I know no better.... reasons why people don't find love

On a clear cool star filled night, I walk away from home. A moon lit road led me to your door. Without a knock I enter your home. There is a wild river flowing in that home. Swept farther away by icy black waters, foaming, turning, faster, faster, faster… you stand there and laugh at my confusion.
Where did you go to? I stand alone, cold, wet, homeless. On a dark moonless night, I look for my own home. Tears slowly form in my eyes, no sobs, no whimpers. A strange landscape before me. Soft warm breeze from nowhere, the sweet smell of mint, now a raindrop falls. More drops, it becomes a torrent, a silent torrent of rain. A small soft body of a woman forms. She approaches; dressed in white satin, with long brown hair, clear brown eyes, soothing silky fingers. Reaching for may hand, so gentle, so much care and compassion. Her honesty flows through her eyes. Her heart beats as love flows through her. With no words she invites me to go with her, paradise is her home.

I pull back my hand… I forget about my home. Slowly I turn and walk away. I will search for you and your home until death sends me somewhere else. I know no better. Sometimes bad habits are stronger that love.

Uncle Arlo and Isabelle

Carlos was fourteen or fifteen when Isabelle was born. He wasn't too comfortable holding a baby and avoided holding Isabelle. Maiko was living next door to us and finances were tough on him. Carlos moved in with him and we helped with the rent. Isabelle spent the first three years spending time with Carlos every time she was with Maiko. When she started to talk, her first word was "Arlo". That was her name for her uncle Carlos. She loved wrestling with her uncle. She also loved arguing with him and they would compete over Elfida's attention. When Carlos left for boot camp she really missed him. When we told Isabelle that we were going to go see Carlos become a Marine, she found a small US flag that had been in Carlos' room and said she was taking it to wave at Carlos so he could see her.
She grew up in a house full of Marine Corps paraphernalia. Her dad had graduated from boot camp in 1997 and served four years in the Marines. It was a long drive from Waco, Tx. to San Diego, Ca. Isabelle had a great trip. Not only was she going to see her uncle Arlo but her great grandma was also going.
We had bought her a portable DVD player for the long trip and I beleived she saw the "Emperor's Groove" four or five times during the trip.
Isabelle enjoyed bugging her uncle every chance she got. Carlos spent his time paying her back for it. She knew he had broken his foot during the Crusible and would ask us how he was doing and when he could come home. She had to wait to hug her Uncle when we first saw him at the Marine Depot. Grandma got to hug Carlos first. Isabelle wanted to follow her uncle everywhere. These series of pictures were taken as Carlos walked around and Isabelle followed.
Now that her Uncle is in Iraq, she writes his notes everytime we send him a package. It is just letters strung together, but it her way of telling him how much she loves him and misses him. He has been out of country for over a year now. Isabelle was telling my wife the other day that when Carlos came home she was not going to fight with him any more.When Carlos was in Florida going through his training, he sent her a full set of Marine cammies. She wears them to the Central Texas Marine Family support group meetings. Gunny Sunday, one of the Marine recruiters in Waco when Carlos signed up, gave her some chevrons which she wears with her cammies.
I mentioned that Carlos broke his leg while at boot camp, it happened in December of 04. We were in Eagle Pass when we got a call at night from Carlos. He was telling us that he had broken his foot and wouldn't graduate with his platoon. He was very upset. He had grown attached to his group and had been doing great. He was hoping to graduate as the top recruit and now it had all changed. He was depressed and we were worried. Gunny Sunday was our granite pillar. He checked on Carlos on a weekly basis and made sure we were kept informed of his morale and his healing. As young as Isabelle was, she was aware of this and Gunny Sunday and his wife became her favorite friends. Isabelle now five years old, found out that Carlos was in Iraq and told Elfida that she didn't like him being there because that was were they killed Marines... I don't know where she heard this but I know that this war is now even on the minds of babies.

My wife, my only love

I saw my wife for the first time out of the second story window of Miners Hall at UTEP. She had just arrived in El Paso from Pecos. That was almost 30 years ago, she was wearing a white blouse, blue jeans, no makeup. I didn't meet her for another four or five months although I would see her at the dorms. She was beautiful. The first time I had a real conversation with her was in January of 1978. She was sick with a cold, I went with her to the grocery store and bought her some oranges. We dated while at UTEP and when the summer came I left for Eagle Pass and she for Barstow. She called a few time and we wrote to each other. I left for L.A. looking for summer work so I could continue paying my way through college. A few months later on my way back home I took a detour to Barstow, Texas, and picked up Elfida. We were married later that year. She is the only girl I ever told I loved. She is still the only woman I love.
When I was away from her, I could close my eyes at night and see her beautiful brown eyes. What use to puzzle me before I knew her was that she almost never smiled. When I was going out with her that was one of the questions I had to ask her. She said she had never noticed that she didn't smile. She has a beautiful smile and a soft sweat voice. She always looked younger that she was. Even after she had our two sons, people still mistook her for a teenager. She has aged very slowly.
My favorite time is spent sitting at home with her. She reads and I surf the Internet on my computer. Ever so often I reach over and hold her hand. I love knowing that she is there next to me. When our boys were little we use to all sit on one recliner and watch TV. After they grew up they would still come into our room in the morning and clime into bed with us. Sometimes we sit in bed and look at the pictures of our kids and us through the years. I have most of our pictures loaded on my laptop. Its been many many years that we have been together. She smiles a lot. I think having our sons gave her a big reason to smile more often. Late at night, when she sleeps and I sit watching TV or typing on my computer, I stop and listen to her breathing, look at her and notice how little she has changed in so many years. I reach over and touch her hand; she squeezes my hand without waking up.
During the day, while I sleep she is at work. I can roll over to her pillow and smell her essence on that pillow. I awake and miss not having her next to me. I close my eyes and see her beautiful brown eyes, her smile....
I don't know what being hurt is. I have never know a broken heart. I married the only girl I ever loved.... about 30 years ago.

Kids growing up

Last year we went to a friend's wedding in San Antonio, Texas. She use to babysit our boys. Mary use to spend weekends at our house. She was the daughter my wife always wanted. When I started coaching soccer, she played on the first team I coached. We did pretty bad the first year, but she was a very good player. She went on to play high school soccer in a mixed coed team which played against all boys teams.
Her wedding (to Patricio) was in a very big church. Very beautiful church where we weren't allowed to take pictures from the sanctuary. I was allowed to climb up to the balcony and take pictures from there. This is my favorite photo from the church ceremony. I like the way the whole wedding party is included, the red carpet and the happy expressions on the bride and groom.
They had hired a photographer to take pictures, so I worked around him. I like taking photos from the angles most people won't normally see. That means putting the camera on the ground or holding it over my head or shooting through an opening in the flower arrangements. I also prefer not using a flash. That was a problem in this church since there was very little natural light coming in. Most churches have stained glass that allows enough sunlight to shine onto the alter but this one had blue stained glass which allowed very little light through. She was a beautiful bride.
When we still lived in San Antonio Mary was willing to help me with my photographic experimentation. This picture I took using my old Pentex 35 mm camera. I used two flashes to get the transparent hand effect. My wife loved having her over. My wife always wanted a daughter but we ended up with two boys. I was extremely happy to have boys, so Mary was very special to my wife.
Mary had two brothers and two sisters. Her mom could tell a story about her kids and make it hilarious. There were stories about when Marie's hair caught on fire, when the truck hit Gloria with the side view mirror, when David rode his big wheel off the family car's roof, about the time John cut his tongue, and about the hundreds of jokes they played on Christina. Their father was an EMS technician so he did most of the stitching of cuts, bandaging of scrapes, and assorted first aid. We would go visit and my wife would laugh so much at the stories they would tell that she would get an asthma attack every time we went there. Ok, some of it was from Wilma's smoking. Wilma was like a sister to my wife. They worked at the same place for about five years. When Mary got married, I think my wife was as excited as Wilma was. At the wedding I did what I have always like doing, take pictures. It was a beautiful wedding and a great reception. The rehearsal dinner, which we were also invited to, since we are family (almost) was most excellent. One of this days I will put all the pictures of Mary on a disc and send it to her. I will include the 100+ I took at her wedding. She was a beautiful little girl, she is a beautiful woman and my wife and Wilma are lucky to have her as a daughter. The years went by so fast....

Oh yeah, she use to dress up our youngest son in her Cabbage Patch Doll's clothing. Apparently it had no lasting impact on him since he is in the Marine Corps now.

My Father, me and my son

My son, Maiko, and I spent the whole afternoon building another kennel for the dogs. My shoulders, arms, legs and back hurt. Even my fingers ache. It was a wonderful afternoon. I know that after a few hours of working, my son was hoping I would say it was time to quit and that we would finish it tomorrow. We worked until the sun was just below the horizon. We picked up the tools in the dark. I think we found all of them. It was one of the best afternoons I have enjoyed in a long time. Time spent with my son, working.
I stayed behind to finish picking up some boards, and fence posts. My son carried the tools to the garage. I could tell he had worked more that he had expected. We should have stopped working an hour or so earlier, but I couldn't leave the work for tomorrow. I smiled as I remember working with my dad and wondering when he would stop working. I remember wishing he would stop and tell me that we would finish the work the next day. It just didn't happen. I remember pouring concrete with the light from a lamp on an electric cord because we had to finish work that day. We use to live next door to my parents when we both worked for Vickrey and Assoc., I remember we would get home after 06:30 PM. This was after having gone to work at 06:30 AM, I would walk into my house, get a beer and go sit outside to rest. My dad would eat dinner and then come outside and begin working on the house, the yard, the truck, or something else. I would have to go over and ask if he needed help. We would work until the sun went down.

I am now like my dad. I just can't quit once I start a project. But.... my son is starting to sound like me, like my dad too. We were outside watching his two daughters playing on their swing set. He was talking to his oldest daughter, telling her to be careful with her sister. He used the same words I had used on him more that twenty years ago, when I would tell him to be careful with his brother. I couldn't help telling him, "You sound just like your Dad!" My wife cracked up laughing.

It was a great afternoon and hopefully many years from now it will bring a smile to my son when he remembers the day we worked until sundown building a kennel.

I still miss my Dad, especially on the days when my sons do something good. I know he would love to be there to tell them how proud he is of his grandkids.

America's Highways

I am one of those who does not like driving. I don't mind being the passanger. I can take picture while riding. Ok, I can take pictures while driving but it isn't very safe. We traveled west to the Pacific Ocean and within 200 miles of the Atlantic Ocean, then we traveled South to the Mexican boarder and then North to Colorado.
That trip took us through Texas and New Mexico. These are the pictures take from the front passanger seat of my Ford F-150. My bother, Roje, did the driving while I took picture.
I even took a picture of the road through the rear view mirror to show where we had been. It was a lot of fun. We listened to 70's music on my Creative Labs MP3 player.
WE drove through some cloudy roads, rainy roads, sunny roads and again through rainy days.

We saw many trailer trucks, small cars, big cars and in Texas we saw many pick-ups.

We also hit some construction sites with their bright orange signs. The slow traffic allowed for some better picture taking.

Along the way we drove through some small towns with the Co-op building being the biggest and tallest structure in the whole town. Most of the small town looked as desolate as this one.

On some of the construction sites we came to a complete stop. We were able to get out of the truck and eat lunch. I even walked away and took pictures of the insects, plants and animals in the area.

Some of the weather was pretty frightening. Like when we were almost out of Colorado and we out ran this front. It was carrying some very strong winds, hail and lots of rain.

It may have even been carrying some tornados too. We were lucky that it was traveling a few mile slower than we were.

I felt sorry for the truckers and others traveling in the opposite direction. The y drove right into the storm.In the distance you can see the sunshine. We made it there just as we drove into Texas. We out ran most of the rain and hail, but the wind caught up with us just south of Amarillo. The dust was so thick that visability decrease to about 15 feet. That dust storm was the scarries part of the trip. What a welcome home we got from Texas!!!

Places and People

I walked down to the area where the vendors were located from a sidewalk high above the flea market. Items for sale were scattered among the different tents, tables and blankets. Buyers, sellers and on-lookers mingled, talked and examined used items. Items which were no longer useful to one person were just what the other one was looking for. It was a nice cool day, overcast, a typical winter day in a Eagle Pass. I have visited many flea markets, each one with its on magical interaction of people. So many different people... old, young, poor, not so poor,...everyone there for a reason. Maybe to buy something they can't afford new, something unusual, something small, a collectible, or the ever affordable imported electronic gadget.

There is always something to look at, something to remember, something to take with you. A bargain, a memory or a photograph.

I walked away with this photo that day. I will print and frame it one day. It will hang on a wall with my other favorite photos.

Old man, old man, how have the years come to pass? What have your eyes seen? Which bridges have you crossed? What plans did you make? Which decades do you remember best? What do you carry in your heart?

We never spoke. He was an impressive figure. Standing straight. His head held high, displaying his wears for all prospective customers to inspect. A man still working at providing for himself, his family. Undefeated by the never ending struggle to exist, survive, to be autonomous.

I want to have those same qualities when I reach the eve of my life time. I want to stand tall, head high, eyes focused on tomorrow but aware of today and proud of the past.

He walked away, searching for a better spot, for more people, for a willing buyer. Somewhere there would be someone looking for what he was selling. Flea markets, a miniature model of our economic system and an example of our social dependence on each other.