Born on Election Day

Got a very nice letter today in the mail from the American Association of Retired People, the AAA for the silver set. Now, I know that my birthday is fast approaching as I was born on election day. The media obsession with this historic presidential race just heighten my birthday anxiety. Know also that 50 may be a big number for some in terms of years but to get a solicitation from the AARP really brought it home, the delightful fact that the clock always ticks clock-wise.



Birthday Wish List 2008:
1. obama in the whitehouse.
2. obama in the whitehouse.
3. an electric pencil sharpener.

Indulge with me as I attempt to cram half a lifetime in one post.



1938 Pig Roast at one of the family farms; we were actually town folk.
My dearly departed father (boy in center) grew up in Cuba; healthy, prosperous, educated in the usa and perfectly congenial. He fell in love with the girl next door and had three kids. I'm the baby.



1958 Country Club courtship socials.
But the provincial life that was their dreams-come-true was about to be set ablaze by the Castro Revolution; the biggest longest burning bone-head fire. The flagship Caribbean island rejected Uncle Sam and in fifty years time managed to accomplish a monumental blunder; the creation of what can only be called the Museum Island of Failed Ideas or MIFI.


(photo not related, TX football victory bonfire)

1960 Hundreds and thousands of well-to-do cubano families abandoned their island homes and sought political asylum world-wide with the bulk settling in Miami. They were most assuredly running for their lives, but they also were lured by a secret and exciting promise of the American Dream.



1970 Popular Machinations.
A dream that many would realize in time but not without deep compromise and assimilation. Miami of 1960 looked like a swamp-sale boom for developers. I was just a snotty mogli alter-boy, an artist gestating in the tropics.


Canvas Cowboys
These chaps from the U of M typify the artist community in Miami back then.
I can't say when I decided to be an artist but after community college 1979, i flew the swamp, went around the world twice and ended back here in 1992.



2000 Unapologetic Irrevetent
Today the Miami artists community looks more like this.
Puni with Mr. and Mrs. Swampthing rehearsing the Vomitdinkleberry Movement Troup performance at ArtBaselMiamiBeach.



1990 Home is where the Art is.
Miami is a place where one can make a home and a family. With hard work and rot's of ruck you can "ride-off-into-the-sunset". But it is getting increasingly difficult for many to attain happiness aka to own property.



Grappling with Immorality
Being a parent is the single most gratifying responsibility ever. But kids need more than love.
They deserve a world that is at least no worse off than when we inherited it and at best a world that is bound for unimaginable wonder. They need change and hope; Fairness and Faith.



2008 Passions Path.
The spirits we possess need feeding.
Most of the time I just work hard at the studio, stay home and sacrifice.



Fools Stride
A moist n fuzzy happy first anniversary to S W A M P S T Y L E, my thoroughly distracting yet therapeutic personal blog journal techno-hobby. 49 more to go.



Deep Thoughts
The world is an empty stage and we are all oysters. Any one of us can build a pearl, just start with an annoying speck of swampsand.



So, what do I want for my filthiest birthday; on election day.......

you got it, O B A M A in the White House.

Oh yeah, and finally i want a day with my ladies at the Standard spa.




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