Washing of The Water

My first introduction to Peter Gabriel was on MTV. Sledgehammer was an odd video. I preferred Madonna's striptease offerings at the time. Later I learned he was in Genesis. Sometime in 1992, when I was out of the loop of modern culture he recorded this song. I nearly shit myself when it came on my iPod randomly today. It's pretty much impossible to sing without getting emotional but I'll give it a shot when I figure out the chords and melody - and how to avoid the falsetto. I wonder if he was listening to Jackson Browne albums when he wrote this song...

Look At Me Now

I think this song is appropriate for my current emotional state.

Film Reviews By An Illegal Alien In Mexico

I became an illegal alien somewhere between Piedras Negras, Mexico, the busy frontier town, and Montclova, Mexico, a town of paint stores and stray dogs. My last chance to obtain a tourist visa, or some kind of official evidence that Mexico agreed to let me tour her land, was at the border when I innocently rented a taxi and asked to be taken to "El Centro De Autobuses."

I'd read that visas are not required. Only a passport. Well, the truth is that you are supposed to buy a 180 day tourist visa at the border. If you arrive by plane then it's part of the plane ticket. If you arrive by land then you are supposed to find the immigration office and fill out the paperwork, especially if you are driving a car since you can't import your vehicle without the tourist permit, but definitely if you are walking. I did none of this, innocently ignorant at first, and then flagrantly irresponsible later.

This post is basically a self portrait so...

My planning for the trip was like this:

(V.O.) Oggy: Should I go to Mexico? Hmmmm. Fuck it. Yes. Pack your shit and go.

Oggy packs 2 extra shirts, the pants he is wearing, socks, bongos, claves, a songbook, presents for Mynx and his passport. Less than most people take to the gym.

(Cut To)

Oggy to Landlord: Hey, can you drive me to the bus station?

Landlord: What for?

Oggy: I'm going to Mexico.

Landlord: When will you be back?

Oggy: A week or two. I'll send you a postcard.

Landlord: Ok.
Oggy: One more thing...
Landlord: What?
Oggy: I might be bringing back a wife.
Landlord: ????Uh????
Oggy: There's my bus, gotta go...!

(Cut To)

Oggy getting on a bus bound for the border. Waving goodbye to puzzled Landlord.

Some cultural artifacts

The most sexy girls...are here us?

 Right, it's not like the strip club is full of Americans who could edit your business card...(These models had the night off when I was there.)

God Loves A Desperate Man

Oggy On The Road

I swear that I tried to avoid this situation but it was my destiny to be stranded near Alpine, Texas with no bus or plane or bike or alternative option to cross the desert, having nearly walked from the ancient city of Chihuahua to the frontier, lips swollen, but eyes no longer weeping loneliness.

And thus it was my destiny to be picked up by a pretty Mexican Doctor of Forestry on her way back to Monterrey, Mx from Big Bend National Park. She literally said it was because of the Bongo drums, laying in the cow manure near my ravaged backpack, that she turned around and came back for me.