Saturday, March 13, 2004


Raven and I have been loafing since we returned to Mexico. He has several buddies in the area that meet up with us at the swimming complex here in the village, so he’s happy.

This morning it’s back to trying coffee for me—blood pressure inching downward makes me feel invincible again.

Raven is mooning around in the sun coming in the kitchen window.

“Hey. There’s a wasp in my coffee!”

The bird is having none of that. He dumps the cup and the wasp beats a hasty retreat, buzzing in zigzags to the front door.

“So. What would Jung make of that?”

Probably he would be more on target if it were a scarab beetle. But I think it means that you are supposed to look at things more closely, not just gulp down adventure after adventure.

“In that case, the message should have been for you. In your cup.”

Or maybe it’s something we can analyze politically. Who is the wasp in the coffee, politically speaking?

“Disingenuous question, I see. Hugo Chavez already nailed that for us this week when he said that the biggest single threat to the survival of the planet is George W. Bush.”

Some scientist in the UK said much the same thing. He said that Bush’s disregard of global warming was more dangerous than the wars he’s intent on waging all around the planet.

“Then you have it. The wasp in the coffee is Bush. Too bad he didn’t drown.”

You’re the one who saved his life.

“Just a reflex action. Next time I’ll let him drown.”

If there is a next time….