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  • hardie karges 2:33 pm on March 29, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: India Pakistan, , , Punjab   

    Poon-Job in the Punch-up of the Pun-jab 

    Would our pronunciations of foreign names be any better if we know what they mean? The ‘Punjab’ region of India and Pakistan means ‘Five Waters’, for good reason, the word ‘Punj/Panch’ related to Greek ‘penta’ = five and the word ‘ab’ close to Latin ‘aqua’ for ‘water’ (compare to Romanian ‘apa’, and note that ‘p’ and ‘qu’ sounds are frequently transferable). The ancient classic European languages were once cognate with the ancient Indian language Sanskrit, from which most other subcontinental languages–and many others–derive. So why do our best newscasters insist on referring to it as ‘Poon-Job’? Sounds like some lewd sex act in the desert, or the river… yuk…

     
  • hardie karges 5:40 pm on March 28, 2016 Permalink | Reply  

    #Lahore #Pakistan: Part I, Crossing Borders 

    The line that divides India and Pakistan is one of the world’s most definitive borders, visible from space, and cross-able at only one point, and even then with no special ease—no internation…

    Source: #Lahore #Pakistan: Part I, Crossing Borders

     
  • hardie karges 5:38 pm on March 28, 2016 Permalink | Reply  

    #Lahore #Pakistan: Part I, Crossing Borders 

    Here’s wishing you better days, Lahore, with fond memories in mind…

    Hyper-Travel: Karma Bum, Dharma Dawg, and the Ballot-Proof Monk

    Mall Road, Lahore, Pakistan Mall Road, Lahore, Pakistan

    The line that divides India and Pakistan is one of the world’s most definitive borders, visible from space, and cross-able at only one point, and even then with no special ease—no international buses or trains do the route and flights cost out the yin-yang. You have to take taxis, cheap enough to the border itself for the special daily closings, but not intended for actual crossings. Only limited amounts of freight cross, too, the majority going by sea, between two countries with miles of contiguous border.

    The reasons for this go beyond the scope of this write, but the relationship is not always cozy, to say the least. But already in Amritsar on the Indian side the region is starting to feel a bit different, a bit more like what Uzbekistan felt like, though I dream of those broad avenues right now, and don’t expect Pakistan…

    View original post 800 more words

     
    • Esther Fabbricante 8:03 pm on March 28, 2016 Permalink | Reply

      I see that this was written two years ago – and, as for me, I would be obliged to stay at home. But I am going to Nashville/Franklin with Charla and all my children for my birthday on May 8, 2015.

      Esther

  • hardie karges 1:09 am on March 24, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: climate, geography, seasons   

    Celebrating the Last Day of Winter… 

    IMG_0329The high today in Tucson was 69f/21c…

    That will have to last me a while…

    It’ll get worse before it gets better…

    You won’t see that again for the better part of a year…

    …though much the worse part…

     
    • Esther Fabbricante 1:28 am on March 24, 2016 Permalink | Reply

      Fran and Rick (my youngest daughter and her husband) are stranded in Denver due to snow/blizzard. They were to have flown home to Atlanta tonight after two weeks skiing, etc. The airport is closed and they can’t get a flight until Friday. Luckily, they got a room at a motel for one night, and hoping for another night.

      Esther

  • hardie karges 4:55 pm on March 22, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , Raleigh, , tobacco   

    The tobacco-spitting contest… 

    was the big deal in Raleigh, Mississippi.  That’s down in Simpson County, in case you were wondering, out in the middle of a cow pasture, out in the middle of nowhere.  That’s the Deep South there.  You can’t go any deeper.   That’s country, capital C.  There are some bloodlines down there that haven’t seen light in many decades.  Fortunately, nobody talks about ‘missing links’ anymore, so I won’t either.  Anyway, it’s all about hydraulics, the spit, that is.  They chew up a big wad, then tuck that sucker in the back of their mouths, chewing and mooing, extracting those rich juices all the while and letting them flow back as close to the gag reflex as possible without setting off any alarms.

    When they’ve got a mouthful, they ready their stance and cock their heads back as far back as possible for catapult effect, or maybe a trebuchet, considering the counterweight paunch.  Then they spring suddenly forward and send that sucker flying at a thirty degree arc from horizontal, going going going some twenty feet before splattering on the ground in a trail of goop.  It’s good clean fun; don’t forget to wear protection.  In Thailand the slug races are the big backyard event every morning as the sun also rises.  All the slugs start the long trek up the perimeter wall to avoid the heat of day.  They don’t tell you this in the tourist brochures.  BTW Midwesterners just can’t compete for spit.

     
    • Esther Fabbricante 7:24 pm on March 22, 2016 Permalink | Reply

      Really gross! Makes me gag just to watch the video – Red Neck country for sure.

      I saw Wilson on stage Saturday night at the Brandon Opry. I couldn’t see his good looks very will with the baseball cap he was wearing. Bobby Joe’s performance was first class with the Opry Band – better and better.

      Esther

    • davekingsbury 7:55 pm on March 23, 2016 Permalink | Reply

      Travelogue for masochists? Book me a ringside seat …

  • hardie karges 5:59 pm on March 15, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Grateful Dead, hippie, psychedelic, rock-and-roll   

    Muchas Garcias for the Grateful Dead… 

    me@venice…who were possibly the most phenomenal rock-and-roll band ever, whether or not the most successful.  Bathed in the fire of the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Tests in 1966 and the ‘summer of love’ in 1967, they gave new meaning to the term ‘cult following’.  They not only defined the psychedelic era in the US, but single-handedly passed it on to another generation.  I saw them for the first time in 1972 at the Fox Theatre in St. Louis during their initial wave of mass popularity following the Haight-Ashbury formative era, and following on the heels of the top-notch ‘Workingman’s Dead’ and ‘American Beauty’ albums.  They were always best live, though, and I saw them again in 1983 in a nostalgia show for their ‘Deadicated’ hardcore following at Kesey’s Oregon Country fairgrounds.  Throughout all those years they played a New Year’s show every year in the Bay Area for the faithful.  But the real mania didn’t start until about 1990 when ‘all that hippie stuff’ was supposedly long over, and the ‘hair bands’ were dying as Nirvana was climbing the charts with their toe-tapping grunge and despair.  The Dead ruled the concert arenas, however, playing to full stadiums.  People would follow them all over the country ‘on tour’ with the band, just like the old days, building instant cities on site in each city.  These were little hippie ‘Indian villages’ complete with Main Street and local politics.

    That’s where I came in, peddling import ethnic fashion accessories for hippies, and it was good, if a bit chaotic, for a while at least, typically selling $500-1000 worth of goods a day with little more than the hood of my car for a table.  Well, you can bet some people saw the $ there, caravanning around the country with a fleet of vans and goods and advance men, even drop-shipping pallet-loads of nitrous oxide containers for pick-up at the show-site cities on the respective dates.  That was for those imbibers who favor a quick rush, frequently falling out on the spot for a fifteen second eternity.  I always declined those ‘whip-its’, both for sale and ingestion.  As a businessman, I was more of a hit-and-run artist, flying in with a few large boxes of merchandise, renting a car, and jockeying for parking space on the ever-volatile Miracle Mile.  The hype got too big, of course, and I stuck it out long enough to see it decline because of its own excess.  The music lived on, though, and still does.  I doubt seriously that anyone out-performed the Dead in concert sales from 1990 until 1995, when bandleader Jerry Garcia died.  All good things must come to an end sometime.

     
  • hardie karges 12:29 am on March 9, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , Huautla, ,   

    Borderland Mexico seemed pretty weird, way back in… 

    IMG_0069.JPG…1974 when I was twenty years old.  Now I know why it seemed so weird at the time.  It is.  The border between the US and Mexico is one of the weirdest places in the world, and used to be even weirder, back in the days of donkey shows and so forth.  There was a whorehouse scene down there back then that would give modern Thailand a run for its money.  Of course some of the Mexican girls might inspire you to run for your life.  What they do with makeup could put hair on your chest, or something on your somewhere, at least.   (More …)

     
  • hardie karges 7:48 pm on March 2, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Brandon, , , , tractor   

    Kids typically start riding motorbikes at a very early age in… 

    IMG_1852…Thailand, frequently causing problems for everybody else.  They seem to think that if they’re on the shoulder of the road, then there’s no problem.  The problem is that drivers go both directions on that shoulder.  As if streets weren’t crowded and congested enough already, you have to weave through people coming at you from all directions.  Mississippi takes the award for early four-wheel driving, however.  In rural areas it wasn’t uncommon at all to see thirteen-year-olds driving on country roads.  The rules didn’t apply to farm machinery.

    Little Teddie drove his tractor all over town long before driving age, gaining a reputation he still maintains to this day.  Surely the cops knew what he was doing, but never stopped it.  It’s all a matter of who you know.  Of course in Mississippi you could get a full driving license at fifteen, so it wasn’t so bad.  I got a learner’s permit to drive in class at fourteen, fine as long as a real driver was in the car.  We had a circular driveway, so I drove around that sucker endlessly.  Life was exciting in Brandon, Mississippi, famous because we had a Miss America once…

     
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