Now that we are about to celebrate the bicentennial in Mexico and many of those who tend to drop, now say we should not celebrate. Why hold if the country is in total chaos? That better not to celebrate or cry demos, now shut up in a sign of indignation. All these
spoilers I ask you: If you (God forbid), had terminal cancer and were about to die ... to celebrate a birthday? Of course you do! Carax So why should we not celebrate the birthday hundred of this country? By this I mean that the country has a terminal illness, but accept that we are in intensive care. Nothing could be more unnatural for us Mexiclan, to stop holding any party with that party animal spirit that we are charged. That left them with bitterness to think about it.
virginal in this inhospitable and blog, now talk of another bicentennial.
This is not called so because they celebrate two hundred years, but held two centuries, hence the name. On second thought, in total if two hundred years.
In 2010, also marks the birth of my two grandfathers, both my mother's father: Pancho Pistolas. As the father of my dad, Grandpa Mcrow.
These two figures that marked my life in very different ways and in some cases very similar, the hundredth anniversary of arriving in this world, but long ago are no longer in it are as present today as they were in life.
Pancho Pistolas
My grandfather was the average Veracruz, cheerful and talkative. Bohemian dentist by profession and a hobby.
was a man who enjoyed the food in all its forms, which were never deprived.
I remember getting up at six o'clock to drink your coffee, make breakfast, bathing, grooming and be ready for anything. It came from a time even to go to market put a coat and tie, always wearing his hat and always up to go anywhere outside. As
Revolution was born in the middle, I guess that's why he always had gun. My mom tells me that was loaded on bureau when she was a child, but with the grandchildren and we at least tamed and kept it. But yeah, at the slightest provocation ... fired. Something very dangerous because the truth is that Panchito was not very good aim.
When I recall in my memory, always remember chewing. I have never meant anything, but I suspect that my grandfather was a ruminant. Maybe you had an ancestor who was a rabbit or squirrel. As he ate Panchito!
When he was nearly eighty years, as any teenager could have dinner and go to sleep as calm as if he should anyone. Some will sleep velábamos to see what time it was the last breath, but never could the food versus grandfather.
was a man who laughed at the slightest provocation and would not stop until her stomach hurt. They tell me you had a more sour mood. I am not aware, I can only speak for what we saw and threw me into laughter remembering only that I can not help smiling.
I remember the Saturday nights we used to see the box, which was a show with Panchito, for throwing jabs and uppercuts at the slightest provocation, of course peppered with shouts of: Oh that fool you! against the fighter of your choice. Since then I saw the box. It is a sport that I like him yet enjoyed with his grandfather. I suppose they are of those moments that if one could afford to be back there, the amount would be.
For years, Panchito was the pillar that kept the family together around him. Every birthday we gathered everyone to celebrate with great fanfare. This under the slogan: Do not go to be the last. The fact is that fifteen years celebrated at Panchito very comfortable in the inevitable event of August 6.
do I do this reflection of Pancho Pistolas, I realize that safe unexpectedly planted in me the seed of love for writing.
enjoyed telling their stories, which had one for every occasion. This is what I liked him. I think I was the only family that never tired of hearing them over and over again. Also had a way of telling that would stagger any novelist.
I think from the primary, when my grandfather had to develop a case study on Argentina, he discovered his talent for this unexplained office. All life was proud of his monograph, same as he was about to go to give it away when he died. Had it not been for the heroic hands of this writer, who escaped the clutches of my mother and bioloca, who shamelessly, would dispose of Argentina Monograph my grandfather saved his life. Now I am the custodian of such a great cover work that carries the flag of that country, painted with colored pencils Panchito's own as a child that ran around Orizaba.
However, I am also custodian of the manuscript of some of their stories, were published and even won a prize. Come to think, grandfather and I are the only write of this family. Although the work of the smallest in terms of volume, much richer in awards so far.
Could I keep writing about the life and work of Pancho Pistolas, on his sayings and his songs have now become part of the jargon of the family. On his anecdotes and his friends about his profession as a dentist, which thank God I never saw "benefited" because they say Panchito His hand was heavy for it to extract teeth. Could I talk about his legendary scrambled eggs with beans. But the truth is that many posts would need to give you an idea dear reader, this man who marked my life and today, more than a decade of his departure, even strange.
His life, his passage through this world and all he left us, so ... we must celebrate this centenary.
