El Caballero

The story of a cultural transplant…

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A Blind Pig

Night has fallen. Restaurants are closing for the night. We walk towards the front door of an unassuming sandwich shop. A man at the door inspects a dimly lit list for our names. He stamps the missus’ hand then mine with a black illegible blob of ink and waves us along. There’s a young lady behind the counter offering bitesize desserts and glasses of bubbly. She was likely delivering a ham and swiss across the same counter a few hours earlier, now it is champagne and shortcakes. She directs us past the register and down a corner stairway. We proceed as instructed and as we turn into the basement, the room is full of life.
The bar is crowded and all but two tables in front of the stage are occupied. We sit and sip. The stage is lit. Piano, drums, guitar, bass, and mics all waiting to come to life. The music fades as the band takes stage and an explosion of fun ensues.
There is something...

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Snow Day

The morning excitement of sliding out of bed and into bed side flip-flops is long gone. Many moons ago that was my ritual. A ritual that, early on, included salt water and sand. Thirty years later, I have traded flip-flops for powder clogs, sand for snow, and a boogie board for a sled.
Throughout my childhood, I heard tales of children waking to snow covered streets and school cancellations. The closest thing to a snow day in my world was when schools closed because of hurricanes or storms. It only happened occasionally and within the first couple of months of a school year during hurricane season. Nowadays, I watch a daily ticker scroll across the morning news listing the school closings in the region. I imagine hundreds of kids receiving the news and cheering as they start their days.
I recently experienced my first snow day as a ‘work from home’ day. Hours passed sitting at my bay...

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First Freeze

Driving on the highway, I take notice of the wind. The unseen element transitions into view as small particles lift in its wake. The patterns and path of the winds become apparent as the salt and snow take its shape. Like serpents slithering along the asphalt, I see the wind in motion and stillness.
I walk through the park with the grass crackling beneath my shoes. Rubber sole to frozen soil, so foreign to me. Winter brings a deep sleep to the earth. I wonder how anything survives through this unrelenting cold.
Skaters glide across a frozen pond. I watch in disbelief thinking of the awful stories I have heard about ice breaking and hypothermia. Families are playing hockey. I skated once or twice many years ago at an ice rink in Florida but never imagined it under blue skies surrounded by trees and rolling hills. I can’t contain the excitement.
I trepidatiously step on to the frozen...

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The Eve of a New Year

It is New Year’s Eve. A time to reflect on the year that has passed and also a time to celebrate the start of a new calendar. As I slip a Lil’ Darlin into a koozie, pop the top, and sit down to write, I land squarely in the middle.
It has been a roller coaster ride of a year that has taken me from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs. These experiences, although common occurrences, were unimaginable to me twelve months ago. We humans are terrible at predicting our own futures. So many hours daydreaming about life and calculating outcomes but this past year has proven that I will never know what is to come.
As I take a sip from my beer, I reminisce about the friends and family that I have left behind and wonder what this new year will bring. I have discovered many things this year. The most impactful discovery is that there is always something wonderful to discover. It can be...

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Home.

I travel to the great north across the border. As I cross the bridge, through the snow, I take a moment and smile, “How can this adventure endlessly surprise me?”.
Six months ago, I could not imagine driving a rental car across a bridge to Canada but here I am. I feel confident steering through the light layer of slushy snow. All the youthful bike trails have trained me for this moment. The tires occasionally slip but I instinctively correct and fit in with the local traffic.
A week of navigating through snow to and from the office, I am still in awe. So much that is foreign to me, presented like a script. The return across that bridge brought me right back to the excitement ahead. I never know what is to come but I know that there is always more. I arrive at Detroit Metro to board a plane home.
The plane circles above Louisville as I peer over the wing down to the river. I exit the...

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First Snow

It is a grey morning. I gather the loads and collect the detergent. The time has come to head to the local Laundry Mart. On my way towards the car, I see the white flakes. Could it be true? Yes, the news forecast stated a possible chance for snow.
I drop the basket and supplies, turning towards the front porch to call for the missus. She had followed me out and was standing in the doorway. Declaring the obvious, as excitement leads one to do, I shout, “IT’S SNOWING! IT’S SNOWING!!”. Head tilted back, mouth agape to the sky, catching snowflakes on my tongue, it is a cinematic moment.
A woman walking two dogs makes her way up the hill and sees me spinning in the walkway, arms wide, and gazing to the sky. I erupt at her with joy, “IT’S SNOWING! IT’S SNOWING!!”. Her face lights up with a smile as she responds by raising her arms to the sky and echoing, “IT’S SNOWING! IT’S SNOWING!!”.
The...

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First Frost with a Super Moon on the Side

I lived in a predictable weather pattern, knowing what to expect when stepping out for the day. The only question about the weather was “Will it rain today?”. Now, I find myself checking the weather constantly. Giddy like a child, waiting for ice, fog, sleet, snow, wind, and rain.
I woke up and started my day as usual. Checking the temperature to calculate how many layers would be required to walk the dogs this morning. I consider how cold it was during last night’s walk and subtract a few degrees. Then a few more for being Florida blooded. Next, I spot a local walking his dog, compare how many layers he has on, and decide that I need one more. Ultimately, I wear the same thing every morning but calculating the expectation makes sunrise pretty fun.
I notice a sparkle on the grass, the street light is catching the morning dew at a perfect angle. I start my car and turn on the wipers to...

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Fat Bottomed Squirrels

Squirrels have always been a nuisance to my father. He would see squirrels nibbling on the fruit of his trees. My father would bark and squawk until the squirrels scampered off. He was always willing to share the bounty. If only the squirrels would finish what they started; instead of taking a few bites from each fruit and then moving on to the next. The mangoes and avocados which grew in our backyard were always lightly chewed. My father never had a squirrel friend.
The trees are different here in Louisville. I do not recognize them. I peer through the window and see a local squirrel. He is heavier than the ones from my past and I watch him closely as he hops from the fence to the trash bin, and then straight up a tree trunk. He is surprisingly spry for having such a plump bottom.
I suppose the squirrels in these parts load up in the fall and add a few extra pounds to prepare for the...

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Louisville I Greet You

When I first moved to Florida, we had one tree that would lose its leaves in autumn. I remember helping my father rake those leaves and then jumping into the pile before bagging them. It only happened for a few years but it is one of my earliest memories. I haven’t raked leaves since then but the cycle will now begin again. I have arrived in Louisville as autumn is coming to an end. Winter will be here soon. Over rolling hills, from the south, I am here now.
Louisville is a remarkable gem of a city. It could be a honeymoon phase, but I think I’m in love. She has a subtle wink and a humble sparkle that makes me smile. I feel as if I am living in a movie that is set in a more perfect America, kind hearted friendliness and all. I tend to wonder what took so long to get here but then I recognize that I am where I need to be and it took exactly the right amount of time to get here. What’s...

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Goodbye Big Water

Tides roll in, then recede. This is a natural cycle that sustains life. It is nature’s way of breathing. Miami’s name comes from a Native American Indian word meaning “big water”. “Miami” is what the original South Florida natives called the area’s river that cuts through to the ocean. The Miami River is the river that the city was built around. A river that is now overshadowed by nightlife in South Beach and Wynwood.
Boxes are packed. Plans have been made. I now leave from one city on a river to another. Another river, named by another tribe of American Indians. The Ohio River will be my new water. The rolling waters poised to sustain life and reinvigorate the weary. I shall greet you soon…
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