Saturday, April 30, 2011

My business trip to Brazil

4/25/11 1602
To get the blunt honest truth give me a couple of drinks and we’ll start the tour of San Paulo Brazil. Compare d to Rio, this is where the work horses come and feed on their scraps. Where grey clouds followed me from New York, where fucking think prick motorcycle drivers abandon the rules of the road and cut in front by inches in front of smoldering bumpers, where rotting dog carcasses, their fat basking in the sun boil line a highway. This is where the buildings are grey. Consume me Bohemia beer, meat, Novilho de Prata flesh of the metal cords, the men come to the dinner to slice off the once living blood. The creatures crawl in high heels, a warm breeze blows through the room and I consider sleep and more sleep and more Bohemia beer and the Cuban cigar I can sit and meditate outside away from the churches, you shouldn’t do that, “That’s what Sister Ray said.” The smoke of distant ghetto fires where the hunger to survive corrupts the youth. You shouldn’t do that, burn away the wood and fall asleep in ghettos.

4/29/11 1957

Getting to the airport was an ordeal. There were two accidents that slowed traffic to a crawl. Motorcycles cut in and out of traffic; some sped down the highway as if they didn’t care if they hit anything, dead dogs, shit on the road. A river cut through the city, shit floated on the top. Small brick buildings, shanty downs, a clothes line under the highway overpass. Some sold water in the middle of the highway and had to ward off the motorcyclists, like gnats.
This morning dealt with a hangover. It’s been a long time, happens with cheap drinks, sugar.
Writing this on board the flight before we take off, sitting in business. As my coworkers get in the back, I told them I asked for the emergency row for more leg room, but an upgrade was in the works. This is nice, I’ll sleep tonight. Misery loves company.

Back home. Got back here early this morning, there was little traffic at 6:30ish on a Saturday. The driver wouldn’t shut the fuck up or listen and took my $20 tip. Will never see him again. Ali was up and let me in; I was shot and stayed awake for a couple of hours. The trees are close to full bloom. Saw Amanda first and she was excited to see me. Joe came up and gave me a big hug, and then Bella boo. Emma came downstairs a little later and I gave their gifts to them. Fell asleep for a couple of hours and got up, walked to the gas station for the lawnmower and cut down the long grass in the back. I’m beat. Tomorrow, taking Emma Tess to Boston to see her band, 30 seconds to mars. Lord have mercy.

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