Funny girls

My childhood friend, Sergio, is in town to babysit his mother Irma and his sister's mother-in-law Isabel while his sister takes a much needed vacation.

Irma is 86 and Isabel is also in her 80's, but, we don't get a confirmation from her, just a chuckle.

Irma + Isabel

Irma and Isabel both live with Sergio's sister Nieves, her husband Paco, and their son Frankie, in a comfortable home in New Jersey. Both Irma and Isabel suffer from senility. They're a hoot. Really.

Irma + Isabel

Irma and Isabel inhabit a sprawling, finished basement. Two shifts of caretakers attend to them until 5 or 6 when the family takes over the task of looking over these two funny girls. The funny girls have two yorkie sidekicks, Motica and Noey who bark because they're very small.

Motica

Noey

Both Irma and Isabel have a special predilection for cleaning up and putting things away in the most unlikely places. Here is where they differ: Irma LOVES mangoes. She will hide these from Isabel so only Irma can get at them when she remembers.  Isabel prefers to gather garbage in her drawers when she's cleaning.  She will only put the garbage back in the garbage when Paco, her son says it's ok to do so. They both love to make and drink Cuban coffee.  They watch Spanish TV, but, mainly just as background noise to their overactive imaginations.

Irma is quiet and subdued while Isabel is loud and assertive. Irma attends to every last button in her dress as well as Isabel's, whose skirt is a little askew.
Irma seems to vaguely remember me. Sergio is her prince, so if he says I'm his old friend, then she likes me too. Isabel asks if I'm married, I tell her I'm divorced, just to get her talking. That sets off a verbal explosion of sorts. During the time I go to the bathroom, Isabel tells Sergio that I'm not to be trusted. This may have something to do with me being a divorcee...maybe she's reacting to my limping? Oy vey.

The funny girls only speak Spanish. As Sergio and I comfortably switch off to English and to talk about our lives, they mainly speak amongst themselves. At times they seem to be watching us, although it's hard to say whether they're actually observing.  When they get bored, they get up and do some dusting or make Cuban coffee again. The funny girls interact in a funny way with each other. When Isabel is speaking about an old man who escaped from his house when she was a little girl in Cuba, Irma makes faces behind her back and signals that Isabel is looney. Isabel is oblivious to this and heartily enjoys recounting her Cuban past.

The funny girls have adapted to their living quarters and they don't like to venture beyond it.  They're also very funny and concerned about their bedtime. They would go to bed at 6PM, but, they're not allowed. They would get up at dawn and disrupt the household's sleeping patterns.

If the brain is a record player and life has a repetitive pattern to it, then my guess is that senility makes kind of its own sense. It's a different sense of reality. For us, so rooted in our reality, it's hard to discern where the funny girls'  cognitive functioning begins or ends. More importantly, I think is whether to engage in this alternate reality with the funny girls. Do you smoke the whole joint with them or do you do like our past president and not inhale? Like everything in life, it's a fine balance.

We call them "chancletas"

There used to be a time when clothing and culture were determined based on how close you were  to the equator.  It was ok to see a topless indigenous person on the cover of National Geographic, but, certainly not an American on the beach in carefree Provincetown.

It's interesting then, that for many years now the reverse has been taking place.  Memorial Day and Labor Day do not hold an exclusive to the use of white wear. No longer are we bound by professional and casual dress. Unless of course, you're working that finance beat.

A case in point, flip flops.  In Cuba, we call them chancletas.
Not sure what they call them in Brazil, however I would venture to say that flip flops may be one of their biggest exports. These humble shoes are made out of rubber. Before being skyrocketed to cult status, flip flops were found in solid colors. Usually accompanied by some sort of house dress and hair rollers, only the poorest of the tropics' poor would be caught out in these. Now, they are fashionable garb at ivy league graduations and hip, professional klatches.

As a newly arrived 9 year old to the States, I lived with my sister, mother and
father next door to my aunt, uncle and 2 younger cousins: (Eddie and Lizzie)  in side-by-side apartments. Lucky for us, during the long winter months we had an extended playground without having to go out in the cold. One day, my aunt's boss stopped by for a casual visit. She was a nice lady named Pat. I guess that Pat was invited over for some Cuban coffee and then she was introduced to the children. All of us girls were well-behaved and polite. And then, it came time to meet my little cousin Eddie. Eddie didn't get out much (he was probably 4 or so).  Eddie looked at Pat, proudly pointed to his furry-little-man flip flops and asked "do you like my new chancletas ?" When the poor lady failed to understand, Eddie did what any American boy his age would have done. He asked again, but, this time he Americanized the term, "do you like my  new chanclets?" and also pointed to his feet.  Mission accomplished.

If you wear chancletas you will probably engage in an activity known as chancletear; or that slip- slap sound that can be heard from miles away as you walk in them. If you do this often enough you can be called a chancletera. The meaning of chancletera goes beyond the noun form. It's vernacular that says that you're a very sassy, crude, street or vulgar person.  Of course, this kind of behavior is totally acceptable  in fashionable circles, making the chancleta synonymous with easy-breezy casual elegance.

And there you have it. No need to over think it. It's the dog days of July. It's hot. It's really hot. What will you wear?

CHANCLETAS!!!!

FULOP'S FIRST DAY

It's official. Jersey City has a new mayor. It happened last night @6PM in front of City Hall.


In preparation for this event, the streets around my neighborhood were closed to traffic as of 9:00AM yesterday morning. I had to walk over 2 blocks to wait for my ride by the main public library on Jersey.
Not complaining, just saying.

Here's a  view of the big party from my rooftop.