Argentina Doesn't Need To Cry For Anybody

I love my family more than anything. They are the most important aspect of my life. The reason I live, the reason I work, the reason I try to stay healthy. It wasn't my plan to choose a career that keeps me away from home a great deal of the time, it just happened to work out that way. To be honest, there never was a plan, but that has worked out quite well for me. I had a knack of being in the right place at the right time, when the right people were present. People always say to me, "Well, you're just lucky." And you know what? They are absolutely right. 

As I write this, I'm on an airplane 32,000 feet over Bolivia, traveling back to Atlanta from Buenos Aires, Argentina. It was a quick trip, only four days and three nights, but then again, most of my trips are short. I always miss my family no matter what the destination, but when it's a place very far away, I miss them even more than normal. When you have a family, and you travel almost every week, is there such a thing as normal? From the outside looking in, the answer would be no, but my family doesn't know my life to be any other way. Daddy leaves town for work. That's just the way it is, and for them, that's normal. Being home for more than two weeks in a row is a chaotic disruption of schedules, but that's another story.

The Buenos Aires trip came together in a day. Had a chance to do a small amount of work, get a place to stay, and a low mileage first class award travel airline ticket. Upon spousal approval, the trip was a go.

The flight down lasted about 11 hours or so, and after the meal and proper medication, it was off to dreamland until about 45 minutes prior to landing. Actually, there was no dreaming, but the occasional sound of a familiar song on my ipod, piping through my headphones, was the only distraction that kept me from enjoying the view from the back of my eyelids.

I was traveling with a co-worker of mine, Bob Cramer, who also happens to be a good friend, and he'd been to Argentina many times in the past, so I knew I'd be shown all the good places to see. Argentina had been in the news a great deal back home, due to the incredible saga of the Governor of South Carolina, who couldn't tell the difference between a hike on the Appalachian Trail, and a torrid, steamy affair with a beautiful woman from Buenos Aires. The only other things I knew about Argentina were that they started a short lived war with the British over the Falkland Islands, which they lost, a crappy Madonna musical called "Evita", had gauchos who roamed the pampas, a relatively good looking female president, gave safe haven to old, exiled German Nazis, and inspired the Fogo de Chao restaurant chain. It would be accurate to assume that my knowledge of Argentina was limited at best.

Upon our early arrival, we were greeted by spectacular springtime weather, but soon found out that our hotel room wouldn't be available for at least six hours. The hotel staff was kind enough to let us keep our bags in the office, and off we went to see new and wonderful sights. Well, new to me anyway.

The first place I was taken to was a cemetery, which reminded me of the cemeteries in New Orleans, but bigger and more elaborate. Above ground crypts with glass doors where you could clearly see the caskets inside. Some had seven or eight caskets inside, and many had tiny little infant caskets, and I couldn't help but wonder what happened to those poor little ones. I walked past row after row of family tombs, and then came across a crowd of people taking pictures of a rather plain looking iron and glass door, with the name "Familia Duarte" at the top. Some people were placing flowers and notes on the door, and a couple of women were weeping. Turned out it was Eva Peron's tomb, perhaps the most famous person who ever came from Argentina. Sadly, she was only 33 when she died of cancer, but maybe worse, she was the woman who inspired that horrible Madonna musical. I jumped right in the middle of the snapshot frenzy, then decided that I'd had enough of dead people.

Right next to the cemetery, a huge flea market was in full swing, selling all types of handmade Argentine leather goods, paintings, jewelry and various other trinkets. Interesting to look at, but no purchases were made. The next stop was Florida Street, which was the huge shopping district of Buenos Aires. I went into a clothing shop, and saw a very nice leather jacket, tried it on, and was tempted to buy it. The nice sales lady was telling me how great I looked in it, and how well it matched my skin color, and I came very close to making the purchase, but then she told me her name was Mabel. For some reason, the name Mabel is very odd to me, and spooks me a bit. I just couldn't go through with the deal. If her name was Bertha, or even Aunt Jemima, I would've bought it immediately. But Mabel? No way.

Finally, at 3pm, the room was ready. Definitely nap time, then venture out to find a good place for dinner. I learned that the custom in Argentina was to eat dinner very late, even as late as midnight, but I was starving by 9pm, so out we went. We passed many establishments that looked good, but settled on a place called the Montana Ranch, where we could eat outside, watch the people passing by, and enjoy a good steak. The people passing by was the best part. The steak was ok, a bit tough, but two bottles of fine red wine always seems to make everything better. A walk after dinner, a couple visits to some local establishments for a few cocktails, and that was the end of the first night. Stumbled around a bit, but made it home safely and hit the rack immediately, unaware of the adventure that awaited me the next day.

A short time in the morning was spent doing business, then my partner Bob suggested that I go to an antique market. He assured me it was an interesting place to go, and it was only a 12 peso taxi ride to get there. He'd been there before, was feeling a bit tired, so I hit the street solo. I walked for at least 20 blocks, taking in all the sights and sounds, and it was a glorious day. I finally hailed a cab and told him to take me to the mercado central. That wasn't what I was supposed to tell him, and when I noticed we were heading out of town, and the meter was at 60 pesos, I knew I messed up.

I was taken to the central market, a huge outdoor market where you could buy almost anything. Clothes, shoes, meat, produce, pets, toys, it didn't matter. If you needed it, you could get it there. The one thing I noticed right away, was that the people at this market were very different from the people in the city. More Indian looking than anything, and unlike in the city, there weren't many people that looked like me. Despite that, I decided to make the best of it, and walked around for a couple of hours. These people were obviously poor, and looking for the best bargains they could get. Mostly families, and large ones at that, and there were children running around everywhere. I thought I'd have some fun, so I bought a huge bag of candy and walked around tossing it out to the children. Before I knew it, there seemed to be hundreds of kids following me, some of them aggressively tugging at my arm, making sure I gave them something. When I ran out of the candy, they still followed me like I was holding back something, but eventually lost interest, some of them scowling at me.

Next up, the chicken cages. Just had to do something for the adults, so I gave the chicken man a $20 U.S. bill, and he started stacking up cages of chickens, each with four chickens inside. I pulled them out one by one, and gave them away randomly, saying things like "The Indianapolis Colts will win the super bowl", and "Pearl Jam is from Seattle." I can't remember what else I said, but it was whatever happened to come out, some of it in spanish. There were many cheers from the crowd, and I felt like a rock star, but once the chickens were gone, a friendly english speaking policeman suggested that if I didn't leave soon, I might not escape with the clothes on my back. It wasn't the adults who would rob me or anything, but it was the children who would literally tear at my clothing to make sure there wasn't anything left. So, I took his advice, walked away from the market, and started looking for a taxi.

There was a problem with finding a taxi. Every taxi I saw was off duty and had entire families in them. I asked one person where I could hire a taxi, and he said I had to walk a couple miles to a gas station and I might find one there. That's what I thought he said anyway. My spanish isn't very good, in fact, it's down right awful. I did find the gas station, and there was a bus stop, but no bus going to Buenos Aires. Three hours later, I saw a barely running hunk of junk that looked like a taxi, flagged him down, and offered him 100 pesos to take me to town. Thankfully, he was more than happy to do it, and even pointed out sights of interest along the way. It was nearly dark when I arrived back at the hotel, but looking back, it was a very wonderful day.

The last day was full of good food, good sights, and more beautiful weather. It was one of the best days of the year for me, and I'm happy to add Buenos Aires to the list of large cities I've visited. I've been to most of the biggest and best cities in the world. New York, Tokyo, London, Rome, Paris and others, and in some ways they all seem the same. Don't get me wrong, they all have their own uniqueness about them. Their own architecture, their own food, their own museums, and of course, their own people. But there was something different about Buenos Aires. The first thing that comes to mind, is that it's one of the few places left in the world where American money is still worth something. It's like Europe in South America, but with kinder people. The European influence is undeniable, and yet there is something that sets it apart, something that gives Buenos Aires it's own identity. I think I'll need to go back and do more research to figure it out.

While I'm no expert on the social-economic make up of Argentina, there seems to be no middle class. You're either rich, or your poor. It's hard to tell in only four days, but I experienced the rich and the poor, and both were very nice to me, and everyone seemed happy. Believe it or not, there were more smiles in the market outside of town than in the city, but those people probably don't know any other way to live their lives. Hopefully, they are happy.

When I saw the women weeping at Eva Peron's tomb, I realized how much influence and emotion Evita still invokes, and she's been dead for 57 years. The song, "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" came into my mind, and obviously, these women weren't hearing the same song I was. Or maybe they did hear it, and were crying because Madonna played the role of Evita. Who knows what Eva Peron would think of her country today, but in my opinion, Argentina doesn't need to cry for anybody, because from what I've seen, rich or poor, at least everyone seems to be happy, and isn't happiness what everybody wants?

Hope, Change and Disappointment

First, I must admit, that when I began voting at the young age of 18, I registered as a Republican. I was so proud to vote for Ronald Reagan, and I was full of hope of what he was going to do for the country. That didn't last, as I struggled for most of the 80's, and all that hope turned into a disgust for all things government.

I soon came to believe that everyone involved in politics was corrupt, and I despised Democrats and Republicans equally. Even with that attitude, I continued to vote, and have never missed an election, due to the simple fact that I like to argue about politics. I have one basic rule when it comes to political arguments, and that is, I never argue, or even talk about politics, with anyone who doesn't vote. Despite the fact that I was on a federal grand jury for 18 months, and called to local jury duty three other times, I still vote no matter what, even when there are no good choices.

Which leads me to the most recent presidential election. No good choices. John McCain, who I respect a great deal for his service to this country, but has been a beltway insider, feeding from the public trough for way too long, and Barack Obama, a junior senator from Illinois, who didn't do anything to my knowledge, except go to Africa and act like a president, and study Marxism in college. Their picks for vice president were way more interesting. Sarah Palin, with that annoying, obnoxious voice, always got on my last nerve. Sure, she was pleasant to look at, then she opened her mouth. The more she talked, the more I wished she would shut up. Then we have Joe Biden. I've always liked Joe Biden, because he's uncensored, and there's always plenty of room in his mouth to insert his foot. However, I couldn't help but question the decision making abilities of McCain and Obama, because both of their running mates were nothing more than cartoon characters in my eyes. When it came time to make my decision, I voted for McCain, although I didn't feel all warm and fuzzy about it.

When Obama won the election, I decided that I was going to give him a chance. Why not? The country seemed to be going down the tubes, and he certainly said all the right things. Seemed like we needed to chart a new course for the country, especially after the previous eight years of George Bush's bumblings. I voted for Bush too, twice, and although I feel he kept the country safe, his spending habits left little to be desired. So, I gave Barack Obama my full support, and took my seat on the hope and change bandwagon. After all, if he didn't turn out to be the greatest President this country has ever had, he may very well be the last.

His inauguration was a spectacle, awe inspiring even. I was at a ski resort watching his speech on television, in a room with at least 200 other people, most of them cheering, and I have to admit, I was very impressed by his words. I returned to the slopes very proud to be an American, while the hope and change bandwagon reached cruising altitude. Unfortunately, it's turning out to be a short flight.

I'm not going to get in to everything, but my disillusionment began with the nomination of a tax cheat for Treasury Secretary. Are you kidding me? I didn't think he could be serious. Then the stimulus bill. Does anyone who is in debt trouble spend more money to try and get out of debt? It doesn't work like that in real life, but it will work for the government? Right. What was up with what seemed to be a global apology tour? Did he really say those things? Yes, he did. Seizing a few banks, seizing the auto industry, controlling executive pay, raise taxes on job producers? Yes. Definitely changing a few things.

When North Korea launched some missiles, President Obama "strongly condemned" Kim Jong-Ill. I bet he's scared now. Told the Russians he'd abandon the missile shield in Eastern Europe, for hopes of them standing with us in applying sanctions on Iran. Not gonna happen. In fact, the Russians are flexing their muscles more now than in the past 20 years, because they know that our President won't do anything. He won't even spend time with the general who is in charge of the war in Afghanistan, while more of our troops die.

Next up is the government takeover of health care. There needs to be big changes here, but are we to believe that the government is going to make it all better? Just like they have with Social Security, Medicare & Medicaid? What's the rush to force a bill through? It's so important, that time needs to be taken to get it right. In the midst of that fight, President Obama puts Oprah on Air Force One, and jets to Copenhagen to talk up Chicago for the Olympics. At taxpayer expense. Seriously?

There's so much more I could rant about, like the President's teleprompter, which I'm embarrassed for him every time I see him speak in public. It's like watching a person watch a tennis match. Head moving back and forth, never looking straight ahead. Don't even get me started on his Democrat lackey's like Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid. More embarrassing, out of touch ineptitude. Even the man who is in charge of writing the tax laws we all have to abide by, Democratic Congressman Charlie Rangel, is getting away with cheating on his taxes. Priceless.The Republicans aren't any better either. Where are all the great ideas they have? The only thing they seem to do at the moment is criticize.

While I don't have the answers either, I'm so embarrassed and disappointed in our government right now, that I just want to bury my head in the sand until it all gets worked out. That's hardly the right attitude to have, especially since I would suffocate myself. What will it take for our elected officials to come to their senses? Are they even capable of it? Doubtful. Every elected office should be limited to two terms. No more career politicians who are only interested in keeping their perks and power. That would be a start. Certainly better than tanks rolling down Pennsylvania Avenue in a military coup, forcibly removing all the elected officials who enjoy dreaming up new ways to put their hands in our pockets. Could that happen? I hope not, but the way things are looking, I wouldn't rule out anything.

Despite my disgust, I still respect President Obama. Maybe it's the office more than the man, but I respect him nevertheless. I certainly don't agree with his decisions regarding the path our country needs to be on. I think he was a bit twisted to even want the job, but he got it, and he has three more years left. We're getting "change we can believe in", that's for sure, but not the right kind. He says he's open to new ideas, so how about the Fair Tax? That would take too much power away from the politicians and abolish the IRS, so that won't happen anytime soon. That's too bad, because that's one idea that just might work. What do we have to lose at this point?

Will President Obama be re-elected to a second term? If the economy turns around and the unemployment rate drops, he has a good chance. Who will the Republicans nominate to run against him? Will we see a big-name third party candidate throw their hat into the ring? My only hope is that Sarah Palin didn't quit being governor of Alaska to run for President. I don't think what's left of my hearing can take anymore of her squawking. Please, Sarah, stay in Alaska and go moose hunting. This country has had enough embarrassment for the time being.