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1.

The old Tijuana bullring, la plaza de toros that opened near downtown back in 1938, is being torn down this month. For a place as new as this frontier city, any building that old is historic. But in a country whose capital, Mexico-Tenochtitlan, was officially founded by the Aztecs in 1325 (and they were johny-come-lately upstarts compared to Teotihuacan no, no), Mexico was a "new" city later rededicated as the capital Mexico City by the Spanish in 1521 (at the time of the conquest), well, please, I mean compared to that, our little 1938 out here on the far provinces is hardly even yesterday. There are still people alive who remember that year. Clearly. But nonetheless. It. Is. Yes.

Okay so this is the frontier of California, far, far from Mexico City and "there is no history here" (liar liar there is too, just younger and fresher) but just the same there is now a lot of noise about how terrible it is that the old bullring is being torn down. And noise on the other side, that it's about time, that this bullring is the ugliest bullring in all of Mexico. Yes, there is a lot of noise, sad noise and political noise and questions and finger pointing and all the head-shaking arguments that the word "progress" is heir to.

In a newspaper article responding to the historical "outrage," the Mayor passed the buck. It isn't the city's job to designate historical status, he said, that's the state's job. The city acted properly in granting a license to demolish the structure. Coincidentally this all is taking place just as the man quit his job this week on rainy Tuesday to run for governor. We smile. Demolition? Please don't ask us to explain – not even to understand – Mexican politics. This is a sacrifice. We have enough problems just figuring out how to ride the busses.

It wasn't the first bullring in Tijuana, there were others built ever since the 1800s, when the ranch became a real town. Here's an old postcard showing an earlier one from around 1900, some twenty years before prohibition began the golden age. But the toreo on Agua Caliente boulevard was (we believe) the first really big one, five or ten times larger than this little one in the postcard. 1938 was right at the tail end of the golden age. In the 1940s and 50s (the silver age), Hollywood stars like Ava Gardner and Marilyn Monroe and James Dean attended corridos here. This is part of the popular local mythology. Bullfights have always been a source of tourist revenue, but, much more important, bullfights are a traditional Mexican spectator sport with a brilliant pageantry of all those suits of light, and dance-like movements by the matadores and caparisoned horses, and the big band blasting out special music.

For those of you who are interested in attending a bullfight this year, fear not: there is another big bullring in Tijuana, El Toreo Monumental aka "Bullring-by-the-Sea," out in Playas de Tijuana, beside the Pacific Ocean.

No word on who actually owns the land of the old bullring back in town being torn down, but the toreo sits right on the main boulevard in the center of the city, and we can only dream what plans there be for constructing who knows what on the huge piece of land which includes ample parking lots as well as the structure.

But it is yet another change in a city that is often seen as nothing but change.

Local families are going by to take a last look at the structure being torn down, and snap a few last photographs for memories. Mexicans love to take photographs. Some of them are really quite good at it. The digital revolution has made this art into an instant-gratification group participation sport. But now we are changing the subject.

Crossing too many frontiers in our own left and write mind.

Oye, ¿no tienes ya tu blog o myspace? ¿Has visto las fotos que me robó y chingó Ektor en lo suyo?

Someone said, complaining about Sharkey-Toes.

2.

It rained again last night. But we are still short of rain, and here I thought this was going to be a wet year. Looks like not. And not only that, the long-range summer forecast has been released by scientists who generally are more or less right about their long-range forecasts, based on ocean temperatures or frozen witches' teat-hairs or something. The local newspaper picked it up today, warning of a dry summer to come and higher than ever danger of forest fires. Especially in the forested zones (but here we think we are mistranslating it seems a little redundant, no?

There always is a problem between my left brain and my write brain when I try to read in another language. As much as I love Mexico, as much as I totallyyyyyyyyyyy enjoy the sound and the sight of the Spanish tongue, I still find myself stumbling sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph. Sigh. Danger of forest fires in the forests. Huh. My brain flickers. That is not logical, Spock. Please coordinate....

Logic is a twittering little bird. Not.

3.

My neighbor – the wife – came back today. I was sitting here this afternoon struggling to re-write my tour information essays, update them, I mean, and tap tap tap on my window I was so startled, I almost jumped up out of my seat, and when I looked up and saw it was her I felt such a wave of relief to know that my fears about her being gone forever and her husband moving out to cover up her leaving him – or worse – were All False yes she is home safe and sound and found her old house empty and all her stuff moved over to the new house.

I was so very glad to see M yes. But she is quite upset that E moved all her stuff, didn't wait for her, etcetera.

Still, it's done. She told me their address. As I thought, it's only a few blocks away. They live right in the area where the big Sunday sobreruedas street market sets up every weekend.

But now they are gone. Their house is completely empty, except for a sofa and loveseat they haven't picked up yet. In between writing sections #2 above and this #3 right here tonight I go forward to their empty house in front and turn on a few lights and sit inside for a while drinking a cup of coffee and thinking about whether I really want to rent it or not. For some time now I have felt it is time for me to move but I never would have thought it could open up with a possibility like this, a chance to just move ten feet next door into a whole little house – two bedrooms with one bath and kitchen and living room and dining area, not counting my big studio room with bath out back.

And here, suddenly, is the opportunity. The question is do I want to spend the money? I am just barely getting by on my tight little budget as it is and cannot collect retirement for another ten or nine years yet. Better if I wait thirteen years, actually. Taking on the drastically increased rent would mean I'd have to work much harder – maybe even get a physical office job across the line in the U.S. instead of just consulting translations through the internet, and I would have to sell our services so much more (I work with Charlotte, my Mexican partner, remember), and really hustle to get some more translation jobs instead of just sitting back and letting them come in at their own speed while I concentrate on writing and...

But it would mean such an excellent upgrade in my living space, to have a real kitchen and be able to just turn one entire room into an office instead of cramming everything in my life into one studio room and the hell with everything else.

ALSO I could take all my books and records and files and stuff out of the storage unit in San Diego. That would be a relief right there.

But....

It is something to think about. I have only a few days in which to decide, before the landlord will have me showing the place to future renters. But somehow, I think that he, too, would be happier if I would just rent the place and take the problem off his hands.

I wonder what kind of deal I can talk him into. Probably nothing special. I know the game. You pay the rent and you get the house. Period. Still... I suspect he would rather have only one person here, someone he already knows. I also know he has plans for rebuilding. Just having one person here will be easier to work construction around than another family and me, too. Hmmm. This will require delicate negotiations. Delicately. These things must be done delicately. Delicately. Poppies. Poppies. Poppies will put them to sleep. Sleep... sleep...

Bullshit. All he wants is someone to pay the rent. If I want the house I must pay the money. That's all.