After a few months on the road, our hero looks back, sees stars.
Well, we´ve been a while across the border. The books I took:
-The Sounds of Poetry, by Robert Pinsky (Man, this was a pretty nice choice.)
-The Elements of Style, by Strunk and White (everybody made fun of me for this one, but it has by far been the most-read. I mean, what was I thinking with King Lear?
-King Lear, by Shakespeare (Seriously. See above. When you´re night busing it through southern mexico, this is the last book you want to be reading. Hell, night anythinging it through southern anywhere. With Albany: Glouster´s eyes?)
-A Collection of poems written between 1850 and 1950 (Check.)
-The Tempest (A much better choice.)
-The New Testament (Double-check.)
All in all, I did pretty well. Let´s keep in mind here that when I went to Spain, I took like twenty something books, sent them all home for seventy dollars, and only ended reading the first half of The Idiot and a lot of trashy romance novels the whole time I was there. So nice work, son.
We went through Mexico in only a week, instead of our planned month. This was mainly because when we got to Ciudad Victoria, and it was raining, and really nobody spoke english and it was obvious that the last person to be white and wearing a big backpack there was a had been beyond the time of remembering, we thought: ¨holy balls, let´s get out of here.¨ This exclamation really carried us to Guanajuato, which we made after many consecutive hours of bus travel. We slept on a bus our first night in Mexico. I arrived in Guanajuato blitzed by language change and lack of sleep, after having spent most of my bus time reading King Lear and working on the verb ¨ir.¨ It was actually a pretty great couple of days. From Ciudad Victoria, we got to San Luis Potosi at one AM. We saw that there was a bus leaving at four, thought: let´s get a little farther from Ciudad Victoria. We split our time in San Luis between the all-night cafe, the bus station, and the thirty foot stature of a national hero who had been canonized by freeway loops and was entirely illuminated by their streetlights. We fabricated a century or so of mexican history around the sainted general, and then split to Guanajuato.
A brief gallery of non-mexican Heroes:
Patrick ¨the big one¨ Frazier: The instigator of this trip, sometime runner, Jui-Jitsu expert, Chess Champion. Biceps like a slugger, but with the heart of a fan. This new-age grecian appreciates the poetry of Shel Silverstein, the glorious contortions of the dancing-floor, and large portions at reasonable prices. Ah, Patroclus!
Josh ¨Spinoza¨ Renfro: Josh holds the St. John´s single-season record for extra-curricular study groups attended (Undergraduate Division, Southwest Region, L.A.S.). Josh´s finely textured eyes are too beautiful to be enjoyed by the public except through a small glass window over each. He is pleasured by Matt Damon, embarrassing honesty, and a good bottle of cream soda.
And yours truly, who is yours, truly, anytime you´d like a private biography.
-The Sounds of Poetry, by Robert Pinsky (Man, this was a pretty nice choice.)
-The Elements of Style, by Strunk and White (everybody made fun of me for this one, but it has by far been the most-read. I mean, what was I thinking with King Lear?
-King Lear, by Shakespeare (Seriously. See above. When you´re night busing it through southern mexico, this is the last book you want to be reading. Hell, night anythinging it through southern anywhere. With Albany: Glouster´s eyes?)
-A Collection of poems written between 1850 and 1950 (Check.)
-The Tempest (A much better choice.)
-The New Testament (Double-check.)
All in all, I did pretty well. Let´s keep in mind here that when I went to Spain, I took like twenty something books, sent them all home for seventy dollars, and only ended reading the first half of The Idiot and a lot of trashy romance novels the whole time I was there. So nice work, son.
We went through Mexico in only a week, instead of our planned month. This was mainly because when we got to Ciudad Victoria, and it was raining, and really nobody spoke english and it was obvious that the last person to be white and wearing a big backpack there was a had been beyond the time of remembering, we thought: ¨holy balls, let´s get out of here.¨ This exclamation really carried us to Guanajuato, which we made after many consecutive hours of bus travel. We slept on a bus our first night in Mexico. I arrived in Guanajuato blitzed by language change and lack of sleep, after having spent most of my bus time reading King Lear and working on the verb ¨ir.¨ It was actually a pretty great couple of days. From Ciudad Victoria, we got to San Luis Potosi at one AM. We saw that there was a bus leaving at four, thought: let´s get a little farther from Ciudad Victoria. We split our time in San Luis between the all-night cafe, the bus station, and the thirty foot stature of a national hero who had been canonized by freeway loops and was entirely illuminated by their streetlights. We fabricated a century or so of mexican history around the sainted general, and then split to Guanajuato.
A brief gallery of non-mexican Heroes:
Patrick ¨the big one¨ Frazier: The instigator of this trip, sometime runner, Jui-Jitsu expert, Chess Champion. Biceps like a slugger, but with the heart of a fan. This new-age grecian appreciates the poetry of Shel Silverstein, the glorious contortions of the dancing-floor, and large portions at reasonable prices. Ah, Patroclus!
Josh ¨Spinoza¨ Renfro: Josh holds the St. John´s single-season record for extra-curricular study groups attended (Undergraduate Division, Southwest Region, L.A.S.). Josh´s finely textured eyes are too beautiful to be enjoyed by the public except through a small glass window over each. He is pleasured by Matt Damon, embarrassing honesty, and a good bottle of cream soda.
And yours truly, who is yours, truly, anytime you´d like a private biography.