Columns

If you’re anything like me, you’re feeling guilty about speaking Spanglish in such a way that it sounds like it might be deep-state code for a coup.

Cosmetic surgery is often viewed as our interminable battle against aging. What seems to be different today in many places is that it’s acceptable to talk publicly about all those age-removing techniques.

Lately, I have found myself slumped over my laptop longing for the good old days when a handful of friends could get together and kibitz at someone’s home or a local bistro just to fill up a lazy afternoon and empty a few tumblers.

Without any warnings, I find out a record number of  people in Mexico believed they’re possessed and are seeking exorcisms. This is worrying, because all I have in my bodega is some raccoon repellent. And it never worked.

As everyone who has been to lakeside’s north shore knows, the Carretera is the only artery to thread through all the many small villages that surround the lake, and, as a result, is often choked with traffic, traffic signal breakdowns, cement trucks driven by former stunt drivers, and, recently, roadside excavations almost as deep as the potholes.

Remember when you stared curiously at a tag on your pillow or mattress that forbade you to remove it, or, in my case, dared me? To me as a teen-ager, it seemed just an innocent pillow.