Countdown to Home

Looks like we are leaving back to the Crescent in a few days. All reports state that we are fine, our area is dry. The porch has continued in exile long enough, now it is time to return to the homeland. I want to go home purely for health reasons. Last couple of days been gulping the rum and ice, eating the fried out pork fat, congri, yucca at later and later hours in the day. Cramming odd Latin foods down my gullet at stranger and stranger times. That is fine if I was a Latin Jazz band leader with Machito or Tito Puente, but little old me, I am sorry. Never passed gas like this before.

So now the mad Hispanic family dash is on! The relative are leaving. For reasons that I cannot understand, no one comes to see me. Everyone wants us to come over there, a lechon here, a mojito there, pampero in Hialeah, dominoes in Kendall. Next time I either will visit Miami clandestinely, like a Communist, or wait for cloning technology to be perfected. It is impossible!

So I sit here on the virtual porch burping and farting, waiting for another invitation to calories that I have no way of burning, as my liver works like an old air conditioner in South Florida- as in barely functioning!