombrero nervously in his hands, at loss for words, but never at a loss for Mariachi-style chivalry. He throws his dusty sombrero to the floor, and leaps over the counter. Grabbing the secretary in his arms, he gently wipes mascara from her creamy skin with the thumb of a calloused hand.

Mariachi Gringo

You must not cry, my flower. I mean you no harm. It is just that I must kill your employer, the evil William Ferrell, Hijo de la Gran Puta. He stole my movie concept. He must prepare to die.

The voluptuous secretary looks up into the Gringo Mariachi's crinkly little eyes, and holds a teary-eyed gaze that would make a Sandra Bullock cry-scene seem plastic. She does that looking from one crinkly eye to the next crinkly eye, then to the chin thing that has a neat affect. Her voice full of mucous and emotion, she sputters:

Big Breasted Secretary

Prepare to die?

Gringo Mariachi

Yes, my little dulce, the pinche Ferrell must prepare to die.

Big Breasted Secretary

But...

Gringo Mariachi

But what, my remolancha?

The big breasted secretary turns to the camera, still gripped in the arms of the skinny, balding mariachi.

Cue organ music:

Big Breasted Secretary

I am carrying Mr. Ferrell's baby!

Big breasted secretary buries her head into the gringo mariachi's bony chest. Organ music goes steroidal, as the camera cuts to the Gringo Mariachi, his face twisted into a tortured mass of wrinkles, showing all the anguish and loneliness of a former mariachi-turned-public- school-teacher. His loyal donkey brays in the background.

Cut to commercial.

End Escenario 1: Amor Asqueroso

El Famoso Mariachi Gringo

Nuestro Protaganista/Ensayista

Telenovela Rules

2012-01-28T15:38:00.000-06:00

Each participant will submit a scene when it is their turn in queue (see last entry).
Each participant has one week to produce their scene (some flexibility here).
If a participant neglects to post a scene, a scene will be posted by the author of this blog in its place, and the procrastinating participant will be a character featured in the scene who is cuckolded by his wife, disowned by his parents, charged a hefty overdue fee at the library, and dies a horrible death, only to reappear miraculously in a future scene and killed again - even more horribly.
Each scene should mimic the telenovela style - over-the-top drama, big breasts, lots of yelling.
Each scene should flow into the next, as much as possible (even if an author has to stretch a bit)
Submissions should be sent to: tim.fournier@yahoo.com. I will post submissions to this blog as soon as they are received.
Participants are urged to subscribe to this blog (see upper right corner of the blog).

The Pitch

2012-01-28T15:19:00.000-06:00

Friends and Family,

Here's my pitch:

A Spanish-style soap opera cobbled together by the collaborative efforts of a group of people. This proposal is inspired by Lori's success in the past to have us electronically collaborate on US presidents, geography, etc. As well, the telenovela has become an evening staple in our household, which mocks the drama encountered at the office, at the DMV, and while watching Aunt Kelly "be a cat" during holiday gatherings.

With the spirit of Lori's brainchild in mind (no pun. ok, pun), and with the knowledge that the telenovela is a clandestine favorite of any warm blooded American, I urge you to join in this creative effort - urge your "peripheral penguins": the Smurfies, Inkies, Pixies, Butches, Goobers, oddball neighbor, Rick Argus, inbred cousin to participate, as well.

Project Working Title: Amor Asqueroso (Disgusting Love)

Your obligation to the project:

When it is your turn in the queue, you must contribute a scene to the telenovela script. The only stipulations are: 1) that your scene flows in some way from the previous scene, and leaves a dangling thread from which the next participant can tie in to their scene. 2) Let's shoot for one submission each weekend 3)There is no other criteria, beside the fact that your scene should mimick in some way the over-the-top, big-breasted drama of a true telenovela.

Consequence for non-participation:

Attendance to Ink's First Guitar Recital and attendance to the Zion Lutheran Church's annual Easter Vigil-palooza - both taking place on the same looooooooooooooooooooooooooong weekend.

You in? In!!!!!!!!! Cool!

Tentative queue (with suggested themes/tips):

Yours Truly (washed-up, middle-aged gringo mariachi star teaches wayward youth (Los Sweat Hogs)

Ink (this is Univision, not broadway. Love you)

Kelly (Cinderella-eque theme. Protagonist wins the heart of a lion tamer).

Talea (J. Beiber camio)

Mom F. (what's the diagnoses for love?)

Dad F. (may be ghosted)

Lor (remember script must remain at the 5th grade reading level)

Rock (remember spell check)

Holly (older man meets real young rising star in the dog-eat-dog Detroit publishing world)

Abby (sorority girls gone [mildly, sweetly, chastely] wild.)

Tyler (can't wait - an explosion and a banana-peel-prat-fall guaranteed)

Mike (remember, in any romance scene, each character must have one foot on the floor)

Rose (just as the story-line gets boring, in come the mob wives!)

Becca (Girl meets boy eunuch)

Nick (Have mom look it over before pressing "send". Then send me your first draft by alternate email. This is gonna be sweet)

*please send me names and emails of friends/family who wish to participate. All are welcome.

** Finished product will be sent to Univision. Proceeds from the sale of the script will be put in a coffee can, buried in Mom and Dad's patio

planter, and not opened until the next occasion for a Pay the Man tournament.

*** The first submission, Scene 1 of Amor Asqueroso, will sent by the end of this weekend. Don't worry, it will be worth the wait.

Andale! LET"S DO IT!

El Ensayista,

P. Suave

Thanksgiving 2011

2011-11-27T11:03:00.000-06:00

The post-turkey sewing circle.

Some Children Left Behind

2011-10-18T05:25:00.001-05:00

The fundamental reason Yours Truly can not accept the Charter School rational is that Charter Schools, although funded by tax money, are fundamentally not public schools. The bedrock principal of public schools, and the main reason why I choose to remain employed in the public schools, is that they accept any student that crosses their threshold; by law, mandate, and volition. Charter Schools have not, cannot, and will not answer the key symptom of our educational crisis: how to educate our most difficult and expensive to service. Where there is not direct profit, charters will not go. I embrace the free market mentality in the market place. The free market does not address the common good. We do.

Exhibit 2,345,382:

Test Result: No School for Student with Asperger Syndrome

The emperor is butt-naked,

Profesor Suave

La Changa

2011-09-26T19:56:00.001-05:00

Li'l Pepinita and the Author 2003

Swimming with my little girl in Lake Michigan is one of a billion great memories I have of being a daddy. Now I serve more as an ATM and taxi; back then I was all jungle gym. Li'l Pepinita crawled on me like a monkey no matter if I was playing or if I was trying to do chores. I remember counting on her to join me when I putzed around the house - she loved to watch and ask all the questions that came to mind.
Still, there are those afternoons when she wants to throw the football around; or when you absently grabs for my hand when we walk the dog, are when she snuggles into me as we sit in church.
I'll take what I can get and count myself the luckiest daddy in the world.
Papi contento,
Peps

2011-09-05T15:46:00.001-05:00

Don Fabio

2011-09-04T08:18:00.001-05:00

Above is a picture of Don Fabio. I found him working his conuco one morning in late July. We were playing ball with his grandkids and several other villagers on the other side of barb wire fence while he picked at weeds, and chopped branches with his machete. The utility of a dominican man's machete would put an average North American man's tool bench to shame. As we played beisbol, Don Fabio put in a full morning's labor with one hand and a machete, only stopping to ask if his grandchildren were behaving, and offering them a quick blessing.
Below is a picture of Rodrigo catching a mid-day Atlantic breeze from his porch. I shuffled by his house on my way to see the cliffs of Cabrera that look over the Atlantic Ocean. As you can see from the picture, his shaded patio is just yards from the cliffside. As any warm-blooded dominican would do, he invited me to sit with him and charlar un poco. He told me about his career as a resort waiter, the few jobs he maintains as a retiree, and the good fortune he feels he has won by having a healthy family, and a humble home near the sea. Beyond Rodrigo is the scooter he uses to taxi people throughout Cabrera, often serving as a messenger service, as well.

Cogiendolo suave,
P. Suave

Gibby

2011-04-13T18:07:00.002-05:00

Each morning, after walking and feeding the mut, I sit down to a bowl of oatmeal and watch Morning Joe. Today, a clip that Willy showed really struck me. It was a shot of Kirk Gibson, former Detroit Tiger god, and presently manager of the Arizona Diamondbacks, walking out to dispute a call with the umpire. My picture of Gibson is always of a long haired stallion; a hard nosed slugger who could out run a horse. Unbridled passion. Vigor. Perpetual youth. To use an overused cliche, he always leaves it all on the field.

It was hard marrying that picture with the older gentleman limping stiff-legged onto and off the field. It hurt to watch the aging hero. I sensed my mortality, and rubbed my sore knee.

Lastimado,

P. Suave

El Viejo Cojo

Hay Pero Que Calor

2011-04-10T17:59:00.002-05:00

Dear Readers,

Pepinoville received its first hot spell today - a high of 70- plus degrees. I pulled my shorts from the back of the closet, and bared my stilts to the world. The afternoon was spent out back putzing around with La Hija de Pastora, and my ladies. And the dog.

Now it is time to get back to school...

Sudando,

Peps

Estacionamento

2011-04-06T19:49:00.003-05:00

There is no such thing as an extra-wide drive way, nor a two-car driveway. Just a driveway. You see, a driveway is like Chinese food; no matter how big the order, you still could eat more. My dear child bride and I have had a two-plus car driveway, a one-car driveway, and our present two car driveway. We drive compact cars. Still, we run out of room. You have a good twenty feed of smooth, dry cement, and then that sloppy strip of mud and gnarly grass chewed up by a compact car driven by a spatially impaired chofer. For this driver, the concrete slab is just a suggestion, a general target, a place to set a few of the vehicle's tires when parked.

Desaquilibrado,

P. Suave

1984

2011-04-05T19:23:00.006-05:00

We moved last fall. La Casa Pepino sold quickly and cheaply mid-summer, and we moved to Hogar Pepino just before the school doors open. It is an 80 year old house, tastefully updated over the years, and offers plenty of room for family and the accompaning livestock (Angel gets the upstairs, Luna downstairs and a portion of the backyard for her thing).

It being spring break and all, I aim to tear through the basement and garage. School and cold began before I could fully unpack and organize these last two portions of the estate. This morning I was pulling apart some anceint shelving in the basement. I grabbed some old newspaper lining the top shelf and read the dateline: August 12, 1984. It was on the masthead for a page of advertising ("Meijer Thrifty Acre 50th Anniversary"). As I continued busting up boards and prying nails, I reminisced about that period in my life. Here is what I remember about the year 1984:

1. I was a sophmore at college with an undeclared major and mounting student debt.

2. I worked summers in the maintainance department at an apartment complex, and midnights as a security guard during the school year.

3. The Detroit Tiger won the World Series against the San Diego Padres. Joe, Pete, and I watched the post-series celebration/inferno from the rooftop of the apartment complex on Jefferson avenue.

4. I rented a $200 a month upper flat in Hamtramck and drove a 76' Malibu (silver/red cloth interior).

5. One semester of full-time tuition at the University of Detroit was roughly $1,500

6. "Owner of a Lonely Heart" Yes

7. "Dancing in the Dark" Bruce Springsteen

8. "Jump" Van Halen

9. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera

10. Miami Vice

11. Hair, hair brush, and shampoo

Mucha nostalgia,

Peps

El Maestro Vergonzado

2011-04-04T17:08:00.007-05:00

I bring shame to my name. While others have worked an entire calendar year, year after year, I sop up gobs of vacation time around holidays and summertime. While the Average Joe could lose his employment at whim, apparently it is harder to can me than it is to grow grass in a desert. I receive guaranteed pay raises, no matter if I produce or not, and I get free donuts each time one of my clients has a birthday. Although I have enough college credit to fulfill two PhD programs, I am an expert at zilch. Although both my customers and supervisors would rather have their jobs than mine, they offer unsolicited advice about how I could do mine better, cheaper, and longer. By virtue of my certification and academic major I am an underachiever, suspect of laziness, pedophilia, and ignorance. Were I to debate the above, add whining, too.

Here's the rub: I don't care. Sure, it is annoying and disheartening when the bashing hits a critical mass; when one cannot open a newspaper, scan the Internet, talk to a friend or relative, or overhear a restaurant conversation without absorbing the mass critique of the job (I would hazard to call it "the profession", only to illicit a smirk from Average Joe). I don't care. If I were to leave it behind tomorrow, I know I would miss it. Not miss it nostalgically, but miss it like an amputee misses an arm or a leg. The zillion irritating, mind-numbingly stupid, ourtrageously incompetent things that happen weekly on the job are only bearable because I know I'd miss it. I'd miss the potential of proving Average Joe wrong, whether he ever knows it or not. I'd miss the potential of actually teaching something, which has the same odds as a batter actually hitting a ball - only to leave me feeling most days like I've struck out. I'd miss a captive audience of people at their most precious stage of life - well before they become Average Joes. I'd miss the euphoria of walking the line between having the power to make or break a person's day, while at the same time having no real power at all. I'd miss the perverse daily dichotomy of the huge responsibility I have without any accompanying authority whatsoever.

I should be ashamed.

Con orgullo,

Profesor P. Suave

The Good Rabbi

2011-03-17T18:46:00.003-05:00

The Good Rabbi

And it so happened that a tenured teacher approached the conference leader who was speaking to members in the crowd and asked, "Good Rabbi, what must I do in order to teach and be heard and even appreciated like you are?"
"Why do you call me good?" The Rabbi replied. "For it has been said that no one is good but God alone."
After a brief pause, the Rabbi cleared his voice and continued his response,
"You already have The Standards which are spelled out clearly by the County on tablets for you to follow: design interesting, challenging, understandable lessons, have measurable and attainable goals, and forget not to post your teaching objectives clearly in the sand."
The Good Sheppard went on to say,
"Create meaningful assessments and remember always that results reflect as much on you as teacher as they do about even the slowest of `special needs' sheep. Grade them carefully, looking for gaps in their understanding. Don't forget to return graded work promptly, while students still remember and recognize it as their own. Use the feedback to re-teach that which is necessary - although, if they didn't learn it, you didn't really teach it the first time, did you? So try again, coming from a different angle, involving all of their senses and learning styles, until even the `least of these' has that special sparkle in their eyes along with a wide grin of recognition that goes along with that `lit oil lamp moment' and perhaps even a shy look of appreciation on his face. This will be your clue that it is time to press on, traveling cautiously down the sandy and slippery slope ahead,"
The persistent, "all-knowing" teacher replied, "But what if they are too slow? Tending sheep can be frustrating, you know. There is always at least one who gets caught up in the thorny brambles along the way. Should I hold up the entire flock to wake up the one who did not sleep well last night and cannot see straight this morning? He was probably just playing and getting into mischief of one kind or another. Who knows? Maybe he was grazing on alfalfa sprouts or something."
The kind and patient Rabbi kindly replied, "Don't you remember the parable about the shepherd who left his entire flock in order to go look for the one who had strayed off path.?"
Oh yeah, those silly stories. I always remember them," the teacher reminisced. "I remember the songs, the chants, the rhythms and raps… They're hard to get out of my head!"
The Rabbi continued undeterred by the teacher's stubborn demeanor, and continued lovingly trying to teach. "Be proficient in your teaching in order to be worthy of expecting proficiency in return. For what you do unto the least of these is as if you had done it unto me." The teacher beamed and replied confidently, "I have done these things since my first day of teaching. Some sheep just don't seem to want to progress!"
The Rabbi shook his head sadly, and eyeing the teacher with dark, loving eyes, replied, "There is one thing further you must do."
"What is that?" he asked excitedly, hoping to finally hear the true secret to success,
The Rabbi looked deeply into his bright and beautiful hazel eyes and responded,
"Take the student who is most annoying and troublesome to you and treat him as you would your only son."
The teacher walked away sadly, for he was a busy man.

(Adapted by Laura Lytle, March 14, 2011)

Ski 2010

2010-12-22T16:48:00.002-06:00

Pepinita bajando la loma.

We returned from our three day ski-fest in upper-lower Michigan this afternoon. We were gifted both sunshine and steady snow, perilous crashes into snow-caked trees, tumbles on turns and straight-aways, bruises, scratches, tongues scalded by hot chocolate, and toes raw from the cold.

Luna the Dumb Dog (still undiagnosed, but commonly assumed to be somewhere on the autistic spectrum) socialized with dumpsters, snow drifts, and fence posts, but otherwise avoided any wildlife, fellow canine, or humans.

Pepinita and dear friend Pegamata spent hours enjoying gravity and snow, chatting at high speeds, eating, talking about eating, arguing, laughing, arguing more, and laughing even more.

My esposada, Pepina, and I had it the best; we enjoyed skiing, and enjoyed watching the kids enjoy skiing.

We return feeling like the most fortunate people on earth.

Resbalando,

P. Suave

Vuelvo

2010-10-03T12:08:00.002-05:00

Hola Fanaticos de Todos Asuntos Pepinos,

Para que sepan, I have returned to ink my rants on this blog. Stay tuned for more Things Pepino.

Para servirles,

P. Suave

Lamby Agotado

2010-02-13T17:12:00.002-06:00

Pepinita's little charge, Lamby, is very active for his age - 11, something like 111 in lamb years. Here you see him reclining after a day of being a stuffed animal.

Atentamente,

Pepino de Peluche

In Another Time; In Another Place

2010-02-02T19:48:00.003-06:00

Fresh snow makes the winter bearable. Snow muffles and cleanses. The harsh months are grittier, meaner, if left grey. Give me snow. And a snow rake. And an occasional melt. And snow pants. Oh, and a car defroster that works. But let it snow.

Hace frio,

Pepino Congelado

Vaya Azul

2009-09-21T06:09:00.000-05:00

Gracias Joe!

Ganamos,

P. "Azul" Suave

Play Ball/Euchre

2009-08-31T20:15:00.001-05:00

Dad's 70th Birthday

2009-08-31T20:06:00.001-05:00

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Flarp Cup Championship Summer 09

2009-08-31T19:52:00.007-05:00

It's official: Cocinero and Pepina are the 2009 Summer Flarp Cup Champions. They won something like 10 games to 7. Hope they're happy. They sure look happy. That's Pete with the Flarp Cup Cap Kit and Dear Pepina with a Pepsi (a stand in for the Flarp Cup - we left it home on the kitchen table). You can see the stadium of ecstatic fan cheering in the background.

Congrats to Cocinero and Pepina. See you in a few months for the Winter Flarp Cup Tournament.

Dulce venganza,

P. "What's Trump?" Suave

Caca de Luna

2009-08-26T19:47:00.002-05:00

Above is an overhead shot of Luna sniffing out an ideal in-house spot to empty her bowels. To the immediate left of the pooch is the leg of the author of these words. Below the dog and the leg is beautiful tile and an earth-toned grout that blends nicely with the hue of a healthy dog feces.

Tomorrow night is our fourth (4th - Cuarto) dog obedience session with the renown dog trainer, Entrenador Magnifico. If Luna's obedience classes were similar to traditional schooling, she would be on a prescription by now. She really needs to be medicated in order to be social with the rest of the dogs in her class. She has been labeled since session 1 (ADD Dog). We got a lot of stink eye from fellow dog owners at our sessions. They are doggy judgemental. I might not be the most enthusiastic dog owner, but I do get defensive.

No ofenda me perra,

Pepino S.

Luna Llega

2009-08-22T18:40:00.004-05:00

The family Suave has a new member. Four month old Luna "Lunatic" Fournier, a Brittney, arrived in early June. It has taken me most of the summer to acknowledge her residency in our home. I'm not a dog guy. I've even bought a rat for Pepinita in order to distract her desire for a canine. The rat died. I lost.
Above you see dear Pepinita rubbing Luna's tummy, a common sight here in Pepinoville these days.
Luna is fond of chewing, running frantically with no destination in mind, peeing, pooing, belly rubs, head scratches, treats, answering commands for treats, and prompting our diabolical cat, Angel, to hiss.
Luna is relegated to the west wing of our estate, as the east is devoted to the cat and furniture we really care about.

Luna es loca,

P. Suave

Pepinita

2009-08-16T11:13:00.003-05:00

My dear Pepinita, pickled fruit of our loins, has a new blog! Click on "Pepinita's Spot" under Pepino's Picks to your right on this page to see what our eye's apple is up to these dog days of summer (hint, hint..).
The 2009, tenth annual Flarp Championship is scheduled for the weekend of August 30th, as is the 70th birthday celebration of Bompa Suave at the Pepinoville ball park. Be there! Pickled family and friends will be in town for these two exciting events.

More entries to follow,

P. Suave

Face Book

2009-04-07T04:56:00.003-05:00

Dear Neglected Readers,
It has been a queer year. The ol' Pepino has graced this fare blog with few entries; and even those were lame snap shots and cut-and-pastes (save the latest entry informing pepino fans of the recent Flarp Cup championship upset. Truly newsworthy, that). It is as if a mailaise has swept Pepinoville. A pickled funk.
I finally feel compelled to address the issue in public, on this very blog (cherished and reknow, as it is, by countless millions). The catalyst for this entry is the fact that Pepino Suave, the author of these words, finds himself on FACEBOOK.

[Appropriate stunned silence.]

Let's face it, Pepinophiles, we knew something was up for awhile: lame entries, pictures of sunsets. Yuck. That is stuff of mortal bloggers. What finally drove my to a searching and fearless self-assessment (thank you to my friends at Pepinos Anonymous) was when I hit cyber-bottom and registered for my own FACE BOOK PAGE.
It happened so quickly, I hardly new what I had done, until I discovered myself reading what my teenage cousin was going to do after her shift at Walgreens. Initially, this naive pickle intended to register for the diabolical site merely to peruse some offerings of a national association of left-handed actuaries, a pet interest of mine, whose site I was directed to by well meaning fans of southpaw risk investigators. Before you know it, shazam!, I'm reading about cousin Gabe's puppy love. It was a meaningless-data-lined trap, set for this curious, but mis-directed pickle.
[Sigh of resignation]

My dimming self respect aside, there is a disturbing thrill to know that, right now, Uncle Russ is "doing errands and then din-din", and brother Ciego just got "the starter motor out, and am heading up to Wall marts", and old neighbor Ruth is "going to Pattersville for the wedding hope to see you there", and that my sweet little nieces, still in my memory dressed in their white communion dresses, use saucy language to say things that would win them a mouth full of Irish Spring if they tried that at Grandma's website. Face book has made me the pickled voyeur of behavior that keeps family and friend reunions a, mercifully, annual affair. Now I can access it daily from my laptop.

Amigos,

Peppy

2009 Flarp Cup Champions

2009-03-02T19:32:00.004-06:00

Pictured above are the 2009 Flarp Cup Champions. Holding the cup at right is El Banquero. At left, holding the Flarp Tournament Cap and the Flarp Tournament Kit is Yours Truly, the author of these words. The tournament losers, my beloved Pepina and the loyal Cocinero, rode off in the Losers Wagon pulled by the Flarp Tournament Blatzdale Horses, a Flarp Tournament tradition.
The win was especially poignent, as the winners were still bruised from an upsetting loss in a still contested, obviously rigged, 2008 Flarp Cup Championship.
This year's score was 17 wins to 6 losses, a Flarp Cup record.
Hearts are trump,
P. "I pass" Suave

The Boss Sold Out

2009-01-30T20:04:00.008-06:00

Springsteen sold out again, and I'm not talking about one of his concerts. He disappointed me once back in the nineties; while going folk, he licensed his t-shirt sales to a non-union shop. Today I read his new CD is only sold in Walmarts.
What happened to The Boss?
He married Patty, and then went the Arlo Guthrie route with his music. That I don't just understand, I celebrate. But Walmart?
I guess, if they existed in real life, Walmart is where most of the characters in his many songs would have to shop. Or work.

DARLINGTON COUNTY

By Bruce Springsteen

Driving in to Darlington County Me and Wayne on the Fourth of JulyDriving in to Darlington CountyLooking for some work on the county lineWe drove down from New York CityWhere the girls are pretty but they just want to know your nameDriving in to Darlington CityGot a union connection with an uncle of Wayne'sWe drove eight hundred miles without seeing a copWe got rock and roll music blasting off the T-top singingSha la la la la la la la la, Sha la la la la la laHey little girl standing on the cornerToday's your lucky day for sure all rightMe and my buddy we're from New York CityWe got two hundred dollars we want to rock all nightGirl you're looking at two big spendersWhy the world don't know what me and Wayne might doOur pa's each own one of the World Trade CentersFor a kiss and a smile I'll give mine all to youCome on baby take a seat on my fenderIt's a long night and tell me what else were you gonna doJust me and you we couldSha la la...Little girl sitting in the windowAin't seen my buddy in seven daysCounty man tells me the same thingHe don't work and he don't get paidLittle girl you're so young and prettyWalk with me and you can have your wayAnd we'll leave this Darlington CityFor a ride down that Dixie HighwayDriving out of Darlington CountyMy eyes seen the glory of the coming of the LordDriving out of Darlington CountySeen Wayne handcuffed to the bumper of a state trooper's FordSha la la...

You live long enough, your heroes trip on their kyptonite.

Growing old,
P. Suave

2009

2009-01-21T19:38:00.002-06:00

Pepino Suave is back! A new year, new president, and lots to chat about. After gritting my teeth for months, waiting for 2008 to finally putter out, I breath a sigh of relief. Not one to wish time away, Pepino Suave admits that last year was one to just put away and move on.
Stay tuned for some great Pobre Ana Out Takes and funny mini-stories.

Vuelvo,

P. Suave

Atardecer

2008-09-06T08:48:00.001-05:00

An evening on Lake Michigan

Me encanta,

P. Suaveson

Harry Potter

2008-03-15T18:40:00.002-05:00

Pepinita y Pepina are Potterphiles.

Las quiero a morir,

Papi Suave

Gradus George Hekman

2008-03-09T05:22:00.002-05:00

January 9, 1930 - March 9, 2008

Pinguinos

2008-02-13T05:16:00.005-06:00

Pinguino Suave, one of the most intelligent and handsome members of the Pepino Suave Experience (some say he is 10 times more intelligent than Einstien, others argue he is more than 15.98706534 times more intelligent. You be the judge), has his world-reknown Penguin exhibit featured at the Pepinoville Public Library lobby display case this month. Folks from all over Cuke County are coming in throngs to view his collection of vintage polar fowl.

Orgulloso,

Profesor Suave

Li'l Pepinita

2008-02-12T11:45:00.000-06:00

Li'l Pepinita has a new blog! Go to www.pepinita21.blogspot.com, or double click on Li'l Pepinita on the side bar. She'd love it if you stop by...

Orgulloso,

Papa Pepino

La Presidencia

2008-02-11T16:41:00.000-06:00

I've spent a good part of this last winter storm following the presidential election. I'm not learning a whole lot from the process, except that to be the leader of the free world you have to want it more than the very air you breath. I'm not sure I desire for the world a leader who wants the job that badly. Still, if I were elected president, I would be the first pepino in the White House. Never happened before. Look it up.

This is what I would do in my first 100 days:

Outlaw unsolicited advice
Make a presidential initiative for the promotion of the use of the phrase "I don't know". Mandate that it be used whenever a citizen doesn't really know something. Violators would be sent to Guantanamo without trial.
Sign into law the "Universal Snow Day", whereas all employees in both the private and public sectors get the day off when schools are closed because of the weather. We need more people on the sledding hills and at the YMCA pool when there is an Act of God.
Declare "Woopsy-Daisy" an official part of the American lexicon in honor of a dear patriot, Granny, who used the term whenever gravity did what gravity does (someone falls, "woopsy-daisy!", the foul ball hits a windshield, "woopsy-daisy!", someone accidently gets water-boarded, "woopsy-daisy!"....)
Promote the revival of the daily newspapers, two in each town across the nation. Ban internet news of any kind. Subsidize heath care for paperboys. Mandate a maximum age for paper delivery personell. And encourage the use of bowler hats for journalists (a nice touch, I think).

Amo la democracia,

Presidente Suave

Dia de Nieve

2008-01-30T05:18:00.000-06:00

A blizzard smacked Pepinoville like pie on Soupy Sale's face. In a mere few hours, we went from a soggy 45 degrees to 6 degrees with a delightful concoction of wind, ice and snow. Pepinoville Heights Public Schools are closed for the day, as is every public facility on this side of the penninsula. Yippy-skippy!
My snow day goal is to grade 70 research papers. This is made much easier without 70 fifth graders, a hyper-active intercom system, "support" staff, and fatigue. It is amazing how much teaching you can get done without students, etc.
Got to go. The coffee's ready...

Bailando la bachata de nieve,
Profesor Suave

Descanso

2007-12-27T06:24:00.000-06:00

Winter break is not for the weak-hearted. I can hear the jeers from thousands of Suave fans as they react to this comment. Still, the truth is, not everyone can handle huge gobs of vacation time. If I'm wrong, I challenge you to quit your current job and join the ranks of us "seasonally employed". Can you live up to the society's huge expectations of those compelled to fill hours of free time?
Why, I am writing this blog smack-dab in the middle of an island of rest and relaxation: one of Public Education's many ironies, the Christmas Vacation. For an institution that frowns at any form of personal expression beyond the book report, seems odd that it closes for a couple of weeks in the name of a Messiah. Come on, the "Holiday Break" hardly masks the intent. Ho-ho.
While most of the adult world labors in darkness, let me share with you a day in the life of an idle man. Let's review yesterday, the day after Christmas, which just happens to be celebrated by half the world while school is out.
1. Woke up, checked for paper (mere ceremony)
2. Tinkered with one of Pepinita's toys that I have not yet assembled as needed
3. Gathered layers of clothes and skates
4. P. Suave and the chicks left the house in search of a sheet of ice
5. After circling town, found some free skating at a rink on our side of town (thank goodness we took the Asian Express. The Bavarian Express would have sucked a tank of gas)
6. Skated in wide circles, pausing to fall from time to time. The highlight was watching Pepinita practice jumping over the boards to sit on the bench, "like they do on t.v.", and then jumping over the boards back onto the ice. She found much more diversion in this than in actually skating. A rink employee eventually came around to tell us we had to stay on the ice, didn't want anyone cracking their cranium.
7. Picked up our good friend and Free Market Fanatic, Contable, and drove back across town to a warehouse of bulk merchandise. We bought things we never intended, but saved a ton of dough.
8. Dropped Chicks off at the Butcher of Pepinoville for a shampoo and haircut.
9. Balanced check book
10. Ate dinner of left-over Christmas ham and read until bedtime

You, too, can live the life of Riley. Join us, won't you?

Disfrutando del tiempo libre,

Peps

Christmas

2007-12-25T10:23:00.000-06:00

PEACE

Mal Economia

2007-12-03T16:12:00.000-06:00

Underfunded Schools Forced To Cut Past Tense From Language Programs
November 30, 2007

WASHINGTON—Faced with ongoing budget crises, underfunded schools nationwide are increasingly left with no option but to cut the past tense—a grammatical construction traditionally used to relate all actions, and states that have transpired at an earlier point in time—from their standard English and language arts programs.

A Chicago-area teacher begins the new past tense–free curriculum.
A part of American school curricula for more than 200 years, the past tense was deemed by school administrators to be too expensive to keep in primary and secondary education.
"This was by no means an easy decision, but teaching our students how to conjugate verbs in a way that would allow them to describe events that have already occurred is a luxury that we can no longer afford," Phoenix-area high-school principal Sam Pennock said. "With our current budget, the past tense must unfortunately become a thing of the past."
In the most dramatic display of the new trend yet, the Tennessee Department of Education decided Monday to remove "-ed" endings from all of the state's English classrooms, saving struggling schools an estimated $3 million each year. Officials say they plan to slowly phase out the tense by first eliminating the past perfect; once students have adjusted to the change, the past progressive, the past continuous, the past perfect progressive, and the simple past will be cut. Hundreds of school districts across the country are expected to follow suit.
"This is the end of an era," said Alicia Reynolds, a school district director in Tuscaloosa, AL. "For some, reading and writing about things not immediately taking place was almost as much a part of school as history class and social studies."
"That is, until we were forced to drop history class and social studies a couple of months ago," Reynolds added.
Nevertheless, a number of educators are coming out against the cuts, claiming that the embattled verb tense, while outmoded, still plays an important role in the development of today's youth.
"Much like art and music, the past tense provides students with a unique and consistent outlet for self-expression," South Boston English teacher David Floen said. "Without it I fear many of our students will lack a number of important creative skills. Like being able to describe anything that happened earlier in the day."
Despite concerns that cutting the past-tense will prevent graduates from communicating effectively in the workplace, the home, the grocery store, church, and various other public spaces, a number of lawmakers, such as Utah Sen. Orrin Hatch, have welcomed the cuts as proof that the American school system is taking a more forward-thinking approach to education.
"Our tax dollars should be spent preparing our children for the future, not for what has already happened," Hatch said at a recent press conference. "It's about time we stopped wasting everyone's time with who 'did' what or 'went' where. The past tense is, by definition, outdated."
Said Hatch, "I can't even remember the last time I had to use it."
Past-tense instruction is only the latest school program to face the chopping block. School districts in California have been forced to cut addition and subtraction from their math departments, while nearly all high schools have reduced foreign language courses to only the most basic phrases, including "May I please use the bathroom?" and "No, I do not want to go to the beach with Maria and Juan." Some legislators are even calling for an end to teaching grammar itself, saying that in many inner-city school districts, where funding is most lacking, students rarely use grammar at all.
Regardless of the recent upheaval, students throughout the country are learning to accept, and even embrace, the change to their curriculum.

"At first I think the decision to drop the past tense from class is ridiculous, and I feel very upset by it," said David Keller, a seventh-grade student at Hampstead School in Fort Meyers, FL. "But now, it's almost like it never happens.

(excerpt from The Onion - www.theonion.com)

Para el futuro,

Profesor Suave

El Domingo Feo

2007-12-02T05:01:00.000-06:00

Snow, ice, sleet, and freezing rain has pummeled Metropolitan Pepinoville since early yesterday evening. Thankfully, the cats and dogs aren't in this particular biblical weather system.
The Good Pastor Julie has assigned Yours Truly to be the Lutheran Weather Watchman for Pepinoville's Lutheran Saints of the Potluck Church and Fellowship Hall. I'll count it as my stewardship for this season (Note to Pastor: what box on the envelope do I check?).
As Lutherans aren't tied to the ol' salvation by deeds, I don't really have to shovel snow or scrape ice. My obligation extends to looking at the frozen muck, pondering "why is this?", and having faith that it, too, will pass in time; like every worldly event but maybe the Easter Vigil service (attended once by my Upper Case Catholic family members who still swear that its length and relative monotony exempt them from mass for a year. Its like paying penance forward, they claim).
The Good Pastor has this humble lamb stationed out in front of the church at dawn, bound in long underwear and a baggy winter coat, to inform her decision to close service or not (which is irrelevant 'cause Lutherans don't let Acts of God stop us. We'd drive miles in a plague of flying frogs to get to Coffee Hour). Still, it gives this ol' Pepino a purpose beyond my action-packed Sunday School lessons (I plan to have the Junior Christians play Books of the Bible Bumpity-Bump-Bump this morning, weather permitting [Kids stand in a circle, me in the middle, and if I point to you, you have to shout out your book of the Bible before I say Bumpity-Bump-Bump. Stinks to be Thessalonians]).
See ya' in the Narthex!

Ten fe,

Pepino "Weatherman" Suave

Headline News

2007-12-02T04:57:00.000-06:00

Cat survives 19 days with peanut butter jar stuck on head
BARTLETT, Tenn. (AP) -- Tabitha Cain has fed a feral cat she calls Wild Oats for several years, but now she's thinking of changing the feline's name to Survivor.
That's because she says the cat survived for 19 days with a peanut butter jar stuck on its head.
"We tried to get her, but being the type of cat you can't catch, she kept running and hiding," said Doretha Cain, Tabitha's mother.
The family saw the cat several times with the jar on its head and tried in vain to catch it. But after not seeing the cat for a week, the Cains feared the worst.
"I thought she was going to die with that jar on her head," said Tabitha Cain, 25.
They found the once chubby cat on Wednesday, too thin and weak to flee. They caught her with a fishing net and used some oil to get the jar off her head.
They gave her water and treated her wounds and on Friday she began to eat again.
"I've heard of cats having nine lives but I think this one has 19 because she survived 19 days," Doretha Cain said.
Memphis veterinarian Gerald Blackburn said he's heard similar stories of pets getting trapped for days or even weeks at a time and surviving.
Blackburn said the cat may have lived off of its excess fat.
Copyright 2007 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved

Entregandoles las noticias que tienen que saber,

Peridodista Sauve

Micro Fiao

2007-11-25T07:59:00.000-06:00

Muhammad Yunus has had phenomenal success helping people lift themselves out of poverty in rural Bangladesh by providing them with credit without requiring collateral. Yunus developed his revolutionary micro-credit system with the belief that it would be a cost effective and scalable weapon to fight poverty.
Yunus told his story and that of the bank in the book "Banker to the Poor," co-authored by him and Alan Jolis. In the book, Yunus recalls that in 1974 he was teaching economics at a Chittagong University in southern Bangladesh, when the country experienced a terrible famine in which thousands starved to death.
"We tried to ignore it," he says. "But then skeleton-like people began showing up in the capital, Dhaka. Soon the trickle became a flood. Hungry people were everywhere. Often they sat so still that one could not be sure whether they were alive or dead. They all looked alike: men, women, children. Old people looked like children, and children looked like old people.
The thrill he had once experienced studying economics and teaching his students elegant economic theories that could supposedly cure societal problems soon left him entirely. As the famine worsened he began to dread his own lectures.
"Nothing in the economic theories I taught reflected the life around me. How could I go on telling my students make believe stories in the name of economics? I needed to run away from these theories and from my textbooks and discover the real-life economics of a poor person's existence."
Yunus went to the nearby village of Jobra where he learned the economic realities of the poor. Yunus wanted to help, and he cooked up several plans working with his students. He found that one of his many ideas was more successful than the rest: offering people tiny loans for self-employment. Grameen Bank was born and an economic revolution had begun.
***
Grameen Bank has reversed conventional banking wisdom by focusing on women borrowers, dispensing of the requirement of collateral and extending loans only to the very poorest borrowers. In fact, to qualify for a loan from the Grameen Bank, a villager must demonstrate that her family owns less than one half acre of land.
The bank has provided $4.7 billion dollars to 4.4 million families in rural Bangladesh. With 1,417 branches, Grameen provides services in 51,000 villages, covering three quarters of all the villages in Bangladesh. Yet its system is largely based on mutual trust and the enterprise and accountability of millions of women villagers.
Today, more than 250 institutions in nearly 100 countries operate micro-credit programs based on the Grameen Bank model, while thousands of other micro-credit programs have emulated, adapted or been inspired by the Grameen Bank. According to one expert in innovative government, the program established by Yunus at the Grameen Bank "is the single most important development in the third world in the last 100 years, and I don't think any two people will disagree."
(Excerpt from http://www.pbs.org/)

Here is a great site to begin your own micro-lending: http://www.kiva.org/ (or double click on "Es Obvio" above).

Me quedo impresionado,

P. Suave

Dia de Accion de Gracias

2007-11-22T17:36:00.000-06:00

Do we thank English or Spanish Pilgrims? Let the P.C. Police decide. In the meantime, thank God. Thanks, God.

Agradecido,

Peps y Familia

Feliz Cumpleanos

2007-11-11T05:01:00.000-06:00

It is brother Casi Italiano's birthday today. As well, it is Veteran's day in the U.S., and Remembrance day in Canada. It is appropriate that we remember our veterans on CI's birthday. Why, he is a veteran himself, a veteran of mishaps and misfortune. You may remember, Neglected Reader, the tale of CI's fall from a tree which rendered him without memory of his own name until dinner time (see December, 06 entries). Or the time the author of these words inadvertently set CI's beetles-style mop afire with a book of matches. Or the time he ran full-force, face-first smack into an oak tree as he chased Sil the Milkman's truck, hoping for a free Popsicle (instead, he got a bag of frozen peas to ebb the swelling); a side note, CI still doesn't look where he is running, he simply doesn't run anymore. Hasn't smacked an oak since. I digress. Or the time he developed such a taste for corn on the cob he was hospitalized for corn-induced constipation. Ouch. Or the time he simultaneously smoked-out and skunked-out a neighbors house while babysitting. Fault CI for using the ornamental logs to start the fire in the ornamental fire place, but the skunk in the crawl space was some Higher Power's idea of a punch line. Divine overkill, if you ask me. Give the kid a break, for 2 Canadian bucks an hour to watch kids, you're lucky the cherubs are only hickory smoked and stinky by the end of the night. Pardon, again, the digression. As funny as that CI story is, I have the filial urge to defend.
He ain't heavy. He's my brother.
Let's doff our caps to our Casi Italiano today, and bid him a fine birthday.
CI, my legions of Readers and I wish you a year rich in fortune and an idle health care deductible.

Tu hermano,

Pepino Suave

Vuelvo

2007-10-25T18:43:00.000-05:00

Hi America. It has been awhile since this ol' Pepino has tapped out an entry. Sorry for the lapse. It is not that I have forgotten you, dear Readers. No, I am simply re-tooling. I've changed jobs, Dear Pepina has joined the work force full-time (and is breaking in a new co-worker), and Li'l Talea enters mid-elementary.
Yes, I've resigned my position at Pepinoville Public Schools and moved on to Pepinoville Heights Public Schools (the districts motto: No Free Lunch Here). I've been busier than a one-legged man on an obstacle course.
Seems the goal of my current bastion of lower learning is to teach well while being as busy as possible doing so. It is a less reflective and more reactive environment, to say the least.
One last reflection before I start another day reacting:
I thought fund-raising was done when funds were needed. The fact that extremely wealthy communities perform countless fundraising activities seems a bit redundant. You've already raised the funds, people, and then some. Why re-raise funds you already have a lot of (pardon the dangle)? Get this: recently, our school in The Heights raised thousands of dollars by selling tickets to a dance that never existed. No kidding - they called it a "No-Show Ball". The gimmick is you just buy a ticket, and you don't have to go through the bother of going to the ball. Thousands of dollars for a no-show event. No wonder these folks are rich. Ingenious. No overhead. Just sell the tickets.
Maybe I could sell them on No-Learn Fifth Grade. I'd be the richest man in education. Pay me, your kids don't have to show up to my room. Ever. Cha-ching.

Pensandolo bien,

Profesor Suave

El Jefe

2007-10-05T18:48:00.000-05:00

Words of wisdom from The Boss:

"These Are Better Days" by Bruce Springsteen

Well my soul checked out missing as I sat listening
To the hours and minutes tickin’ away
Yeah just sittin’ around waitin’ for my life to begin
While it was all just slippin’ away
I’m tired of waitin’ for tomorrow to come
Or that train to come roarin’ ’round the bend
I got a new suit of clothes, a pretty red rose
And a woman I can call my friend
These are better days baby
Yeah there’s better days shining through
These are better days baby
Better days with a girl like you
Well I took a piss at fortune’s sweet kiss
It’s like eatin’ caviar and dirt
It’s sad funny ending to find yourself pretending
A rich man in a poor man’s shirt
Now my ass was draggin’ when from a passin’ gypsy wagon
Your heart like a diamond shone
Tonight I’m layin’ in your arms carvin’ lucky charms
Out of these hard luck bones
These are better days baby
These are better days it’s true
These are better days
There’s better days shining through
Now a life of leisure and a pirate’s treasure
Don’t make much for tragedy
But it’s a sad man my friend who’s livin’ in his own skin
And can’t stand the company
Every fool’s got a reason for feelin’ sorry for himself
And turning his heart to stone
Tonight this fool’s halfway to heaven and just a mile outta hell
And I feel like I’m comin’ home
These are better days baby
There’s better days shining through
These are better days
Better days with a girl like you
These are better days baby
These are better days it’s true
These are better days
Better days are shining through

En la lucha,

P. Suave

La Negociante

2007-09-12T19:37:00.000-05:00

Get them while they're hot:

Li'l Pepinita's Hand-Crafted Pot Holders

They are $3.oo a pop, and she is offering a new pattern each week, to be revealed on this very blog.
A pot holder would make a great gift for Christmas, or any other holiday! Buy your boss a pot holder for President's day; a swatch of yarn for grandma on Labor Day!
You snooze, you lose!

No hay fiao,

P. Suave

Ganamos

2007-08-26T19:37:00.000-05:00

One picture. A thousand words.

The Summer Series of Euchre with Joe and Pete was more fun than pigs in mud, and included a trip to the beach.
We plan to return to the beach during the Winter '08 series, see a hockey game, and continue the euchre tournament.

Vencemos,

P. "Doble Euchre" Suave

Pete & Joe

2007-08-26T06:58:00.000-05:00

The semi-annual Pete & Joe Euchre And A Game tour of Pepinoville is being held this weekend. This summer's event has been modified to Euchre And A Trip To The Beach, as the boys arrived late and P. Suave altered the agenda several times, leaving all parties baffled as to what, where, and how.
Last night's first round of the summer euchre series found Joe and Peppy on top, 3 games to 2. Pepina and Pete have no comment.
More to follow. We're off to the beach...

Barajando,

P. "What's Trump?" Suave

Ya

2007-08-12T05:27:00.000-05:00

We finished. That's right, Dear Pepina and I transformed our neo-Eisenhower era den into a neo-Home Depot era den. And we're still talking! In fact, as we held each other, gazing at our freshly completed paint job, we planned our (seperate) vacations next year. Then Pepina released me from the head-lock, I untwisted her arm, and we went about cleaning up the brushes.

Here are pictures of our obra maestra, as it dries. Stay tuned for the "after" pix - with furniture in place and a roaring mid-august fire in the hearth.

Afanado,

Pintor Suave

El Gallo Pinto No Pinta

2007-08-07T06:50:00.000-05:00

We've impulsively decided to paint the den, a room that hasn't been updated since the early sixties. Pepina primed the fireplace while I prepped the chocolate brown paneled walls and the wall-papered ceiling (we've decided to take down the faux wood Styrofoam beams - I carried them out to the trash looking much stronger than a wiry middle aged pepino should).
As of this morning, our marriage is intact and we continue to communicate civilly.
Stay tuned for the next step of the project: The First Coat or The Friday Fiasco

El que pinta es el pintor,

Pepino Pintor

Hay Pero Que Calor

2007-08-04T20:02:00.000-05:00

Top 10 Summer '07 Things:
1. Hot, Hot, Hot
2. Corn on the cob
3. Peaches
4. YMCA Pool
5. Sprinklers
6. Lot's of Li'l Pepinita time
7. One-a-day icecream, with a Lipitor chaser
8. Air conditioned libraries
9. Aimless escapes (favorite so far: tubing the Muskeegon river. 4.5 hours of wet idleness)
10. Rinse, then repeat #'s 1-9

Calorifico,

P. Cogiendolo Suave

Un Exito

2007-07-28T21:00:00.000-05:00

Relay for Life keeps walkers close to home
Saturday, July 28, 2007
By Matt VandebunteThe Grand Rapids Press
COMSTOCK PARK -- The first four years after her mother died of cancer, Ingrid Fournier and the rest of "Barb's Bunch" walked in the Relay for Life of Rockford.
This year, the group is staying closer to home for its annual effort to honor the memory of Barbera Hekman, taking part in the American Cancer Society's first 24-hour walk-a-thon in Comstock Park.
"This is so much more meaningful," said Fournier, 40. "It belongs to Comstock Park now. We're doing this with neighbors and we're meeting new people. It's a community."
Fournier and her teammates from Zion Lutheran Church are one of 14 teams at the inaugural Comstock Park event, one of about 20 relays in West Michigan this year. Another relay is scheduled for next weekend at East Grand Rapids High School.
The Comstock Park walk started Friday afternoon and continues through 3 p.m. today, with people on the track the whole time to symbolize that cancer never sleeps.
To meet a $35,000 total fundraising goal, teams collect donations for the cancer society and during the relay sell food, toys and services out of large tents.
An evening ceremony was to feature candles inside decorated bags.
Held on the track at Comstock Park High School, the relay includes live entertainment and hourly themes such as a lap Friday in honor of Chris Pierson, a Greenridge Elementary School teacher who died in February 2006 of leukemia.

A note from the P.Suave Editorial Board: Both Barb's Bunch and the Comstock Park event as a whole exceeded their goals; a total of $35,100 was raised during this inaugural event, $1,590 of which by the Barb's Bunch team.

Que duerman bien,

Pepino Dormilon

Team Suave

2007-07-27T05:54:00.000-05:00

Comstock Park: Teacher to be remembered
Thursday, July 26, 2007
By Matt Vande BunteThe Grand Rapids Press

PLAINFIELD TOWNSHIP -- Chris Pierson led her colleagues to Relay for Life events in Ada and Rockford on several occasions.
On Friday, when the American Cancer Society's 24-hour walk-a-thon comes to Comstock Park for the first time, staff and supporters of Greenridge Elementary School will again rally around the former special education teacher.
Pierson died of leukemia in early 2006, but many said she will be there in spirit at the inaugural event, scheduled to step off at 3 p.m. on the track at Comstock Park High School, 150 Six Mile Road NE.
Of the many special activity laps planned hourly, a Kids Lap with balloons and signs in honor of Pierson is slated for 4 p.m. Friday.
"You can just show up, even walk around the track to show your support," said Emily Garneau, a Greenridge office aide and co-captain of the school's relay team. "I'm sure she'd be happy that (Relay for Life) has come to Comstock Park. We just want to make her proud."
The relay will include about 16 teams that keep at least one member walking on the track until 3 p.m. Saturday. The public is invited to the fund-raiser, which will feature live music, volleyball and several activities planned by individual teams.
The Greenridge squad, for example, plans to set up a Hawaiian-themed tent where members will sell nail polishing and hair-braiding services.
Walkers are encouraged to take part in hourly themes including trick-or-treating, pajama party, jump roping and ball bouncing. A "Miss Relay" fundraiser at 8 p.m. Friday will crown the man dressed in drag who collects the most donations. At other times, people can pay $5 to change the song being played.
And at 9:30 p.m. Friday, a luminaria ceremony, featuring candles inside decorated bags, will honor cancer victims and survivors, as well as people still fighting the disease. Bags are available for $10 by calling Garneau at 647-4071.
Greenridge staff plan to remember Pierson by spelling out her name with one letter per bag.
"That is going to be very impressive to see," said Pierson's father, James Pierson, who will walk with his wife, Paula. "It really brings to light just how many people have died.
"We know that Chris would have been one of the organizers had she been here. (Relay) has been a very big part of our life, and especially my daughter's."
Chris Pierson died in February 2006 from complications with leukemia. She previously survived a bought with ovarian cancer and got active in Relay for Life, serving on an organizing committee for the Rockford relay.
Pierson's former students and their parents are invited to be part of the Greenridge team.
"She absolutely adored those children," James Pierson said. "They were her whole life."

Bob the Gorilla Editorial Board notes: Barb's Bunch, the famed relay team from Pepinoville, will be in attendance at the Comstock Park inaugural event, after a few years of participating in the Rockford Relay. Li'l Pepinita and cousins Salchicha, Bailarin, Fotografa, Linguista, and El Tigre, will be in attendance as well. Bompa Suave may dress and walk as a women (sic) if Pepina uses her communications degree effectively.

Andale,

P. Suave y La Junta Directiva Gorila

Los Chavitos

2007-07-23T19:28:00.000-05:00

Above are some shots taken at the orphanage we visited outside of Cuernavaca. The bottom picture is the cafeteria and the orphans doing clean-up.

Me queda impresionado,

P.Suave

Traviesa

2007-07-14T20:46:00.000-05:00

Li'l Pepinita is a caution. While in Mexico, we visited a spring-fed water park. It was 4-some acres of water ponds, pools, rivers, and crazy trial lawyer loving recreation stuff: cement diving boards, slippery cement steps, deep water with currents, swings, rope walks, Tarzan ropes, and so much more.
Li'l Pepinita is pictured here just before, and while, she jumped from about 20 feet into the mouth of the spring. The spring itself was about 40 feet wide and spewed hundreds of gallons of water every minute, feeding the park with crystal clear, cool water.
She surfaced unscathed several times. Her day was cut short, though, when she belly flopped 8 feet off the rope bridge into a swift river. I dropped my taco and dove in to assist mi vida, only to have her hand me her pink swim shoes so she could swim herself to shore. Hardy stock.

No nado nada,

Pepino S.

A Pezcar

2007-07-14T05:23:00.000-05:00

Li'l Pepinita and cousin Salchicha passed the morning along the shores of Rio Dill. After using a dozen worms, and at least as many various lures, they went home fishless.

Me encanta el verano,

P. Daddy

Chicharrones

2007-07-11T21:00:00.000-05:00

Chicharrones, called pork rinds on this side of the border, have no carbohydrates. Besides that, fried pork skins have nothing to contribute to overall health. Yet, they are crunchy, salty, melt-in-your-mouth delicious. I love them so much that, occasionally, I eat enough in one sitting to satisfy my saturated fat level for a month. Front-loading.

During our Mexico trip we had the opportunity to witness the confection of the tasty porcine treat. We visited a self-sustaining orphanage. That is, the residents (children from infants to teen-age) and the staff cultivate and prepare their own food. During our entire visit, I never saw an infant cultivating anything. They're such babies.

At the top of this entry, you see a coldron of hot oil with pig skin floating on top, followed by a picture of a future bag of pork rinds. Just below him is a wheel-barrow of slop gleaned from the cafeteria left-overs, and used to feed the hogs. You can also see the cooking area, with wood piled high to fuel the cooking fire. The last picture shows the pig pens (similar in sight and smell to Li'l Pepinita's bedroom).

Sabrosisimo,

Pepino Puerco

Independence Day

2007-07-04T22:03:00.000-05:00

During our lay-over in Dallas today, soldiers began walking from their arrival gate along a mezzanine concourse above the airport mall. Everyone in the mall began to applaud. Those sitting stood up and clapped. Those wearing hats took them off and clapped. Little kids joined in, as did people from all walks of life. Some folks had tears in their eyes. Everyone applauded until the last soldier was out of sight.

Dichoso ser Norteamericano,

P. Suave

Volvemos

2007-07-04T21:44:00.000-05:00

Gemela and Li'l Pepinita became fast friends during our short journey to Cuernavaca. Although tears were shed when we had to leave, we were thrilled that Li'l Pepinita had a great experience (thanks to our new friends Paco, Cheli. and sweet Gemela, our hosts during our stay).
Muchas gracias to nieghbor Pelotero and two of the four best grandparents in the world, Bompa and Abuelita for caring for La Gata Diabolica and the Hacienda Suave during our absence.

!Viva America!

P. Gringo Andariego Suave

Llegamos

2007-06-27T13:02:00.000-05:00

La Familia Suave arrived in Cuernavaca yesterday afternoon. We met our Mexican Family (the folks that will be rooming and bording us for the week) almost immediatly after arriving. They took us to their beautiful home, where Li´l Pepinita was thrilled to find out that they have an 8 year-old daughter! The two girls spent the rest of the afternoon and night playing. This morning, she spent five ours in a class with two other girls and two boys. She´s loving that, too.
Mama Pepina and I spent the morning in classes, too.
More later.

Siempre primavera aqui,

Peps

Universal

2007-06-23T06:13:00.000-05:00

Double click on the title, "Universal" above (or go to www.universal-spanish.com), and you'll get an idea of where La Familia Suave will be spending our days next week.
Universal is a language school in Cuernavaca (Morelos, Mexico). On Monday, we will join a group of students, parents, and the principal of Pepina's school who have already spent a week of study, field trips, and fun at Universal. We plan to catch up fast as we join them during the seecond week of the adventure.

Hasta luego,

P. Viajero

La Carnicera

2007-06-23T05:47:00.000-05:00

Las Chicas Suave visited The Butcher of Pepinoville yesterday. Li'l Pepinita had six inches of locks lopped off within minutes, Pepina two. You'd think The Butcher got paid by the inch.
To be honest, they do look sassy.

Una casa con poco pelo,

P. Pelado

La Mumia del Sotano

2007-06-22T06:57:00.000-05:00

If you turn your head side-ways you'll see Li'l Pepinita disguised as a Mummy. I left her in the basement unsupervised, as I putzed upstairs. After a long and suspicious silence, she came lumbering into the office, grunting and bumping into walls and furniture on the way.

Mi hija es una locura,

Papi Peppi

El Verano

2007-06-22T06:22:00.000-05:00

Summer's officially here. The piddling of sprinklers, the fever-induced-nightmare-like music of the ice cream truck (How does "She'll Be Coming Around The Mountain When She Comes", on a loop, on synthesized organ, sell more ice cream? Ice cream sells itself, if you ask 'ol Pepino. Why not just have the sound of the truck's engine idling be the only sound. Lord knows a kid figures out the ice cream truck is coming using a far keener sense than mere sound. I think a kid knows whats coming when the ice cream truck guy turns the ignition back at the ice cream truck depot. Uncanny. Save the "I'm Popeye the Sailor Man" keyboarded loop for outing deposed dictators from monasteries, for crying out loud. Sorry, I've digressed), the slap of the sandal, the hum of the fan all welcomes in the dog days of summer.
Featured here during these vernal days will be accounts of the Familia Suave's travails to beat the heat sans air conditioning, their struggle to consume one ice cream per day, and updates on the progress of the family tomato plant (thanks for watering it Grandma Suave).

Llega el calor,

P. Suave

Bang! Pow! Boom!

2007-06-20T05:31:00.000-05:00

Due to Opa's health concerns, La Familia Sauve had postponed our summer journey south of the border. We will leave early next week, while sister Agronima and neices Bailarina y Barista take care of things Opa.
Li'l Pepinita has become a raquetball nut. Since Tio Chris came to town with his raquet, she has acquired a keen interest in slapping balls against walls. We've played twice this week at the YPCA, and she still hasn't had enough.
Do my words seem a little droopy? Do you sense some fatigue in ol' Pepino? Pardon the malaise, but I'm still catching up on sleep lost due to the Nieghborly Pyromaniac Nightly Firework Display performed by our Pepinoville nieghbors. Seems a calendar and local ordinance codes need be sent to our fair firebugs. Last count, our sleepy lane consists of 4 babies, 11 school-age children, and several twitchy house pets that might be considered before lighting illegal explosives well before an appropriate occasion.
We'll be gone on the 4th....

Bomba,

Pepino Vecino

Pepinita

2007-06-17T19:28:00.001-05:00

Pepinita has got a new entry - hot off the press. Click on Li'l Pepinita on the side bar, and enjoy.

Un padre orgulloso,

Papi Pepi

Muy Agradecido

2007-06-15T20:25:00.000-05:00

Included on my list of Professions That Deserve A Hearty Slap On The Back (PTDAHSOTB) are health care folks, especially nurses and neo-nurses. Thank you, on behalf of all things Pepino.
Mr. Health Care Professional Guy/Gal, this one is for you.

Les agradecimos,

La Familia Suave

El Fin De La Temporada Escolar

2007-06-10T06:19:00.000-05:00

School's out. No more teacher's dirty looks (Note to self: work on getting along with colleagues). Anyway, here we are, the time of year everyone and their brother envies Pepino's job. Stay tuned for a new special feature, the Pickled Summer Vacation BlogLog (What a Teacher Does When School's Out). In the meantime, I leave you with an excerpt from a recent education association newsletter. After a few seconds of Google research, I found it to be fictional, but still something a weary educator can identify with (and laugh at) - pardon the dangle:

The following is an answering machine message for the Pacific Palisades High School in California. The school and teachers were being sued by parents who wanted their children's failing grades changed to passing grades even though those children were absent 15-30 times during the semester and did not complete enough school work to pass their classes.
This was voted unanimously by the office staff as the actual answering machine message for the school:
"Hello! You have reached the automated answering service of your school. In order to assist you in connecting with the right staff member, please listen to all your options before making a selection:
To lie about why your child is absent - Press 1
To make excuses for why your child did not do his/her work - Press 2
To complain about what we do - Press 3
To swear at staff members - Press 4
To ask why you didn't get information that was already enclosed in your newsletter and several fliers mailed to you - Press 5
If you want us to raise your child - Press 6
If you want to reach out and touch, slap or hit someone - Press 7
To request another teacher for the third time this year - Press 8
To complain about bus transportation - Press 9
To complain about school lunches - Press 0
If you realize this is the real world and your child must be accountable/responsible for his/her own behavior, class work, homework, and that it's not the teachers' fault for your child(ren)'s lack of effort, hang up and have a nice day!"

Alice Cooper lo decia,

Pepino Veranero

Yankees/Red Sox

2007-06-05T20:13:00.000-05:00

O.K. I went to Boston last weekend and was supposed to write about it while I was there. I was too busy getting there and getting back to write. So I'll provide a Boston BlogLog, patent pending:

1. Drive to Pepinoville International Airport and the show begins.
2. Fly backwards in time to Chicage, only to arrive the same time I left Pepinoville.
3. Dask to my gate for the next flight. Mid-dash purchase water for the same price as a gallon of gas.
4. Arrive in Boston, walk to bus shuttle, get off at T-station, and take the train to downtown. I'm at my hotel within a half-hour, plane-to-lobby. Love that muddy water.
5. As I cross the lobby, my Pepino Phone rings, its our friend Meeker on the line, a Beantown resident, telling me she'll meet me in twenty minutes.
6. I'm led on a history-walk thrue downtown Boston, led by dear Meeker. We stop and watch the Yankee/Red Sox game at every bar along the walk. We libate, too.
7. Hear the tune, "Love that Muddy Water" on a constant loop in my head.
8. After too little time, see Meeker off, and attend some serious sit n' git meetings.
9. Repeat steps 1,2, 3, and 4 in reverse, and arrive in the wee hours of Monday morning.

Me encanta el lodo,

Peppy

P.D. Mil gracias Meeker. Volvemos pronto...

Memorial Day

2007-05-28T06:40:00.000-05:00

"A heroe is someone who has given his or her life for something bigger than oneself"

-Joseph Cambell

Once

2007-05-25T19:55:00.000-05:00

Eleven years ago today Pepina and I exchanged vows. Padre Sayers said we'd love each other less that day than we would the rest of our lives. Although we raised an eyebrow at the celebate monk, his words ring true. In fact, tonight we've agreed to have a go at it another eleven years.

Eleven is heaven.

Un esposo contentisimo,

P. Suave de Pepina

Semana Soleada

2007-05-20T05:22:00.000-05:00

Li'l Pepinita got a double. Yesterday, she stepped up to the plate and sent a ball into the outfield. As a veteran in the coach-pitch softball league, the girl is hitting her stride. Last year she watched alot of balls, and struck out tons, too. We're not sure she even had fun. This year, she is running out to position, running into the bench, and laughing all the time. Swatting the ball like she is paid to. It helps that her team mates are enjoying the game and learning, as well.
Bompa, Grandma, Pepina, Li'l Pepinita and Yo spent yesterday afternoon playing in the sun at family friend Ardy's house. We tore up part of her yard, planted stuff, and fetched a stuck Pepinita out of a tree. In the evening, Ardy treated us to pizza, ice cream, and a Skippo game or two at Opa's house.
Li'l Pepinita and her Li'l Pal sang a duet, "Jesus Take the Wheel", in her school's talent show last week. They're Idol bound one day.
I got the blade off the lawn mower, finally.
How 'bout them gas prices.
Can't beat the weather.

I think I've run out of points to bullet. Enjoy your week. I will.

Atentamente,

P. Suave

Dia de las Madres

2007-05-13T08:58:00.000-05:00

I am Mama Suave's son. Three other fortunate souls on this earth can stake that claim. Periodista, Casi Italiano, young Monja, and myself have had our lives nurtured by the sweet lady from Coram avenue. She raised us as the child bride of a Detroit Policeman in a two bedroom bungalow across the street from her childhood home. By the time she had reached my current level of "maturity", her youngest was college-age. Today she is the swashbuckling investment broker for the Suave Family Fortune and the matriarch of a cross-country legacy, most of whose members still leave the seat up.
We raise our glasses of 2% milk and toast you, Mom, the author of our days...

Tu hijo orgulloso,

Peppy

Hermano Crispy

2007-05-09T19:36:00.000-05:00

Our neighborhood had alleys. An alley wasn't just for garbage. A whole underground of activities transpired on the double track that split the backyards from one side of the block to the other. Bird catching, tag games, rock throwing, and, to my brother's chagrin, match-lighting. I was the resident pyro, and Casi Italiano was a semi-innocent bystander. I had just learned the skill of setting a whole book of matches on fire and called over to CI, "Hey come look!" My myopic brother did just that, his head bent down toward my hands, squinting at me as I fumbled with the matches. My mini-inferno flamed up and set CI's hair on fire. I started slapping at him like Curly on Mo. CI had no idea why I was accosting him until his scalp starting burning, then he started auto-slapping. We must have been a picture. Once extinguished, CI started picking at his singed hair. Finally, he flashed a look at me that I had become accustomed to; a mixture of contempt, dismay, astonishment, with a sprinkle of anger.
There you have it, THE DAY I SET CASI ITALIANO'S HEAD ON FIRE

No soy ningun bombero,

Pepster

Cabeza Quemada

2007-05-05T20:38:00.000-05:00

Did I tell you about the time I set Casi Italiano's head afire?
America decides: if you want to hear about my brother's burning coco, comment below. Don't want to wast your time. If atleast five americans, or ten of foreign origin, comment requesting the narrative, I will oblige. No comments? More cut and past articles about American education issues. So there.

Esperando su respuesta,

P. "Fosforo" Suave

Not On The Front Page

2007-04-30T05:24:00.000-05:00

From CNN Online:

The cost of educating border-crossing children

POSTED: 9:01 p.m. EDT, April 29, 2007 CNN News Online
HOUSTON, Texas (AP) -- Thousands of Mexican children are flocking across the U.S. border to attend school, sparking a debate in towns along the border over whether U.S. taxpayers should have to bear the costs of educating them.
The border crossing is so common in El Paso that officials opened a special lane just for students this month.
The Houston Chronicle reported Sunday that more than 1,200 people passed through that lane from Mexico on a recent morning.
Some were college or private school students, but many were coming to attend public schools.
The influx has prompted complaints from those opposed to spending U.S. tax dollars to teach students from Mexico.
The issue is especially timely in El Paso, where the school district -- which expects to take in 10,000 new students in the next five to eight years -- is preparing for a $230 million bond election for new schools next month.
Elaine Hampton, a professor at the University of Texas-El Paso, says the strained state of public education in Mexico pushes many students across the Rio Grande, just as the hope of better jobs entices their parents.
The growth of Mexican border towns like Ciudad Juarez far outpaces the government's ability to build schools, Hampton said, forcing many to turn away students. Mexican schools also can be too expensive for some parents, charging fees for books, photocopies and sometimes even the cost of administering a test.
Although many school officials are unhappy about the situation, they say there are few ways to control the number of Mexican residents attending their schools.
As long as a parent or guardian has proof of residency in that school district -- such as a water bill or lease -- their child can attend. Many of the students were born in U.S. hospitals, making them U.S. citizens who live in Mexico. Others use the addresses of American friends or relatives.
Community pressure has pushed other districts to crack down on those who violate residency requirements.
Susan Carlson, a spokeswoman for the United ISD in Laredo, said her district's schools are extra vigilant with residency checks and recently began fining students found breaking residency rules.
Luis Villalobos, a spokesman for the El Paso Independent School District, said the district has seven officers checking out potentially false addresses.
Copyright 2007 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.

Se Cae

2007-04-26T20:34:00.000-05:00

Did I tell you about one of the times Casi Italiano almost died? It was a cool autumn afternoon in the late 70's. The three siblings Suave - Periodista, Casi Italiano and myself were playing Public Safety Officers and Fleeing Suspects on the vacant property on Pigeon beach, next to the abondoned cottage. While Periodista and I were hugging the ground shooting each other, Casi Italiano climbed an old weeping willow tree and dangled above us. Periodista and I were absorded in our efforts to riddle each other with imaginary bullets, when Casi Italiano appeared between us in a puff of dust. He fell belly-first with a muffled thud, and bounced once. He didn't move for awhile. Niether did Periodista or I, caught as we were between wanting to laugh at how funny this was, or panic and shriek like school girls. Eventually we hurried over to our fallen brother and poked him a bit, saying, "Hey, get up", and "Are you all right?". For what seemed an eternity the boy didn't breath. We gathered him up and shook him a bit, and he finally sucked in some air. Once he appeared to have come to his senses we let go and headed for home. Except Casi Italiano didn't follow, he just rambled on a path back through the field. We caught up to him and gave him the test we'd seen given to boxers on t.v. shows, "What's your name?", "What day is it?", "How many fingers...". We just got grunts from the poor lad.
We brought him back to Erie house with much effort, as he attempted to ramble away every few yards. Granny, shocked to see a catotonic kid stumble into the house, put him to bed with a wet rag on his forehead.
In the next installment of The Times That Casi Italiano Almost Died I will recount for the Dear Reader the time Yours Truly set Casi Italiano's head on fire.

Que dichosos somos,

Peps

Sheryl Crow

2007-04-23T05:19:00.000-05:00

I am a fan of Sheryl Crow. She is a real big celebrity. She sings. She writes songs. She performs. Hence, I go to her for advice. Actually, she comes to me with her advice. As well, she comes to government officials with her advice and wags her talented finger.
Recently Sheryl offered us the latest in Celebrity Two-Bits We Didn't Solicit (CTBWDS). She wants us to use a nary one square of toilet paper @ sitting to address natures call, maybe a couple more on sittings when nature is more aggressive. This she brainstormed between gigs on her tour bus.
May I opine? A few suggestions for my Sheryls and Bruces and Chicks and Shawn Penns and whatnot:

1. Go acoustic. Always.
2. Refrain from electronic amplification of your voice or instruments.
3. Interviews should be done only with journalists using notebooks and pencil. Shoot, notebooks and pencils are the Auschwitz of our forests... Don't do interviews.
4. Use public transportation. And green public transportation, at that. Don't disappoint. I'd be broken hearted to see Angela and Brad lugging their gaggle of kiddies in a non-hybrid taxi.
5. Concerts should be lit by natural lighting. Day shows only.
6. All celebrities should live and pontificate in communal villages that put in to practice ideas sprung from very fortunate people with lots of leisure time and a huge public platform from which to spew.

Think of it. My ideas, adopted by real smart celebrities, and this world will be as green as a pickle....

Boca chancleta,

Profesor Suave

En Huelga

2007-04-21T20:36:00.000-05:00

Pardon the sabbatical. I was protesting the weather.

Now it is nice; seventy degrees and sunny.

I blog again.

Llegue,

Peps

Llega la Primavera

2007-04-14T10:46:00.000-05:00

Spring is in the air. Somewhere. As I shoveled my drive this week, I planned my spring projects. Shoving slush to the side, I began to prioritize the projects by cost, time to complete, and marital stress. The cost criteria has been made simple, thanks to the economy. Our budget for the season is the sum total of our returnables in the garage. That knocks off the patio project, which would have been directed by Bompa Suave.
Bompa didn't volunteer, it is just that he has an impressive wood deck background. Over several years he and a swarthy gang of buddies, weekend carpenters all, have managed to install a wood deck that spans the entire north shore of Lake Erie. Although dear Pepina and I plan on a low-key 12x12 affair, Bomps might wind up engineering a deck that would render my lawnmower useless.
The shed project is off the list, too. The Suave one-car garage is that in theory only. The Asian Express is parked sideways in bad weather, its so tight in there. You can open the car, reach out, and open the house without getting out of the car. Yes, a shed would be nice. That is, if there is room for it after the deck is built.
Reality is, our spring projects consist of fueling the lawnmower and then cutting the lawn on a regular basis. It we are especially motivated, we might apply water, sparingly.

Gozando de la primavera,

P. Suave

The Captain

2007-04-06T21:03:00.000-05:00

Mr. Steve Yzerman, the Red Wing legend, visited Pepinoville tonight. He dropped the puck to begin the game. Li'l Pepinita appeared on the big screen holding her Red Wings poster. It was a fitting night of fun as we celebrated El Lector's birthday with many of his friends and family in attendance.

Cinco por pelear,

Pepino "Blue Line" Suave

BlogLog 4

2007-04-01T17:43:00.000-05:00

1. Coffee/Potty routine
2. Newspaper check routine
3. Get pretty for church
4. Church
5. Opa's for dinner. Li'l Pepinita choose rollerblading as our after-dinner activity. We rollerbladed around the Villa Abuela (depending on the time of year, all of Li'l Pepinita's surviving grandparents live in the same apartment complex), only falling twice. Upon returning to Opa's apartment, we watched Bonanza. I miss that show.
6. Returned home to putz.
We're still putzing, but looking forward to the highlight of the evening: America's Favorite Videos. Get your popcorn...

Gozando de la vida,

P. "Vago" Suave

BlogLog 3.5 or "Vacation, All I Ever Wanted"

2007-04-01T06:07:00.000-05:00

Here I provide you with the remainder of Vacation Day 1, continued from yesterday's entry, everything that happened after I retrieved the paper, but merely in sequential order. I will not date stamp Suave BlogLogs for the rest of vacation, as Pepinita is mildly irritated that I check my watch whenever anything is said or done. Sorry. Happy wife, happy life.).

Post newspaper reading:

1. Li'l Pepinita arises from the two-thirds of a super-California-king size bed that she has occupied since she shifted from her bedroom to ours in the wee hours of the morning. She has superhuman stretching powers - she can elongate her 85 pounds of body mass to occupy the same space that the largest man on earth could occupy, lying prostrate. Some girl. Pepina and I go to the chiropractor often to offset of sleeping on a portion of the matress equivalent to an army cot.
2. Li'l Pepinita walks into the dinning room and exclaims, "I'm hungry". I make pancakes. She eats them as quickly as I make 'em. As she chews, she reveals her plans for April Fools Day. It's secret. I can't tell.
3. Pepina awakes. She ambles into the dining room holding her forehead. Bingo. First head cold of vacation*
4. Pepina shares with us a book idea she has, then proceeds to go off to the office and begin writing it. I take the pancakes to her, hence the sticky keyboard that now plagues me as I post this entry. Note that Pepina is often inspired musically or literally. What separates her from the mortals is her tendency to act on the inspiration. Immediately.
5. Li'l Pepinita tends to her hygiene while I mop up the kitchen and Pepina reads us her first draft.
6. Spring putzing. Three hours of clean this, move that, smell it, etc. Our first day of spring cleaning is usually "freestyle" putzing. We just keep moving, and let our creative side guide us. During our first session, our major accomplishments included: Pepina sterilized the bathroom, I moved the firewood from the garage to the backyard, and Li'l Pepinita inventoried her dominoes.
7. Lunch/read/nap
8. YPCA. While Pepina stayed home to nurse her vacation illness, Li'l Pepinita and I went to the YPCA. We usually begin our workout with one half-hour on the tredmill. Li'l Pepinita walks while watching cartoons, and I run while watching CNN. Why, this particular day a very polite YPCA assistant informed us that you had to be 10 years old to be on the machine. All this winter we had been breaking policy! We looked at each other in shock. We had broken a rule for health! Shaking it off, Talea moved one machine over to the bike and pedaled until Sponge Bob was over, then we went to the pool.
9, We arrived home, water still in our ears, to a homemade dinner, Mom sitting at the table waiting for us. I felt like Mr. Cleaver. 'Twas a tasy feast: nachos, salad, rice and beans, and yogurt and pineapple for dessert.
10. The girls watched/I slept through that baseball movie about the old pitcher/coach/science teacher (Dennis Quade) that made it to the Bigs.
11. I put Li'l Pepinita to bed, or visa versa
12. Lights out in the Sauve abode. Day 1 put to rest.

Descanso mucho,

P. Suave

*The Suave clan has a Kennedyesque tragic quality. We fall ill only during major holidays. We've fallen into the grip of pneumonia, bronchial infections, sinus infections, flu, and colds mostly during Thanksgiving and Easter holidays. It is an unsettling irony considering the fact that we enjoy fabulous good fortune during business hours. Ah, fate.

BlogLog 3 - Vacation Edition

2007-03-31T07:12:00.000-05:00

You asked for it, Suave Fans. Only here do we provide you with the ever-popular Pepino Sauve BlogLog - Vacation Edition. That's right, spring break began at 11:30 a.m. yesterday, when my little charges went charging out of the doors of Bob the Gorila's Home for Wayward Mocosos. To begin, I'll briefly log the morning, as the day has only just begun (does that make you hum a Carpenter's tune?), and then periodically BlogLog throughout our week of leisure:

6:15 Wake up breathing like an asthmatic, only to discover Anglela La Gata Diabolica, the inspiration of my first entry of vacation, sitting on my head.
6:16 Pad to the kitchen and fix a pot of coffee
6:19 Pad to the door to check for the paper, in vain (who am I kidding?)
6:23 Stretch in front of the t.v. As I do Pepino Yoga, I view an O.J. Simpson documentary on MSNBC, sip coffee, and avoid squashing a tenacious cat.
6:35 Inspired, I sit at the computer and begin my first entry of vacation, entitled, "La Gata Diabolica", literary candy about the family cat (see below), while checking for the morning paper every five minutes, in vain.
7:15 Succesfully retrieve the daily paper from the stoop, bring it into the office and finish this entry.

Stay tuned for more.

Leo el periodico,

Peps

La Gata Diabolica

2007-03-31T06:21:00.000-05:00

The photo above was just taken. It is a picture of the Suave family pet, Angela La Gata Diabolica. As I write these words, she is perched on the windowsill just to my left and above my head. She peers down at me as I craft this esoteric entry. We have obscured her eyes to help protect her anonimity. Once the picture is snapped, we take out the glowing red contacts, and leave Angela La Gata Diabolica in peace. We thank her for her help and patience in creating this post for our readership.
Angela la Gata Diabolica has been freeloading off the Familia Suave fortune since October. We welcomed her into our home upon Pepinita's 8th going on 21st birthday in October. Pepinita loves Angela, and versa visa. Still, fate may never have tossed the feline into our otherwise petless lives. If it weren't for the goodwill of Stosh the Pepinoville drunk, the Suave abode would be without a furry mooch. Yes, it was Stosh the Drunk who finally tired enough for me to pry the cat from his musty, street weary arms, and accept an economically-sized bottle of Pepperment libation in return. Although his weeping obscured his words, Stosh the Drunk seemed grateful. He raised a grimy eyebrow and said, and I paraphrase because his blubbering left him even more inarticulate than usual but with a queer old English accent, "My gratitude for tearing this burden from me, in exchange for this bottle of rotgut, you rogue....", he rambled. Street people. Anyway, I got a cat for my kid, and forcibly relieved an indigent of some worry. All in a day.
So that is how I came to have a cat stare at me from above while I tap out this essay. When not freaking me out, Angela the Gata Diabolica entertains Pepinita by letting herself be prodded, carried, tossed, and pulled. In between these torture sessions she sleeps in the sun, eats expensive cat food, poops and pees in expensive cat litter, and sits on our heads if we so much as stop moving for a moment.
Thank you Stosh the Drunk for the cat. It only took me a few days to wash the stench of the street from Angelica and myself. I will always consider our frenzied wrestling match for the cat a struggle of love. I only wish the police felt the same.

La gata me mira como la bruja que es,

P. Suave el Distinguido

Line-Leader of the Future

2007-03-25T20:09:00.000-05:00

Kindergartner Being Groomed For Line-Leader Position

BELLE MEADE, TN—Kindergarten teacher and mentor Mrs. Allen believes 6-year-old Gregory Hutter "has what it takes" for the coveted post.

Pepino Pals/Educational reformers: Read this about tomorrow's hope; the kindergarten line-leader. Double click on the title of the article for more.

Todo educativo,

Profesor Suave

Junior Varsity Frenesi

2007-03-24T06:30:00.000-05:00

Pictured above are some of the finest, most intellegent, photogenic students in Cuke County. They are playing the Junior Varsity version of the mad-cap fast-past game of Frenzy. Each student has a beautifully illustrated body part card. As the dealer gives a card to each student, the kids shout out, in Spanish, the name of the card ("Rey", "Diez", "Caballero"), until two kids get two of the same cards. Those two kids have to shout out the other kids designated body part first (ties go to the traditional "Piedra, Papel, Tijeras" (Rock, Paper, Scissors) tie-breaker). Loads of fun, tears and jeers included.

Me pagan por eso,

Profesor Suave

Maestro Raro ll

2007-03-24T06:29:00.000-05:00

Here, a fabulously talented second grader points to one of the three "ojos" of the wierd teacher illustration, a Bob el Gorila rite of passage.

No diga a nadie,

Profesor Suaveson

El Maestro Raro

2007-03-24T06:28:00.000-05:00

The Maestro Raro activity is the Spanish class equivalent to the Bar Mitzva. Early each spring, Yippee Skippee second graders identify facial features of the Wierd Teacher and become official Junior Varsity members of the Bob el Gorila Experience.

Above, Juan Diego Pasqual de la Mancha Raul Jackson is about to point out one of the two noses of the Weird Teacher. Congrats, Juan Diego, you are now one of us.

Super Orgulloso,

Prof. Suave

Mas Varsity Frenesi

2007-03-24T06:27:00.000-05:00

You can feel the competitive tension as varsity members of the March Madness Frenzi tournament is played on table 2, featuring the illustrations: El papa lee, el muchacho compra, la muchacha hace un sandwich de bologna, and finally the fan favorite, el hombre vende tortillas. May the best chamaco win!

Atentamente,

Prof. Suave

Varsity Frenesi

2007-03-24T06:26:00.000-05:00

There is nothing quite like the level of play in a Varsity Frenzy match. Picured above are competitors at table 1, where the highest level of competition can be found. Featured illustrations are: El caballo pregunta, El hombre lleva tortillas, El muchacho va, and El papa se sienta. Hold on to your sillas.

No se puesta nada,

Prof. Suave

Caricaturas

2007-03-20T05:12:00.000-05:00

The winter blues, mid-age funk, the-world-coming-to-and-end getting to you? Pepino S. has the answer for you: the daily cartoons. Watching/listening/reading the daily news slowly began to effect ol' Peppy. Iraq, angry conservatives, angry liberals, the economy, shockingly inept people-in-leadership, missing children, failed good guys, successful bad guys, all worked its way to make Yours Truly truly befuddled. News wasn't informing, it was simply depressing.
Until I turned to the daily comics. I'm not burying my head in the sand, no, I'm burying my head in Peanuts, Dennis the Menace, et al. Anything illustrated with a pen except Doonesbury (my fellow cartoon jonsers call it "Doomsbury").
Join us in our fight against media enhanced reality. Escape to the comics.

Salgo de la realidad,

Pepino "Mandrake" Suave

El Rostro

2007-03-17T19:56:00.000-05:00

The youngsters at Bob the Gorila's Home for Wayward Guerkins help create the portrait of Yours Truly featured above. Students were ordered, in Spanish, to grab a marker and draw a particular facial feature. The final product contained dos narices, dos ojos grandes, y un ojo chiquito, cuatro oidos, una boca grande, y mucho pelo. They were pleased with their work. I was unsettled.

Mas feo que el diablo,

Profesor Suave

Futbol

2007-03-17T08:49:00.000-05:00

Yea, I know. I am supposed to have an entry filled with profundity and dry wit this morning. Alas, it has been a long week without Pepino Parsed Prose, hasn't it Pepino Heads? Inspiration will have to wait 'till after Li'l Pepinita's futsol double-header this afternoon. We get two hours of pre-adolescent female athletics. This is one event in which the fans (parents) are much more interested in the match than the participants (girls).....

Hasta pronto,

Pepino Fanatico

Fresco

2007-03-11T20:12:00.000-05:00

An uneventful week in Pepinoville, home of things Suave. Weather turns towards spring, and a slow, sunny melt has turned the fluff into slush. Nieghbors meet at the end of the driveway and bang on ice, attempting to reclaim cement lost months ago. Cars carry a film of salt dust, and every other mailbox leans away from the snow plow or inexperienced driver that tapped them during the previous storms.
Futsol season nears an end as mitts and bats come up from the basement. The YMCA is less crowded. Humans begin to outnumber the geese at the park. The river unfroze.
I think I'll go sort out my shorts. Maybe take my bike off the garage rafter.

Llega la primavera,

Pepino S.

Pepino Musical

2007-03-09T04:53:00.000-06:00

Pepino Suave's "London Bridges" remix, "Orejas, Ojos, Nariz, Boca", has become a Yippie Skippie Top Ten hit throughout Pepinoville and the greater Pepinoville area. Kids are singing it in the hallways, minivans, and living rooms across the county. As they point to the appropriate facial features, the kids belt out the simple, yet inspired tune. Meanwhile, parents wince in pain.
The lyrics, for our Readers, are provided below, free of charge. No obligation. Keep your wallet in your pocket:

Orejas, ojos, nariz, boca

Nariz, boca

Orejas, ojos, nariz, boca

Mucho pelo!

Ears, eyes, nose, mouth

Nose, mouth

Nose, Mouth

Ears, eyes, nose, mouth

Lots of hair!

As the last line is sung, we run our fingers through our hair, or pat our pate, depending our own own personal hair line. Many Pepino Pupils take the opportunity, each time the song is performed, to point out the irony of my participation in the song. Bless the children.

Me pagan por eso,

Profesor Suave

Las Mananitas

2007-03-03T17:28:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow, Pepina celebrates 40 years on this pickled planet. My child bride is all growed up. Li'l Pepinita and I set out to take her on a Two Score Tour of the State. We had planned on taking her a few hours North to cross-county ski with her shiny-new cross country skis (hand selected by P.Suave His Self). Ironically, six inches of snow fell during the March Pepinoville night, and we got stuck in our own driveway at the outset of the journey. We decided on a much shorter trip. We found ourselves at a snow board park a nary 20 minutes from Casa Suave. Pepina and Li'l Pepinita giggled and tumbled for a few hundred acres, and then returned to the shed for hot cocoa. We're renting a room about five city blocks from our home, and are pretending we are at a ski lodge up North.
It's working.
See ya' on the slopes.

Demasiado nieve,

Pepino Resbaloso

Joe & Pete

2007-02-26T04:59:00.000-06:00

The 324th annual Winter Series of Euchre With the Boys tournament was held this weekend in slippery Pepinoville. Pepina and I competed against each other, teamed with the Detroit Duo of Joe (my mate) and Pete (Pepina's partner), for two days of neck-to-neck Euchre competition. The 24 hour throw-down was only interrupted by a hockey game and a short nap. By the time the Motor City Mad Men left, the result was:

Joe and Pepino S. 10 games won
Pete and Pepina, 9 games won

A pity game was held just before the Mad Men's departure. The results of which are inconsequential.

The 325th Annual Summer Series of Euchre with the Boys will be held during a Pepinoville Pukes homestretch in July. Joe and I expect a repeat in the heat.

Good game.

Ganamos,

P. "Baraja" Suave

P.D. Those who have followed the august Euchre Series with the Boys might expect a bitter entry regarding this weekend's competition on beloved Pepina's blog soon. Give her time...

PD2 Reruns. Refer to the July 23, 2006 entry about Joe and Pete's last visit to Pepinoville for the 324th Summer Series of Euchre with the Boys. It was another hallmark weekend. It was the one that Talea faced her mascotophobia, and we all received free bread. Check it out.

Una Conversacion Estudiantil

2007-02-24T06:41:00.000-06:00

Exhibit 1 of "The Attention Span of a First Grade Language Class":

Teacher asks class, in Spanish, "What day is it today?" (translated for the monolingual)
Girl walks up to teacher, "My dad's in the hospital."
Teacher, "Your dad's in the hospital? What happened?"
Girl replies, "His arm hurts so they're going to take out his tonsils and a piece of his tongue."
Teacher, in shocked tone, "Oh me, oh my!"

***Hours later***

Girl's dad, "Hi Profesor Suave. How's trix?"

Teacher, "Hi Girl's Dad. Say, hear tell your arm hurts, so they're trimming some meat off you?!"

Girl's Dad, "Some HMO, no?"

Me pagan por eso,

Prof. Suave