Antigua, Guatemala

Hard to take a bad picture in Antigua

I hate to inundate the internet with more pictures of places but Antigua probably has so many that it doesn't matter anymore. I use the word "Antigua" when I describe my van. I think it means "Ancient" or "Antiquated" something like that. So when my antiquated van is in a Spanish colonial city named "Ancient" it's a weird confluence. The volcano's name is "Agua". This town in Guatemala is not to be confused with the Caribbean Island of the same name.

It's Semana Santa month in Latin America, where the true Catholics live. And Antigua has arguably the largest Semana Santa processions in the world in which the entire town actually reenacts the last days of Jesus Christ. Except for my greying beard I sort of look like Jesus now so I had to get out of town before I ended up on a cross. I have a hard enough time keeping the van running without hundreds of Guatemalans dressed as Roman centurions chasing me with spears.

This dog got locked outside above my camping spot while the maid cleaned the house.

Antigua has a lot to offer but I felt the number of drunk Americans smoking pot and requesting Bob Marley during my song set were too many. You come all the way from Portland to smoke pot and drink beer in Antigua?> And wear hippie clothes? Like you can't do that in Ashland? You know Lassen is a volcano too?

Oggy's van spoils an otherwise good picture

I guess I'm bitter and despondent. I read some book by a NY writer that was real tired and dull, lots of complaining and anecdotes about constipation and failed love affairs and his heart breaking over swear words written on subway walls. I forget the author and I don't care. He wrote like three books plus this compilation of his "columns". what a phony motherfucker. I liked his writing when it was called Catcher In The Rye. I like to think I don't beat that dead horse too much but it doesn't matter. A guy can write about his depressed worldview and I guess it will fill some space on a page and maybe sell a few leather jackets. The only good thing was a random reference to a Thomas Mann work called Tonio Kroger, which I thought was a long lost book I'd been looking for since 1991 that I knew was by a German author and had a title like Young Kroger but now I'm not sure.

I had to take a picture because I was fixing my van the entire time I was in Antigua

I should be real proud as I showed up at a bar that was nearly empty and a man was singing and saw my guitar so he handed the mic to me and I played some tunes, including the Terlingua Waltz in a world premier...some Ernest Tubb tunes...Lefty...Willie...Blue Moon of Kentucky...and Neon Moon by Brooks and Dunn. All the HonkyTonk tunes and the favorites from my inner hillbilly. And it was tolerable, at least smoking is prohibited inside in Antigua. But the next night was filled with I think some kind of volunteer health professionals-in-training all screaming for Bob Marley and I pretty much vomited in my mouth and pined for the old age home in Uvalde where everyone had artificial hips but authentic personalities while the stoner set in Antigua had artificial personalities and perfect bones. I'm no pop star if playing Buddy Holly tunes is construed as a political statement. FUck it. I walked back to the park and played alone on a bench with the stray dogs as an audience. Give me an old age home with people who know Duke Ellington and Bob Wills.

I don't know why Google automatically edited this photo an then emailed it to me. That's sort of creepy but whatever they did it looks good.