I love my hood. I have decided that if my business fails I am going to ask the family always hanging out on the porch in the affordable housing behind me to adopt me. They are some of the happiest people I have ever seen. There is always, without fail, regardless of the time of day, at least 3-10 people out there hanging out. Always smiling, always playin. That is, until today. I went by on my daily morning walk to the Comal Food Store (super dirty, smells like pee), as I do every day for a fresh diet coke. They were hanging out, but there was some official looking dude walking over to them. He had a magnetic name tag that he seemed to wear with pride, but I couldn’t make out who he was affiliated with. All I know is when I came by again on my afternoon run, the porch was empty. Sad. Hopefully this is just a brief hiatus, because I am pretty sure they would take me in after the Window AC Unit Incident.

Smells like pee, but you get used to it after awhile

Side Bar: The Window AC Unit Incident

I was casually walking by the porch family. It was a happy day because there was like 15 of them hanging outside. Probably four generations of men and women. Kids were playin in the lawn, gramps was on his rocker. Then, all of a sudden, a window AC unit comes flying down from the top story. We all froze, cuz that thing surely would have smashed the little girl on her big wheel if she had been in the landing zone. After about 4 seconds of silence, a lady leaned out the window that the AC had previously been perched in and she said “Shhhiiiiiiaaaaat.” The whole lot of us looked at each other, then keeled over with gut bursting laughter. I have to say, when you get 15 black people together in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, its bound to pretty much make anyone’s day. It was a moment of bonding for me and my friends on Comal street.

Where is Everybody?

I was letting the bad day get the best of me when I am pretty sure my grandmother intervened from the heavens. When mom and sis and I were guzzling tequila down in The Mexico, we were discussing what tattoo we would get to commemorate my grandmother that passed last year. We have shamrocks for my Dad’s Irish mom, so we started thinking we should do something Polish for my Mom’s mom. But the only thing we knew in Polish is “How are you?” and we had no clue how to spell it. Well, problem solved. I saw this bumper sticker today, and it took me awhile to understand it because I had never actually seen the phrase, only heard it. When it became clear… I tailed this old woman for 2 miles trying to get a picture. We wound up in a Walgreens parking lot.

Jak Se Mas?

Pretty sure that is not what we will get tattooed, but at least we know how to spell it now if we are ever in a bind.