This is what cameraphones and adolescent sisters are for.

From: 208(emily)@vzwpix.com
Date: Sat, Mar 7, 2009 at 7:08 PM

skills.

How to Charm Media Types

Praise them with pith:

First Name: Carlos
City: Los Angeles
State: California
Country: USA

Comments: I LIKE THE TICO TIMES VERY MUCH

---------
Referred By:
Search Engine: I AM SUBSCRIBE TO THE TICO TIMES
Print Edition: Yes

Yo tampoco.

Hi Holly,
Te paso este mensaje porque no entiendo de qué se trata.

[department assistant]

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, March 04, 2009 8:19 PM
To: info@ticotimes.net
Subject: Customer Comments

First Name: mike
Email Address: lobsta@domain
State: Maine
Country: usa


Comments: """"""we want you back"

Dug sez

Dug, you sure you don't want to get in on one of those drug tests, too? Or at least one that tests your ability to construct prose in coherent English before submitting letters to the editor. Laugh out loud.

----- Original Message -----

From: Doug

Subject: China town

The Chineez probably heard about the crime and wanted to build with an exact amount of material instead of 3 times as much due to theft...........then you have the Semana´Santa adventure coming up. Arias ought to cut a deal. Drug test the Ticos and hire ALL Ticos and if caught stealing give them 5 years GUARANTEED behind bars. They probably couldnt find enough under 50 years old and willing to take the tests and sign the agreement to fill the openings LOL.

Subject: Earthquake

Amazing.

From: Raul
Sent: Tuesday, March 03, 2009 11:47 AM

Gentlemen: I am a subscriber to your newspaper. I am the owner through Costa Rica-formed corporations of two small parcels of land above the La Paz Waterfall Gardens and off the highway to Cinchona. According to a map in your paper, my land was at the epicenter of the earthquake. Is there anyone at your paper that I could call to discuss what is happening, is the main road open, etc. Thanks. Raul

As Precious As a Fisherman Gets

... i’m sorry about my grammer and vocabulary. I’m just a retired fisherman, but i had to say somethng. this place is to cool to me to not make a comment. i doubt if if this gets printed, i suck at writting. but, by chance, could you make it look like i don’t write so badly. the spirit is there, but that’s always not enough i guess. ps. keep up up the good work you all.!

We got you covered, dude. And nice job in using "badly" where 93% of people would have used "bad."

Blood

Chronology is not one of my strong suits, as I've said before. But the great thing is, it's also not always necessary.

(Read: Holly just got around to imovie/vimeo and this is the most recent footage of anything she has. They're also some cute videos. But don't expect me to go FinalCutPro on you any time soon.)

Christmas is one of the best times to be part of the extended family. There's not actually a bad time, but Christmas Day is when the awesomeness is most heavily concentrated. The routine has not changed since I was 4 and there were 15 of us. Now, the whole clan is at 32 and will be at 33 (at least) by December. The morning of, everyone gets to Gammy & Granddad's and stays corralled in the kitchen while the big people eat scones, chat, and try to keep track of the new little people who weren't around last time we were here and are now running around asking how soon until we can run into the den.

And this is a literal "run." We have taken pictures every year, probably since before I was around, of the moment when we open the door to the kitchen and let the little guys sprint from the kitchen, through the dining room, to the big, open garden room, where the presents (whose number expands geometrically with all the new gift-giving combinations the new spouses and babies each year provide) sprawl on the platform under the mammoth two-story tall Christmas tree. Of course, usually the kids have been prowling the gifts for the last few weeks each time they've come to Gammy & Granddad's and know with GPS-specificity where each of their gifts is located, so the running is to see if anybody got one of the big, day-of gifts, like the bicycle and other things like that that would otherwise require an obscene amount of giftwrap. I don't remember the first year I was holding the kids back and not one of the ones being held back because both roles are equally enjoyable.

We then proceed to the den, where we open presents one-by-one, youngest to oldest. These rules are never broken. It takes a few hours, and nobody ever gets bored, although everyone is quick to make sure you don't dally, because they have to wait for you to give your thank-you hug to your giver and then make sure they have the attention of their giver before they can tear into the gift. Inevitably, whoever is around the age of 6 or 7 (just old enough to be able to read the names, young enough to still be enthralled by the hunt) will be the go-to Present Finder for the group, too. This year, it was Andrew, who kept coming back to me, "Cousin Holly*, do you have a gift to open?" "No, bud, I'm out." "OK, stay there. I'll find one for you."

(*"Cousin" to differentiate me from Grandma Holly
and their (hopefully) future Chinese sister, Holly.)

While the footage might be older, the shots of the ever-expanding dinner and side tables (and Gammy surveying it all) might be some of the last ones since this year was the first year ever we did not all eat together but split into two different groups. On the one hand, this was a sad end of an era, but on the other, it meant I FINALLY GOT TO MOVE UP TO A GROWNUPS TABLE. True, we only had one table at our house, but it still was better to at least engage in conversation with my brothers, sister, parents, aunt, uncle, and grandparents, instead of watching the former, along with their other pairs of male cousins, hurl jibes at each other. Not that that isn't entertaining. Josh also remarked how, the next day when we got together for dinner out in Colbert, we all had a perfectly pleasant evening together and no one was having a drink, which would have been more than permissible, and I think there has been a bottle of wine from year to year, but it's just not habit. Besides this, the only other really critical detail about family dinner not captured in a photo here is the massive amounts of ice cream.

Later in the video, Andrew and I also did a 10 K cross-country ski race in February together. And I was not selective with the pictures I put in this: The kid really smiled THE ENTIRE TIME, and the closest he ever got to a complaint in 90 minutes on the course was, "Wow, this course is long." He is the happiest kid I have ever known. He also was a mailbox for Halloween that year.

Last year, he, his three siblings, and I spent a lot of time together and did the following: held a scavenger hunt in the dollar store (with two friends), explored down by the creek in the snow, played soccer, read stories (in many, many versions, loud v. soft, fast v. slow, e.g.), played multiple rounds of "abandoned babies," did school lessons, cooked dinner together, etc. Betsy discovered one of the best questions to ask Cousin Holly is, "Where are these earrings from?" and, anytime I'm wearing large discs, she asks if those are the ones I found hanging on the bush. She took some of the pictures in the later series in the bathroom and of me and Andrew when we were playing outside. She was giving him directions, too, in the vein of, "OK, now be really crazy like a monkey." And while the three of us were doing this, Adam was probably off exploring, and Katie was curled up inside reading for hours on end, i.e. exactly what I was doing when I was her age.

Then, the five of us also performed the marathon photobooth session required of all new owners of any Apple laptop:

(And yes, the song is in that terrible limbo between novel and nostalgic, but the thought of queuing all these frames to some other tune is not one I can entertain.)

And last, here's a tribute to Betsy, my Pacific Northwest version of Capucine:

In the first clip, I'm pretty sure she sings about someone who is "dead because she died [from falling off the table]" at the end, and I am trying to get her to say "girl," which she pronounces "gyearl," at the end of the second clip. She and I had some good times last year. In truth, all her siblings were equally filmable in their time, but she happened to be at that precise age when I had a camera to catch it.

One of my favorite Betsy moments last year, not captured on film, she and I were snuggling when she burrowed her nose into my shoulder. She, who has just discovered superlatives, pulled her head up, looked at me, and said with a big grin, "You smell the prettiest." "Oh ... that's really sweet, Betsy, thanks. [Pause] So what do I smell like?" "Hmmm ... donuts."

I'll take that.

Things I Don't Get

• so-called viral videos
• trip-hop
• lolcats
  
• most micro and macroeconomics
• "pwned"
  
• wii
  

Obvious Rule #358: Do not mention bathing in professional communications.

#227: Do not to use five ellipses in a span of 28 words.
#4: TAKE IT OFF CAPS LOCK.

From: Ted

To: Holly

Sent: Wednesday, February 25, 2009 1:15 PM

Subject: HELLO HOLLY

WOW.. I CAN NOT BELIEVE YOU GOT BACK TO ME SO FAST... THANKS... NOW I PUT OFF MY SWIM IN THE MOUNTAIN STREAM... I WILL CUT IT BACK...TED


From: Holly
To: Ted
Date: Wednesday, February 25, 2009, 2:06 PM

Our word limit for letters to the editor is 500 words. If you could trim this letter down to that limit, we'd be happy to consider it.

Best,

Holly

From: Ted
To: Holly

Sent: Wednesday, February 25, 2009 1:11 PM

HOPE ALL IS WELL WITH YOU TODAY. I SENT THIS AS LETTER TO EDITOR. PATRICK'S GREAT REPORTING GOT ME ALL CHARGED UP... TED

Chewin' nails

while listening to a couple new songs my mom sent me (she saves the cards from starbucks and emails me the codes to redeem the free songs), the phone rings.

me: hello?
dad: hey, it's your dad.
me, thinking this is unexpected since he called yesterday: oh hey, what's up?
dad: well i saw your facebook status* and thought i should call.
me: but it was in french.
dad: yeah, i had to google it to find out what it meant.
me, laughing: wow, i'm just realizing that my dad googled my facebook status in french and is calling me at my house in costa rica.
dad: hey, i'm your dad. ... you wanna talk to your sister?
me: sure.
em: hey holl.
me: hey babe. i hear you're quite the public speaker these days.
em: yeah, [speaking at church about their youth group's 30-hour fast] was pretty cool.
me: you know, the sunday where one of the guys spoke about the fast is one of the handful of services i remember from last year. ...
em: well, i don't know who spoke last year, but my speech was way better. i was 3 for 3 making the associate pastor cry.
...
dad: you know, 'when banks compete you win.'
me: i like how you just tried to pull off a bank's tag line as some maxim.
dad: no, it's not a bank's tag line, it's the lending tree's motto. if banks are competing for your business, you get a better deal. it make sense in theory. ... hey, don't laugh at your father.
...
dad: well, anytime you put up despairing messages in french, just know your dad's here.
me: it does sound more desperate in french, doesn't it?
dad: you know, it does.

i have a wonderful family. in particular, they listen very very well. they are the best part of who i am. and if there were ever a special edition six-person family double dare where all the questions were in the form of movie quotes, we would beat the other team by at least $425 and then win all the prizes from the encyclopedia set to the trip to the nasa family space camp with 12 seconds on the clock. easy.

*Holly en a marre. 22 minutes ago

Blindsided by the seizure of a water bottle.

I believe you are the black eye, o petty, dehydrated one:

First Name: Jimmy
State: Alabama

Comments: My wife and I visited your beautiful country in mid-January. We thoroughly enjoyed the visit. Upon our departure, we were blindsided by the security procedures in the airport. In the USA, we are allowed to purchase bottled water in the airport after the security checkpoint entering the concourse. Upon our departure from the San José airport, we were searched again just before entering the aircraft and all water bottles as well as other liquids were taken away. Your airport is selling plenty of bottles of water only to have them taken away at the plane entrance. This put a black eye on your country's security methods especially when we were not previously warned of this. This seems like a small issue but it is the final memory we have of Costa Rica.

Subject: US socialization

From: Raymond
Sent: Friday, February 20, 2009 12:09 PM
To: Info

The United States uses nasal implant controlled socialization (NICS) as part of it’s national profiled indoctrination by bugging infants with puppeting bugs when they are born and still in the nursery with the program run by US intelligence as a domestic values program.

You're concerned. That's sweet.

Unlike their Latino counterparts who have no inner monologue, gringo men rarely say anything out loud to you on the street, although they do stare overtly enough. So I was surprised when I passed a middle-aged whitey with his bespectacled eyes fixed on me as I scurried to the Jacó bus station this weekend and saw him open his mouth to say something.

"Wow," he said, as I braced myself. "I hope you have sunscreen."

A superlative post script, there.

"St. Maria's School for the Grumpy Deaf"? Cute.

A superlative example sentence at the end, there.

Palabra del día:

mamarrachada f fam
1 (comportamiento) bad behaviour
2 (dicho absurdo) stupid story: déjate de mamarrachadas y ponte a estudiar, stop being so stupid and get down to your studies
3 (cosa mal hecha) botch up: esa obra de teatro era una mamarrachada, they really botched up that theatre play

mamarracho mf buffoon, clown: no sé cómo pudiste enamorarte de semejante mamarracho, how could you fall in love with such an idiot?

The hippopotamus was allergic to magic.

Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo.

Francis, we told you to lighten up.

From a review for a voice recorder:

Do you work with people who will tell you one thing, then "conveniently" forget what they said when questioned by the Boss? Me too. Does your Boss never answer your emails in writing, but always calls or speaks to you personally to answer your emails? Mine too. You NEED this digital voice recorder!

"When I saw the horse's head coming toward the windshield ..."

"... I thought I was sleeping and that I was having a nightmare. How could have I imagined that a horse was going to fall into the car?"

A runaway horse was plummeting down the street at about 1 a.m. when it tried to jump over William Lerroy's taxi ... and didn't make it, but went through the windshield and was killed.

Lerroy was badly cut and shook up, but was able to leave the hospital after 24 hours.

But his car – and livelihood, for that matter – was totaled. Lerroy had only bought the car in November, after making the career switch from salesperson to what you could call freelance taxi driver.

The clincher: "Although authorities located the horse's owner, he denied that the animal involved in the accident belonged to him. The animal had no markings.

... Even though the penal code sentences 'owners or handlers of domestic animals or other animals that, either for abandonment or negligence, cause damage to others' property' of 5 to 15 days in prison, the article was annulled February 28, 2008."

(The picture is a snapped a shot of mine of the evening news.)

This is why editors become curt jerks.

Because if you give contributors even the slightest leeway you didn't even know you were giving, they end up retching worthless responses and waxing poetic about your eyes:

--- On Mon, 2/2/09, Holly wrote:

Hi Ted,

Quick question re your Perspective submission. What is your latest novel about? Thanks in advance.

Best,

Holly

--- On Mon, 2/2/09, Ted wrote:

Thank you Holly for your little sunshine on a Monday morning:

What is it about? hummm... I like to say its about getting up when lifes drive you to the ground; to make big changes in the face of doubt, don't give up on those dreams. I suppose Henry Miller summed it up for me when he wrote: "Writing is about life; and life is 880 hourse power in a two cylindar engine." Stories can capture some of this, with all the love, tears, confucsions etc, to bring home the greatest reality of life: it all happened before and it will happen again. Like the water rushing down our rivers here, it will be back.

Let me send you he cover to the book, whose back cover gives some information. (plus the covers of two other of my books soon to come out... just for your information, not to load you up) .... I live the life of a writer more than I want to.

The novel is based on a story I wrote to be published under one cover; but forces around me, with more common sense than I, convinced me to bring them out as a trilogy. After considerable re-work, it is as I once dreamed. Some writers never get to see their work as they intended as you know. A piece I wrote in 2004, if I had time today I would slash and burn pieces of it, you can scan and perhaps get for some feeling for what my storytelling is about.

I am also uploading the introduction to my poetry book; throw it away or it may be of some help.

the last page of my "Gesar Tale" sign off the acknowlegement, and reads: "San Jose, Costa Rica, September, 2008." It was published a little over a month ago. It has been send to reviewers but nothing as of yet.

give my best to (the editor). His character and his humanity glow in those eyes, a real good guy.

thanks,,, ted

1 Ulysses = 260,000 words

I like this one better: No sweet slides, but all the same enthusiasm, some of the same analogies, and less performance.



Erin McKean speaking to Google in 2006, "Verbatim."