Prodigal Son

This is a picture of me from December of 1969. I was about 1 year and 9 mos. I am amazed that even back then and even in Guatemala parents enjoyed the novelty of taking their child to a place where they could dress them up in outlandish attire and snap pictures to preserve these preciously contrived moments. My mom describes the costume as "indigines" which I believe means indigenous and refers to the population in Guatemala that is less hispanic and more representative of the people living outside the urban areas. I would like to think that they are what is left of Mayan culture but I am sure that I am wrong.


In all honesty, it is a cute picture and I think I looked like Spanky from the original Little Rascals.


This is my first blog entry in many months. I guess I use my blog energy on Facebook now, hence, no need for this space to be used. Though I enjoy Facebook, I realize it is a lazy gesture. One in which my thoughts do not need to be thoroughly articulated. A status update on Facebook is just a declarative statement with no color to it. I returned here today for fear that I am becoming one willing to blurt out orations without the ability to dive into them, take them apart and prove each component. Unfortuneately, I see myself well enough to realize I know better. I remember a class analysis on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein in which the monster was compared to an abandoned child; this analysis was taken further as to suggest the monster represented a piece of work the author no longer wanted anything to do with. The argument was something like: (Victor) Frankenstein had put his body and soul into creating life but when the creation was ugly and inconvenient he ran away from it. Well, Blogs can be inconvenient cause they demand mental agility, adherence to language and a belief that your thoughts are worthy of note. I will admit that time, enery and conviction are not always there. But even if the entry is far from its target, it was a successful exersise, if just that.