Friends

I wish I had more time to write. These past weeks have been so loaded with work. Like I told you guys the other day I'm working on this high profile case that is taking up so much of my time. Today I will go to church then try to spend most of the day with my family. I've been thinking a lot lately about friends! I don't have many. The few I have say that I'm a good friend. But...lets apply some logic to the situation...If I'm such a good friend, why don't I have more friends? I see people with tons of friends and wonder how..How do they have time to talk or spend time with so many people? I barely get to see my family with all the work I have.
I know a lot of people and i think some view me as their friend. But you and I know what a real friend means.There is a reason (I think) for my small (very small) number of friends. I went to 14 different schools when I was a kid. Some moves where due to my family moving from city or country. Other moves were due to behavior problems and other moves were due to my mom suspecting I was gonna have behavior problems and decided to move me before I embarrassed her again.
The thing is I learned to let go of friends quite easily. There were a few times in which I attended 2 different schools during the same year. I would arrive, meet people, like people, but never put much effort into keeping in touch or anything. That is why I have only 3 childhood friends. I kinda keep in contact with one, I consider him my best friend because I care about him more than any other friend I've ever had.
Remember when you first got a facebook account and began searching for old friends and classmates. Remember the feeling you got when you find people you didn't remember existed and all of a sudden you contact them to be friends again. I go through that a lot. Because I went to so many schools, every time I find a classmate from one of those schools I search their friends list and find people I went to class with for a little while. All of a sudden I remember all their names and even some stories. I went to 2 schools during my 6th grade year. I found a picture of my class at the second school I went to that year. I had never seen that picture. When I saw it last night I remembered that day as if it had happened recently. I remember that I forgot that day was picture day, thus, I didn't ask my dad for money to pay for the picture...result...never got a copy, thus never saw the picture. I found the picture doing a search like the ones I just talked about. I'm sure that the person I took the picture from has no Idea who I am. But thanks anyway. I remember almost all the names and had a great time looking at it.
Here it is, I kinda ruined the picture.. Yeah, I know I look adorable, hugable and lovable but I wasn't looking straight when the picture was taken.

What a week....

Before this past work week began I knew It wouldn’t be easy. I had many cases and a few of them were very emotional,complicated and full of difficult issues and people.
My week began with amazing experiences. Early on in the week, I was able to participate in a case that was so important to me. I worked on this case with another lawyer and we spent so much time preparing for it. We won the case and I was so proud of our work. A great reminder of why I became an attorney. A family was reunited, I was so anxious...The judge gave us his decision at around 9PM. When I got home, my daughters were still awake and I was able to celebrate by kissing them and tucking them in bed. As soon as everyone went to bed that night, I began to review notes since I was starting a murder trial the next day. It’s incredible how you have to switch mindsets, concentration and priorities in a matter of minutes. The murder trial began and it had its ups and downs. No one really wins in these type of cases you know.
By Wednesday I was exhausted. I arrived late again, had a nice dinner and sat down to watch the news. Not a good Idea!! Had trouble sleeping....
Thursday wasn’t supposed to be a tough day. I only had 2 cases in court and was thinking about taking the afternoon off...maybe a nap or something else that would be relaxing.
I woke up with a huge headache on Thursday morning. I slept very little and was really stressed out. I looked at my phone and had a bunch of missed calls from numbers I didn’t recognized. I returned the calls...
I wish I could tell you more...I can’t though...All I can say is that I have just been hired to work on the case I saw on the news the night before....It’s all over the place....
I spent Friday afternoon with my family. I can’t begin to explain how tired and stressed out I was but a few hours with my girls was all I needed....
Amongst all the negative press and comments I’ve been getting a friend sent me a message just told me to pray trust that God has placed me where I’m needed.(thank you V) I thought about it...And I truly believe it....

Long lost friend/client

Today in court I saw a lot of people who came back from summer vacation. Some I like, many I don’t. That’s just how things are around here. To be honest I interact with a lot of people I don’t like. This has taught me patience, tolerance and how to be a a hypocrite from time to time. This I hate, but there’s no way around it. If I tell everyone how I feel about them the following could happen. a. No one will care since the don’t like me either, b. I will have more enemies than your typical defense attorney, c. Things will be more tense than they usually are around the courthouse. So I try to be as nice as I can without feeling stupid. Mainly for my clients sake.
I do like some people... just not many. My secretaries are great and so is my business partner. There are a few lawyers I like. Mostly those that are cordial and don’t take it personal when we go against each other. I usually have great relationships with my clients and with other officers of the court. So my days are not bad.
One great thing about my job is that I get to meet important people. Iv’e been starstruck a few times by celebrities that have hired me to represent them. I get over it after a while but it’s really cool. Not that I have represented many but when I do I try to focus on their case and their problem before I began to ask them about their lives as celebrities.
The other day an athlete that I admired as a teenager came into my office and needed some legal help. I can’t give you the name or the issue but it’s an interesting situation, if you care to know. I love sports and still collect baseball and basketball memorabilia. I have some of this athlete turned client. I can’t wait till the case is over so I can ask for an autograph. If I do it now he might think I’m an idiot.

There’s a little story I wanted to share with you. You might not think much of this but I find it amazing.
Since Facebook and Myspace to over the cyber world I have been able to get in contact with most of my old classmates and childhood friends...well...not really friends, just people I knew. I have found just about everyone I have cared to search for. There is one dude I haven’t been able to contact and the other night I was thinking about him. He was a kid from elementary school. I remember him because his mom would visit us during lunch everyday and bring us snacks and hang with us during our break. This was during grades 1,2,3 but I’ve always thought that her presence at school kept me from getting beat up by the older kids. I was a short kid with a big mouth and really smart (emphasis on was). This got me in trouble sometimes since I usually spoke my mind. But although I remember not being liked by some big tough 5th and 6th graders. They never got to me because my friend’s mom was always around.
So the other night my daughter woke me up at about 3 am and while I was rocking her back to sleep I was thinking about this long lost friend. After putting my baby to sleep, I went to bed and had a weird dream. I dreamt I had found my friend at a party, the thing is that in my dream he looked like a former client. It was a client I represented about 3 years ago and I wasn’t sure of his name.
When I got to my office I searched my secretary’s computer for the file and I couldn’t believe what I was reading. It was him, my lost friend had been my client and I never put the pieces together. I can’t name him for obvious reasons but It was so weird. He was someone I had searched for and googled a few times. I really wanted to see him and see what he had done with his life. He had been in my office many times, we went to court together 6 or 7 times and I never thought he was my friend.
I have called him a few times to tell him but he hasn’t returned my calls. My secretary says he won’t call back because he still owes me some money from the services I provided. I did win his case...

Almost Famous

I was in the seventh grade when I almost became famous...for all the wrong reasons that is. My seventh grade teacher asked us to build something scientific (whatever the hell this means). 90% of my classmates made volcanoes out of clay or something that looked like clay. I remember someone also making a device that was like a remote control with a small light bulb at the end. It had something to do with the Morse Code. Big deal right!
I wanted to do something different and I knew who could help me. My next door neighbor’s dad was in the military and taught him how to built a lot of crazy stuff. Let’s call my neighbor Billy to protect his identity. He was a year older than me. A tall kinda dorky kid. He was smart, or at least he sounded smart most of the time. I thought he was cool because he never let his mom inside his room and she stayed out. I could never have pulled that off.
Billy’s dad had taught him how to make a bomb! That thing was loud,very loud, like a cherry bomb, way louder than a fire cracker. He put a few ingredients in a small cylinder. Like the kind they use at the pharmacy to dispense medications. It had gun powder and other stuff I can’t remember. Anyways...I had seen Billy explode a few and I remember being amazed by it. Ben.... ooops, there goes anonimity.. used a toy rocket launcher to make the thing explode.
So guess what my science project was....I swear I asked the teacher before I decided to bring it to class. For some reason he thought it was safe and said that I could blow up the thing in class.(he didn’t actually say blow up)
The day the project was due I woke up earlier than usual.I Knocked on Ben’s door and went up to his room. He had my project ready and explained to me step by step what I was supposed to do in order to make it work. I remember him saying “please don’t tell anyone who made this”...”Ok” I said, I never did...until now, almost 20 years later. He gave me an index card for my oral presentation. On it he wrote the ingredients and explained the procedure for making it and for exploding it.
Only 2 of my classmates knew about it. They really didn’t understand what I was up to so they didn’t ask much.
The day the project was do I was first on the list to present. Thanks to my last name staring with a B, this was common.
The teacher told the students in the nicest and most CLUELESS voice ever that Rafael had made a “pretend bomb”. He gathered everyone around a large table. I placed my bomb in the center of the table. The classroom was full so there had to be from 20 to 25 students. I introduced myself “Good Morning, my name is Rafael and for my project I made a bomb”...a few students laughed while some of the cool kids were wondering what the hell was this weird puerto rican kid talking about.
As soon as I began to read the ingredients the teacher said. “Are you serious Rafael?...let me see that card”. It took him about a minute before he started yelling at me...”are you trying to kill us?...are you crazy?...everybody stand up and go to the back of the room”. He was sweating and visibly angry. I remember thinking he was gonna hit me. I know he wanted to. He stared at me for about 3 minutes and said..”Do you have problems?” I said “No, I don’t think so”, i was so mad at him for not letting me finish my presentation.
He took me outside of the classroom and told me to get rid of the bomb and that I would get an F on my project. Can you believe this? The dude thought I had brought something really dangerous to class and...just gave it back to me? The bell rang and I packed my bomb back in my bag and headed to French class. I wasn’t sent to the principals office and no one called my parents to tell them what I had done. No one, not even my classmates mentioned the bomb to me during the rest of the day.
When I got home I went to Ben’s house and told him what went on at school. He said “hey... too bad you got an F...do you wanna blow it up now? This is the part that makes me pray and thank the Lord everyday...
That thing was the loudest, messiest, smelliest bomb Ben had ever made. We blew the thing up on top of a piece of wood and I was scared to death when I saw the piece of wood burned black. I mean it looked like it had been burned in someone’s fireplace. There was so much smoke after that thing exploded that I could only think about what COULD HAVE BEEN if I had continued my presentation.

If this had happened today, with the internet and social media sites I would have been all over the news. I would have been called a terrorist or something and CNN would have come to my school and made a big deal about it. Maybe even an interview with Larry King. I said maybe.

Piano Man

Let me begin by thanking those of you who have been sending emails with comments about what you read here. Your emails make my day and I appreciate all your encouragement. I invite you to write your comments about specific posts here on my blog so other readers can react as well.
ON LEGAL STUFF....
Some of you have asked me to talk about my work, my cases and to provide legal info. I wish I could. Trust me, If I told some of my clients' stories I would win major literary prizes. I can't though. Rules of professional conduct (ethics codes) prevent me from doing so.
I might provide a comment regarding a legal issue that I think could be important to talk about but if you want legal advice or my representation call my offices. My secretaries are kinda nice. Set up an appointment, (my assistant might offer you coffee) and we can discuss your legal problems. I will give a piece of random legal advice today...DON'T LIE TO YOUR LAWYERS!!!. It's stupid. Think about it, you are hiring me because you think I can win your case. Do you really think lying to me is gonna help? Do you think making me look stupid when surprises pop up is gonna keep you out of prison?...

I had a good day today. As usual, I woke up with anxiety from all the work that I knew I had. At 7:30 I already had 17 text messages, (11 from the same client) and 9 missed calls. Those are my morning highlights! Some clients just have the need to tell me that they have arrived at the courthouse TWO HOURS EARLY.
After handling my cases in court I had a meeting in San Juan. I was tired but couldn't cancel again so the 1hour 20 min drive was mandatory. The meeting took way too long so afterwards I rewarded myself with a little shopping. I rarely buy anything for myself since my daughters were born.

On my way home I pulled out an old cd. It's a mix I made of a bunch of old songs. On it is Billy Joel's Pianno Man.
The Lyrics

It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man sitting next to me
Makin' love to his tonic and gin

He says, "Son, can you play me a memory
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes."

la la la, di da da
La la, di di da da dum

Chorus:
Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us all feelin' all right

Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke and he'll light up your smoke
But there's some place that he'd rather be
He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me."
As his smile ran away from his face
"Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place"

Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife
And he's talkin' with Davy, who's still in the Navy
And probably will be for life

And the waitress is practicing politics
As the businessman slowly gets stoned
Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinkin' alone

Chorus
sing us a song you're the piano man
sing us a song tonight
well we're all in the mood for a melody
and you got us all feeling alright

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
And the manager gives me a smile
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see
To forget about their life for a while
And the piano, it sounds like a carnivore
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, "Man, what are you doin' here?"

Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

Chorus:
sing us a song you're the piano man
sing us a song tonight
well we're all in the mood for a melody
and you got us all feeling alright

I love this song. It's full of dreaming, wanting and remembering. Everyone in the song prefers to be somewhere else. I feel this way sometimes. The thing is that most of the things we have are things we once really wanted so we shouldn't dwell on the past or possible future. I wish I could play the Piano and make people happy. I make people happy sometimes with my work but it usually means that I won a case and made the looser unhappy.

I'm Sorry...really?

It's Friday and I woke up feeling good today. Honestly, I had a rough night. My twin girls went to sleep too early so they decided that 3am was playtime. For some reason I woke up with a lot of energy, and decide to think about setting a new goal in my life. I might tell you all about it soon. I might... Last night I remembered a little story of something that happened to me when I was a kid. I learned a lesson the hard way and began to think about consequences.

Through my best friend Aaron I met this kid called Vinny. The craziest guy I had ever met at that point in my life (now I think he's nothing compared to some of the characters I have met lately) But we were in the seventh grade and in Junior High and Vinny was THE MAN. He was a short but tough Italian kid that was willing to do anything to satisfy his need to feel like a rebel. There was a movie that was popular at that time called Cry Baby where Johnny Depp played a rebel. Not a very good movie although a lot of making out, but every time I come across it on cable I remember Vinny. I wanna tell you two stories about Vinny.
I once punched him for...nothing. Vinny was loud and although I kinda feared him, I knew I could take him!!. One day he and I were just talking, about...whatever...I looked at him for about two seconds and thought about how neat it would be to just be brave enough to punch him under his left eye. SO PAU!!! Vinny almost fell to the floor and was noticeably rattled. When he realized what I had done he said . "Are you fkn crazy???" "I'm gonna kill you dude". I walked away and went to class. Either I hit him so hard he forgot or he felt sorry for me and didn't wanna "kill me", but we were still friends the next day...

Second Story about Vinny:
It was a Thursday and Health class was about to end when Vinny dared me to ask the health teacher, a weird looking man late into his forties, about homosexual sex. I raised my hand and when the teacher cared to notice me I asked "how do gay people have sex?". "Do you really care to know?" he said "well you said we could ask you about anything" I said with my adorable smile.. "Well through the buttocks Mr. Borrás" said the teacher, he was turning red. "Does it hurt?" I continued, while Vinny and my other classmates started laughing... Vinny and I were sent to the principals office. We loved going there. Sometimes Aaron, Vinny and I all got sent together, those were some of the best days of my school life.
On our way to the principals office I decided to pull a harmless prank. Vinny and I went into the cafeteria and hid a lot of their utensils. Vinny and I stole the knives and forks, just for fun...yeah I was that stupid. Our backpacks were full. It was funny at lunch time to see everyone going crazy looking for the stuff we hid away.
Next morning I was in geography class when over the intercom I heard Mr. McDonald say "RAFAEL BORRAS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPALS OFFICE, RAFAEL BORRAS" Yesssss" , I said...I didn't want to take geography. I thought I was getting called for not reporting to the office when the health teacher kicked me out the day before.
When I got to the office the secretary (U.S. marshall like..) escorted me to Mr. McDonald's office. As soon as I walked in I saw Vinny with his eyes red, probably from crying...yeah, the tough guy. The principal said..."Mr. Borras who were you planning on hurting? Who were you gonna stab?"..."What are you talking about...Sir?" I honestly didn't have a clue..."Well, you stole a bunch of knives yesterday... tell me, (he yelled)...I'm so getting sick of you". I was so confused, I didn't know what Vinny had told him. There was also a cop sitting next to Vinny.
Vinny is in a lot of trouble said the principal (he got into a fight the day before and apparently used one of the knives) and so are you. I began to sweat and almost cry. "Anything you wanna say , asked the cop" Ahhh, ehhhh, nnnnnooooo, not really...." Say something, said the principal..... "uhhh, I'm sorry?" "REALLY?", said the principal. I'm sorry won't get you out of this one Rafael....
I only got 10 days of detention, ten afternoons writing on legal size papers I WILL NOT STEAL CAFETERIA UTENSILS.

I was kind of a prankster but I remember thinking alot that day about my behavior, It was the first time in my life that saying I'm Sorry didn't fix my problems....I also can't believe Vinny told the principal it was mi idea. I decided to do the rest of my pranks with Aaron, he knew how to keep his mouth shut...

This weekend if anyone asks you..Have you read any good books lately? Let me help you out with answering...
Option # 1 No, but there's a very neat blog from a guy in Puerto Rico who thinks he can write.
Option #2 Yes, but there's a very neat blog from a guy in Puerto Rico who thinks he can write.
Option #3 I don't read much, but there's a very neat blog from a guy in Puerto Rico who thinks he can write..

Invite some friends over.....

MY WAY

Believe it or not this is not the first time I create a blog. I've had a few, some were horrible and others were ok. I love writing but I have a huge problem when doing so. Don't know if I should write my posts in English or Spanish. Two major reasons: first, sometimes I feel like writing in Spanish while other times the ideas or stories I want to share are better explained in English. The second reason is that I want all my readers to be able to enjoy (how's that for self confidence) my posts. I don't have hundreds of readers but the fortunate few are split into Spanish or English speakers. Anyways, while I deal with this life threatening situation this one goes in English.

Songs (a first of many on songs)

My Way... Frank Sinatra

First the Lyrics
And now, the end is near,
And so I face the final curtain.
My friends, I'll say it clear;
I'll state my case of which I'm certain.

I've lived a life that's full -
I've travelled each and every highway.
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Regrets? I've had a few,
But then again, too few to mention.
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption.

I planned each charted course -
Each careful step along the byway,
And more, much more than this,
I did it my way.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew,
When I bit off more than I could chew,
But through it all, when there was doubt,
I ate it up and spit it out.
I faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way.

I've loved, I've laughed and cried,
I've had my fill - my share of losing.
But now, as tears subside,
I find it all so amusing.

To think I did all that,
And may I say, not in a shy way -
Oh no. Oh no, not me.
I did it my way.

For what is a man? What has he got?
If not himself - Then he has naught.
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels.
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way.

Yes, it was my way.

It's a great song. The Ideal Macho, tough guy anthem. But as i get older I don't know if its my favorite anymore. It would be great to do everything My Way. But, if I did that I would probably hurt, disrespect and offend other people. I love singing it at the karaokes but honestly, who does anything their way? We go through life trying to say the right things, obeying laws, religion, codes of ethics and society's unwritten rules. The song is utopic, but if we want to keep friends, family and clients around its kind of tough to do everything OUR WAY. Just think of all the things you have done or changed to please or to avoid hurting someone.
By no means do I want to say the song is totally wrong. I just think it's hard to live a long life with this attitude.
Also, this is one of a very few group of songs that its translation to Spanish is Awesome. To be honest the Spanish version is deeper in meaning and many artists such as Richie Ray and Bobby Cruz have made amazing arrangements to it.

I read that Sinatra hated performing the song but it was such a huge hit that he couldn't avoid singing it night in and night out.

In case you haven't read it

Enjoy my friends


INVICTUS

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

By William Ernest Henley

El mejor de todos los tiempos...jamas se sabrá...

En la NBA hay que ganar campeonatos o tus logros individuales no significan nada. La grandeza de los jugadores se mide por campeonatos y no por su ejecutoria diaria, lo que simbolizan para su franquicia o fanaticada o por los momentos de alegría que nos brindan en cada partido de la temporada.

Hay varias razones para esto, sin embargo, y a base de lo analizado durante mi vida como fanático, un factor determinante es el factor tiempo. Las carreras de la mayoría de los jugadores en la NBA son carreras cortas, en comparación con atletas profesionales que se destacan en otros deportes. En la NBA ya eres un viejo a los 32 años mientras que en Baseball, Soccer y en el Football americano todavía puedes ser considerado como un jugador que está llegando a o que está en su "PRIME".

En los últimos años hemos presenciado como muchos jugadores de la NBA han optado por ganar menos dinero, por tener menos reconocimiento y por tener un rol menos significativo en sus equipos, buscando ganar un campeonato. Si nos detenemos a pensar esta situación tenemos que comenzar siendo realistas en cuando a que hay 30 equipos y sólo uno puede ganar. Si escuchas a cada jugador considerado estrella o superestrella, no te sorprendas si casa uno de ellos te dice que quiere estar en un equipo capaz de ganar un campeonato.

LeBron James no es mi jugador favorito pero siempre he reconocido su grandeza como atleta. Soy de los que piensa que tiene las herramientas físicas e intelectuales para llegar a ser el mejor de todos los tiempos. Mejor que Jordan, Mejor que Shaq, mejor que Kobe...el mejor jugador en pasar por la NBA. Lamentablemente para mi y otros fanáticos de la liga, nunca lo sabremos. LeBron acaba de firmar un contrato de seis años con los Heat de Miami. Sin embargo lo hace luego de que Wade y Bosh decidieran formar un super equipo para intentar ganar campeonatos.

Recientemente Jordan manifestó que jamas haría algo así. Nunca llamaría a Larry Bird o a Magic Johnson para que se unieran a El. Jordan quería competir con los mejores y ganarle a los mejores. Aunque los jugadores que menciono jugaban con equipos buenos, eran Jordan, Bird y Magic quienes tenían la responsabilidad de cargar el equipo, de tomar los tiros difíciles y de motivar a los demás.

Charles Barkley dijo algo muy correcto. "LeBron podrá ganar todos los campeonatos que quiera, pero jamás sera mejor que Jordan" dijo ademas que al firmar con Miami, LeBron automáticamente queda fuera de la discusión. Parece injusto pero será imposible saber ya que LeBron nunca tendrá la responsabilidad que tuvo Michael Jordan.

En resumen pienso que tampoco esta super union en Miami les garantiza un campeonato. Creo que pueden ganar el éste, pero si Boston se mantiene saludable (y eso es mucho decir porque estan viejitos) Boston les puede dar muchos problemas. Tienen un cuadro regurlar acoplado y se fortalecieron con la firma de Jermaine O'Neal.
Sin embargo aún ganando el éste no le ganan a los Lakers.

Que opinan??

Antojos

No me crie entre riquezas o exagerada abundancia. Sin embargo recuerdo que siempre mis padres hacían lo posible por suplir todas mis necesidades y sí... mis antojos. Trate de no ser un hijo caprichoso pero la realidad es que siempre hay cosas que uno desea tener y ahora que soy adulto entiendo los sacrificios que mis padres tuvieron que hacer para complacerme.
Cuántos tenis Jordan y polos Lacoste pudieron quitarle el sueño a mi papa...
Ahora que soy padre me doy cuenta que no hay nada que se compare con la sonrisa de un hijo. Los ojos brillantes de mis hijas al recibir una de mis sorpresas son causantes de emociones inexplicables. El saber que uno es el culpable de esa alegría motiva a uno a hacer lo que sea por multiplicar esos momentos. Ahora es fácil, mis hijas se emocionan con cualquier cosa, hasta con la mera presencia de su padre, pero ya me tocaran los antojos mas complicados.

Lo quiero como una madre!

Me encontraba hace poco en California atendiendo una situación de salud de mi padre. Aproveché la estadía para visitar a mi mejor amigo que se encuentra en una prisión, Avenal State Prison. Decidí visitarlo porque mi amigo esta sólo en ese estado y no recibe visitas. Ademas, estaba muy deseoso de verlo toda vez que es como un hermano para mi y quiero mostrarle mi apoyo cada vez que puedo.
Ir a California desde Puerto Rico es ya una aventura que te ocupa un día entero, pero nada me preparó para este viaje a Avenal. Empezemos con un pequeño dato: Avenal queda a tres horas de distancia de Los Angeles. Segundo: No hay transportación pública de Los Angeles a Avenal. Tercero: dejé mi licencia de conducir en Puerto Rico, por lo tanto este morón que te escribe no podía alquilar un auto.
Luego de evaluar mis alternativas decidí utilizar un Autobus hasta el Pueblo de Coalinga y de Coalinga tomaría un taxi por 25 minutos a la ciudad desierta de Avenal.
Compre los boletos de Greyhound el sábado en la tarde por internet. La Guagua saldría para Coalinga a las 12:45 de la madrugada. Me fui sin contarle a nadie de mi familia para no preocuparlos. Iba para un lugar desconocido, vestido como turista y con un bulto con pertenencias valiosas como mi laptop y dinero en efectivo.
Comienza la Aventura
Alrededor de las 11pm me dirijo hacia el front desk del hotel donde me estaba hospedando. Le solicite al Indú que me atendió que me llamara un taxi. Me pregunto mi destino y le dije que iba para la estación de autobuses Greyhound en downtown Los Angeles. "No en serio para donde vas?" me dijo el incrédulo. Le dije que neceistaba llegar al la estación de autobuses de Greyhound. "Estas loco" me dijo en su acento marcado. "No es un lugar seguro, dejame llamar a alguien para ver que esta pasando por allí". En esos momentos recbí una llamada de una amiga desde Puerto Rico y le conte lo que me proponia hacer. "A la verdad que eres un moron" me dijo sin pena alguna. "Yo me monte en una guagua de esas y fue la peor experiencia de mi vida", "Te vas a arrepentir", "No vayas". Le dije que agradecia su preocupación pero que iba de todos modos.

El indú me dijo que su amigo le dijo que a esta hora era muy peligroso pero que tan pronto me bajara del taxi corriera hacia la estación y que no debería tener problemas. Me preocupé un poco pero no me quité, no soy cobarde.(depende)
Cuando llegó el taxista le dije para donde iba y me dijo, "estas seguro?". Le dije "que diablos pasa, voy simplemente a tomar un autobus". Entonces me cuenta el taxista que la última vez que fue por esa avenida por poco lo tirotean porque el pasajero estaba vestido de rojo y pensaron que representaba a alguna ganga de Los Angeles. Me dijo también que le hubiera gustado que el indú del hotel le hubiese dicho para donde íbamos para el traer su arma. Aquí les aseguro que me cagué y le dije que me hablara claro que yo tengo dos hijas y no las quería dejar sin papá. (suena cobarde pero no me importa tres pepinos).
El me dijo que el me llevaría hasta la puerta de la estación y que me recomendaba que caminara sin mirar a nadie . En esos momentos le envié un mensaje de texto a mi amiga porque sabía que si la llamaba me insultaria con toda razón. Me contestó el mensaje y versa de la siguiente manera "Imbécil, moron, te dije que no fueras, dile al cabrón taxista que vire y coja para Beverly Hills" . No le conteste y seguí mi aventura.
Cuando nos acercabamos a la estación me di cuenta de la razón de la preocupación del taxista, del Indú y de mi amiga. Las calles que antecedían la estación parecian sacadas de un documental de CNN sobre gangas, drogas o prositutas. Ví sobre 200 casetas en las aceras donde personas que habían perdido sus residencias durante la presente crisis económica logran sobrevivir.
El taxista no me dejó tan cerca de la puerta. Le pagué los $42 dólares y me fui salí corriendo del taxi hacia la entrada de la estació pensando que luego de entrar a la estación estaría seguro...EQUIVOCADO. En primero lugar los 26 pasos que caminé a velocidad moderada desde el taxi a la entrada de la estación parecieron eternos. Se me acercaron personas a pedirme dinero y una "dama de la vida alegre" me ofreció sexo oral por $30.
Luego de entrar a la estación respire hondo y me detuve a observar el panorama. Sólo dire esto:LA COLEECION DE SERES HUMANOS FEOS MAS GRANDE QUE HE VISTO EN MI VIDA. Me sentí mas asustado adentro de la estación que afuera.
Luego de encontrar mi autobús le entregue el boleto a el chofer que me dio la impresión de que se sentiá que era Dios. ¡Que tipo arrogante!
Fui de los primeros en abordar el autobus. Mi meta era dormir durante el viaje, sin embargo la gente que poco a poco se montaba era muy rara, sus olores eran una mezcla de orín y vómito y cargaba con muchos paquetes como si todos se estuvieran mudando.
En el asiento que ubicaba al frente del mió se sentó Jeni, una colombiana que aunque cumplía con el requisito de fea, se veía normal y no tenía tantos paquetes.
Salimos hacia nuestro destino y luego de casi media hora de camino Jeni se gira y desea platicar. No se si era su mal aliento o mis pocos deseos de hablar con ella pero de inmediato maldije la hora en que se sentó frente a mi. Luego de hablar con ella por 15 o 20 minutos me pregunto si se podia sentar al lado mio porque le dolia el cuello de girarse tanto a hablar conmigo.
¡¡¡Maldita sea la hora!!! Jeni se cambió de asieno y me dijo. "Estas guapísimo pero ni te imagines que vas a hacer algo conmigo" Por poco la mando a fukuoka cuando me dijo eso pero me dejo sin palabras. "No me gustan los hombres, ustedes no sirven en la cama". Le dije a Jeni que no se preocupara porque a mi no me interesan las colombianas que conozco en una Greyhound y que parecen participantes de Laura en America y que visten como prostitutas. No se porque se molesto conmigo. Se paro y se fue. Sin embargo cada 15 minutos se giraba a mirarme mal. Ya saben, no dormi nada pensando en que esa loca me robaria mis pertenencias.
Ocurrieron otras cosas en mi aventura que estoy escribiendo en mi libro. Pero les quiero contar algo mas.
Luego del tedioso proceso de encontrar la carcel y del ansioso y alegre momento de encontrar a mi amigo, nos sentamos y le conte mi aventura. El llamó a un prisionero que era su amigo y le contó mi experiencia para llegar allá. El amigo me dijo, wow tu debes querer a este hombre como un hermano para venir desde tan lejos y pasar lo que pasaste para llegar aquí. Yo le dije,"Para nada tonto, pase un susto horrible, estoy amanecido, he gastado mucho dinero y por poco me viola una lesbiana en un autobus". Esto yo jamas lo haria por un hermano, esto solo se hace por la madre de uno....a este tipo lo quiero como una madre.

Back to work...

It is amazing how something may seem so important and in a minute mean nothing. Yesterday I was in court handling a very complicated case. At noon the court recessed and we were told to come back at 2pm for closing arguments. I remember how worried I was about the case as I was entering the elevator on my way out of the court house.
I have lunch at my house about 3 or 4 times a week. it gives me a chance to see my wife and twin daughters in the middle of my work day. I rushed to my house to grab a bite, kiss my girls and lock myself up in my home office to review my notes for my closing arguments.
As soon as I got home I learned that one of my girls was sick, she looked so weak and sad. My wife told me that she was about to take her to the pediatrician. I looked at my baby girl and there was no way I was going to leave her. That is my life right there and nothing else seemed to matter.
I also thought that it wouldn't be fair to my client to have his freedom on the line while his attorney was worried about his daughters health. I took a deep breath, got rid of my tie and jumped in the car. I called the judge and explained my situation and got a continuance for this Thursday.
My girl is doing better. i actually just got a call from my wife and my baby told me she loved me. Now I can work. I'm off to court...