Another View

In light of this week's wide-spread violence in Michoacan, I wish to offer a more tranquil side of life...another view...that may be enjoyed on any day around Lake Patzcuaro.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art is immediate and often reflective of current events. It will be no surprise as an entire genre of folk art depicting narco-violence continues, particularly from the narrative clay artisans of Ocumicho, Michoacan (located so near the latest round of attacks).

Firecrackers

Some recipes require blind faith (and absolutely no skill). This is one...

Mix in a one gallon Ziploc bag:

1 1/3 cup of canola oil
1 tbsp red pepper flakes
1 tbsp cayenne pepper (more if you like it hot)
1 packet dry ranch dressing mix

Add 4 sleeves of saltine crackers.

Close bag & turn every 15-20 minutes for 2 hours to coat crackers.

That's it.

A) You can't eat just one, or two, or three so make lots.
B) I don't know why this recipe works.
C) Happy Fourth, todos.

Parting thought...To the one and only Anita, a true character of Mexico. For many, la hora feliz and sunsets over the Pacifico will never be the same. Non, je ne regrette rien.

OCUMICHO: Dollars and Saints

In Ocumicho, Michoacan during the Fiesta of San Pedro and San Pablo, the significance of...the gratitude for...the river of dollars flowing down from El Norte is undeniable.

But the river of remittances has now slowed to a trickle. No doubt today, the prayers to San Pedro and San Pablo will be more fervent than ever adding greatly to a day already passion-filled.

Parting thought...It is often said that when the United States (economy) gets a cold, Mexico suffers a heart attack.

To this I add, it is now the United States having the heart attack.

OCUMICHO: Two Worlds

During the Fiesta of San Pedro and San Pablo, June 29-30 in Ocumicho, Michoacan, there is a feeling of two worlds.

The main church is decked in red and white banners suspended like sails from high rafters. Below, precise floral arrangements---seemingly ordered from FTD---flank the candle-filled altar.

My impressions: Baroque, organized, expensive, modern, glitter-filled, store bought...new.

Meanwhile, the communal hall---the "hospital"---located in the courtyard below the main church, is dark and cool. Handmade paper banners sway over vase after vase of colorful flowers of the season, haphazardly arranged yet completely lovely in their imperfection.

The candles here are fragile and adorned with pressed wax creations, their bright colors emulating the clay folk art for which Ocumicho is famous.

Other candles are wonderfully lacy and naive with just a touch of silver glitter added as a finishing touch...more sugary confection than mere wax. Upon inquiring, "These were made by the old man just two blocks down", as fingers pointed further down the hill.

My impressions at the "hospital": Humble, handmade, naive, thoughtful, spirit-filled, spontaneously creative...found here, objects of devotion seemingly coming from an older place.

But now the church bells are ringing and the faithful gather to give thanks to San Pedro and San Pablo, and the perceived two worlds of Ocumicho come together as one.

Let us pray, and let the fiesta begin.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art remains remarkably open to influences both old and new, thus forever regenerating. Mexican folk art is never static.

OCUMICHO, The Fiesta of San Pablo and San Pedro

The village of Ocumicho is surely bustling today as final preparations are underway for the Fiesta of San Pablo and San Pedro, June 29 and 30. It's anyone's guess if the rains will hold off, but if they do, the two-day veneration of San Pedro and San Pablo is magnificent and colorfully reflective of Ocumicho's famously devilish clay folk art.

Although times will vary, here is a general schedule for June 29th, the main day of events.

June 29
The Annual Fiesta of San Pablo and San Pedro
Ocumicho, Michoacan (about 2 hours NW of Patzcuaro on the road to Zamora).

Ocumicho Clay Concurso, Held rain or shine
Organized and judged by: Casa de las Artesanias* (de Michoacan de Ocampo)

Entries and winning pieces will be displayed and for sale anytime between 1pm and 2:30pm in the covered kiosko on the main plaza depending on the number of entries and how the judging goes. Dallying past 2:30pm to unveil the winners is unlikely. The judges will be hungry for their hard-earned bowl of homemade churipo!

Throughout the day on the 29th...

-Dressing of the saints, Pedro and Pablo
-Decoration of the "Hospital" (community gathering place) and the main church with flowers and locally made ornate wax candles
-Mass
-Procession of San Pedro and San Pablo
-Dances of Veneration
-Food offerings (mounds of fruit and stunning bread wreaths) to San Pedro and San Pablo
-Announcement and recognition of concurso winners (juried show of clay sculptures)
-Particularly touching are the announcement of concurso awards for emerging children and teenage artisans (the pride in those young faces moves me to tears)
-The mercado selling everything from DVDs to toys, and lots of clay folk art for which Ocumicho is famous.


June 30th
More processions and celebrations, but the folk art concurso is only held on the 29th.

*For additional information regarding the concurso, contact:

Casa de las Artesanias de Michoacan de Ocampo
Fray Juan de San Miguel No. 129
Centro, Morelia, cp 58000
MEXICO
Tel: 443-312-1248

Consider taking with you:
-An umbrella for protection from sun and rain.
-Sunblock.
-Hat.
-A picnic lunch...tender tummies need to beware in Ocumicho.
-Portable seating to give your dogs a rest.

Parting thought...The devilish, humorous, and whimsical folk art of Ocumicho is undoubtebly my favorite of all Mexican folk art.

THE TOP TWO PHOTOS ARE OF ORNATE, EMBROIDERED DRESSING CAPES USED DURING THE FIESTA OF SAN PEDRO AND SAN PABLO IN OCUMICHO.

THE BOTTOM PHOTO IS OF A PRIZE-WINNING ENTRY IN THE 2007 CONCURSO IN OCUMICHO.

Cooling Waters

The pause that refreshes in Michoacan.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art is a wellspring of creativity.

The Unexpected

It has been two weeks since putting my virtual book on a virtual shelf, and looking back I now realize how unlikely...how unexpected...my SoFoBoMo book's very existence is.

Like many registrants, I finalized shoot locations around town in late April with a clear plan (or two) in mind, coupled with the intent of starting my "fuzzy month" on or about May 15. This is what happened instead.

One morning I grabbed my camera as mom trimmed her wyly wysteria. Barely topping five feet, she used the hooked handle of an umbrella to reign in errant tendrils while simultaneously trimming leaves and expounding outloud about the characteristics of wysteria. Beneath mom grew a deepening cushion of foliage that appeared it could catch her if she fell. It was an amazing scene and I just kept shooting. The date? May 4.

Meanwhile, I continued planning my SoFoBoMo book-about-town, but now something (or someone) was blocking my view. Somewhere deep down I knew I had "accidentally" started my book, but still I was in denial.

Another week passed and I couldn't get those wysteria-trimming images of my mother out of my head. No longer did mom's jokes of, "Make the book about me", sound silly. And then another unexpected thing happened.

Day after day the rains poured down and it became evident that unless I focused on a subject within my immediate sphere...literally within this house...that there might not be a book at all. We began pulling kimonos, obis, art and objects from cedar-lined drawers and cabinets and kept shooting. And when the rains paused, we rushed outside for more shots only to be driven back inside by even more rain. And from these unexpected circumstances, a book began to take shape.

Meanwhile as I prepared for the SoFoBoMo back in March, I had started blogging about my Mama-san. She says the funniest things, and the blog served as an antidote to the stresses of finding myself unexpectedly living under my parent's roof once again. And still, I did not see the book before me until well into May.

And I had also started Twittering. Suddenly photo captions came streaming to me in roughly 140 characters or less, and I realized that my mother had been speaking in Tweets my entire life. Would I have trimmed my mother's proverbs so succinctly had I not started Twittering? I don't know.

Other unexpected surprises still lay in wait. I had composed my entire book as pdf single pages (versus a 2 up lay-out) expecting to present all on Issuu, and so my book would not look right on the SoFoBoMo site without a world of work, but I let that go and it's OK. But still the biggest surprise was yet to come.

After "publication", I began to receive comments about how the book had touched so many people. Had brought them to tears. The fact that my book appealed to anyone outside my immediate family was completely wonderful and unexpected.

So you see, despite careful planning and preconceived notions of what my SoFoBoMo book would be, a series of unexpected events guided me in a completely different direction.

Between registration and publication, I have learned so much. But the biggest lesson learned from SoFoBoMo '09? Learn to embrace the unexpected, and it will be OK.

As Woody Allen famously said, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans".

Today! Dia de los Locos in San Miguel de Allende

As all of San Miguel de Allende prepares to go LOCO...

Some ZOCALO de Mexican Folk Art blog posts are worth repeating...

Once again, here is the Essential Guide to Viewing Dia de los Locos in San Miguel de Allende.

ENJOY and go LOCO!

Parting thought...Mexican folk art can be LOCO!

ALL PHOTOS BY DEB HALL.

The Book, My Book

The book is done. I'm turning the loco box off now and joining friends for champagne. Take a look, and click "fullscreen" for a better view.

Here's my book...The Book: MAMA-SAN SAY...

And see other completed-to-date SoFoBoMo books here. Congratulations everyone.

NOTE: Keep checking in. Books by possibly 700+ participants will be added daily until June 30.

High Visuals, (Very) Low Tech, and Even Lower Quality

I am a pdf book virgin. No, I am a pdf virgin, period.

A couple of months ago when my education about pdf photo presentations began, I did a wise thing (sometimes that accidentally happens). I mimicked what my friend was doing, used the minimal software she was using, and together, we solved problems and fixed snafus. But early in the project I took a hard left where she went right. And now I'm on my own.

I got it into my head that I didn't want any borders. Full bleed, two-page spreads or nothing. This being a grand experiment, why not try?

Next, figuring out how to accomplish full bleeds using existing forms (paper sizes) in Cute Writer and Cute PDF Pro was a challenge. Expletives deleted. I rarely crop anything, so letter size proportionately would not do (I don't want borders!). But I found something that worked.

Then I decided to post 99% of the book at 72 dpi. Fewer pixels than shot by today's cell phones. As I read through the comments of the wise and experienced, I am horrified. What have I done?

Ed Richards recommends 1600X1200 settling in at 500-900k per image. The best size, after compression, to avoid distortion and artifacts.

Paul Butzi writes (see comments below his post) that he is working at 1600X1200, later to become 1280X1024, and later 2560X1600, but reminds that we are missing the point. Regarding pdf photo appearance, there are so many factors involved, size being just one. But the glowing luminescence of his photos of theaters, is well, simply breathtaking. Something to which I aspire. At 72 or 300 dpi, this quality is not present in my own work.

Then Martin Doonan is drilling down into every aspect of which size and setting may yield the best pdf photo, and I am grateful for this painstaking investigation and intend to apply all learned. Next year. But Martin begins by stating that a typical 10MG original (that's me) going down to 1200X800 throws away 90% of the original pixels. Uh oh. That's also me.

I hope you enjoy the 10% or less of what remains of my photos...of my book.

Post Script: Paul Butzi goes on to say (and I love him for this)...

"Part of the challenge of SoFoBoMo is coping with the challenges this presents. It’s a PDF book. It’s a PDF book made in a month. Take a breath. Make a decision. It might be right, or it might be wrong. No matter what, you will learn something, and it will be ok."

There will be artifacts. There will be distortion. It's 72 dpi. It will be OK.

Post Post Script: I'm saving all those pixels and hours of fine art processing for the printed version. This is a pdf. Pretty Darn Fuzzy.

And still, my is book big ass. 29.6MGs. I really should learn about pdf compression. Next year.

Less Is Just That (But I Want More)

I have some bad habits. Well, I have a lot of bad habits but we are just going to talk about one this morning.

When it comes to photography, I don't take a lot of photographs.

A hold-over from the days when we shot with real film this is not. In fact, I shot more photos then. With my digital camera and gigs of memory, I can shoot hundreds...no thousands...of photos, but I am not that girl. All those hours spent at dances, fiestas, Day of the Dead, and with countless artisans? Barely a hundred shots per outing.

I'm discovering that it has everything to do with managing mountains of data. Looking at image after image of roughly the same thing overwhelms me. And frankly, it bores me. I choose my shot, shoot ten, select one that's worthy (or not), process and move on. And at the end of the day, I don't have many photos. Even after 2 1/2 years on Flickr, I've posted a mere 212 photos (and there are easily 20 that I could remove in a heartbeat).

I have tried to break this tendency towards less with the making of this book. Being spare does not serve me or my projects well. And yet, for the SoFoBoMo book project, I've taken roughly 550 photos. That's it. Most photographers reach this number in an afternoon.

So while I did not freely depress the shutter with abandon over the last month as intended, for me, 550 photos is a lot. A personal mini-breakthrough. I'm working on it.

Post Script: Followers of this blog have surely noticed a lack of photos lately. All my photo energy is in the book. No peeking. I have a final draft now and per SoFoBoMo guidelines, must post before June 2nd, but I'm thinking we can have a look sometime this weekend.

Purple and Battered

Sounds like an eggplant recipe, but this is not about that.

While inspecting my aging body, I've discovered that I'm quite bruised. A tree branch thwack to the arm. An unnoticed stone pressed against the knee. A protruding post-to-thigh collision while chasing ever-fading light.

I am a physical photographer. Belly to the ground. Eye-level with a miniscule violet bloom. Or up a stone wall leaning over murky water. Better to see the swirling koi without casting a shadow. Falling down daily.

National Geographic up-in-the-tree-canopy-dangling-stuff this is not. Thank God. I'd be dead (or at least severely mamed).

I am a physical photographer, or in other words, clumsily lost in the moment.

Note: Stumbling around in this aware-of-nothing-else zone is bliss.

The Book Sandwich

The assignment sounds easy enough. Make a book in 30 days. But then there's life.

I work away in the wee hours of the morning, returning late at night to continue on. And thankfully, I was able to make some major headway over the rain-soaked holiday weekend.

But on the priority ladder, projects that pay must take precedence...the daily task of piecing a living together. And #1 Son needs urgent "mom admin" assistance, he unable to do the simplest things from Afghanistan. And helping my dad is increasing and ongoing. The top priority. He is literally crumpling before our eyes.

So the book is there, but over there.

Last night I took a jab for working on the book. Deserved. The book is non-paying and time consuming, but sandwiched in-between work and caring for loved ones. But isn't that how art happens?

I am reminded that as with any book, there will be critics. Now I'm going in to check on dad.

The Devil

This has been such a strange and wonderful journey. Making a book. Starting from nothing on day one, and having created something, hopefully by day 30.

I have always admired a well-crafted book. Noticing every detail. And yet as I put my own puzzle of a book together, I realize these details were always safely in someone else's hands.

The fonts, the colors, the graphics. These are the fun and obvious parts (and blogging and designing web sites has helped me tremendously here). But how exactly do I word the copyright (there are more choices than one might think)? What about those very first pages. Something visually bold urging page turning, or elegant and sedate? And how much do I wish to reveal in an About This Book preface sort of way? And then there's About the Photographer. Witty or straight forward. No. Witty and straight forward is better. And can I really "author" a photography book without including MY own photograph? Groan.

I am deep into the details. Overthinking it all. And here is where the devil resides. It's human nature I think to become blissfully distracted with lesser matters while ignoring the 800-pound gorilla. Is my photography any good?

But that's OK. Lest I forget, this book will be judged by its cover.

You can look at the details selected by the 2008 SoFoBoMo photographers. You know I have. Again and again and again.

Self Doubt

My idea was to shoot in a low light, hand held, grainy photo documentary style.

As I work through my images, it just looks like bad photography.

Notes (Confessions): If this was not SoFoBoMo, I would STOP. Reshoot many of the images. Probably even scrap the whole book concept all together.

The perfect book of my dreams would remain just that. A dream.

Because this is SoFoBoMo with strict time constraints, I have no choice but to forge on with what I've got. And that's the beauty and agony of SoFoBoMo.

Lastly, "grainy-photo-documentary-style" is artspeak for my noisy, blurry photos.

The Virtual Book

Reality.

At the end of SoFoBoMo, there will be no touch it, hold it, caress it book for me. There will only be a virtual book.

This is all I can do.

Isla de las Munecas, Cuatro

Another glimpse of Isla de las Munecas, Mexico City.

You will have to excuse a few of us bloggers for not posting and being otherwise occupied. We are waist deep (if not neck deep) in SoFoBoMo...Solo Foto Book Month.

Wish us luck.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art is unexpected.

Isla de las Munecas, Tres

Another glimpse. Isla de las Munecas, Mexico City.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art can sometimes break your heart.

PHOTO BY DEB HALL.

Isla de las Munecas, Dos

Another glimpse. Isla de las Munecas, Mexico City.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art can honor the dead.

PHOTO BY DEB HALL.

A Return to the Fabulous in Mexico City: Isla de las Munecas, Uno

For me personally, there will not be much blogging going on for the next month or so. I am one of 588 photographers worldwide participating in SoFoBoMo (Solo Foto Book Month), and give or take, May 1 marked the beginning of this creative and technical journey. Wish me luck because as I understand it (not sure of the exact statistics), fewer than 50% made it to the finish line last year (the project's first year). It's fast, it's guerilla photography and book-making, and it's hard. I have done my due dilligence and all that's left is to take 35 photos in (far) fewer than 30 days that are book worthy (depending on which blogs you read, you already knew that).

But the real point of this post is...

As Mexico slowly returns to some semblance of normalcy this Cinco de Mayo, I remind you of a wonder too fabulous to miss in DF: Isla de las Munecas.

What began as one doll affixed to a tree for protection against a drowned girl's haunted spirit, now more than 50 years later, Julian Santana's eerie and impressive doll shrine encompasses an entire island--albeit tiny---and continues under the watchful guardianship of Santana's nephew (following Julian's death). The "Isla de las Munecas" is located south of Mexico City deep in the ancient canals of Xochimilco.

True folk art? Yes. Only in Mexico City? Definitely!

UPDATE: As of May 30, 707 photographers are now registered for SoFoBoMo.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art whispers to children.

PHOTO: ISLA DE LAS MUNECAS SERIES BY DEB HALL.

(Almost) Speechless

My brain has flatlined. With recent unfolding events, I don't know what to say so I'm letting others do the talking.

From Rachel Lauden, A Historian's Take on Food and Food Politics (thanks Billie for introducing me to Rachel's blog): Flu and the Mexican Rural Community and Swine Flu Guanajuato Update.

From Billieblog: Wash Your Hands and Isolation.

From Mexico City, An Opinionated Guide: Strange Times in Mexico City.

From David Lida, Mostly Mexico: Who Was That Masked Man? and My Two Cents which links to Lida's Op Ed piece that appeared in the New York Times, April 30 (The Smile Behind the Mask).

And finally we arrive at Burro Hall, where unable to link to individual posts, you have to move fast to catch Please Remain Terrified, Everybody Panic!, Now Existing Cases of Swine Flu in Queretaro Approaching Triple Digits, and the latest, Bull Flu. Such a talent for headlines Sr. Burro Hall has.

It's official. A symptom of Swine Flu is writer's block brought on by a bone-aching sadness for Mexico. Hard to believe that this global reality shift is (only) one week old today.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art is a hard, hard life.

THIS PHOTO WAS NOT HASTILY TAKEN DUE TO THE ON-SET OF SWINE FLU. I TOOK THIS LAST SUMMER AT GUADALUPE'S IN LOS RICOS BECAUSE I ADORE PIGS (AND LOVE EATING ALL THINGS PORK, TOO). BILLIE, THIS SQUARE'S FOR YOU AND WAS SHOT ON ONE OF OUR SUMMER "ADVENTURE DAYS".

Protection

In the autumn, I asked a great shaman for protection. A talisman made from paper of bark. Folded. Cut. Prayered over. The devil had been put to bed for my coming year.

Today, I return this symbol of protection to Mexico...and the world.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art heals.

PHOTO BY DEB HALL.

Hug A Tree Today

Today is National Arbor Day in the US. In the context of Mexico, I think of hundreds of villagers making amate paper from tree bark. The jonote, the mulberry, and the xalama limon...each imbuing the richly textured paper with subtle and differing colors. Above, the children of San Pablito, Puebla honor their sacred trees with the Dance of the Amate. Here, trees are loved and the source of an entire region's identity as embodied in ancient paper-making traditions.

NOTE: Dia del Arbol is celebrated in Mexico in July.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art grows tradition.

PHOTO BY DEB HALL.

Taking Our Sons and Daughters to Work

It's an admirable concept in the United States. Taking our sons and daughters to work for one day so they can understand where we go and what we do for those many hours, days and years. But in the Mexico that I know, work is not such a mystery. Work is a family affair...taught, shared and accomplished with the help of many hands.

This occasion reminded me of being contacted by major US retailers wanting to incorporate indigenous folk art into their stores produced under the guidelines of Fair Trade. A good thing, no?

One of the blanket stipulations was that no child under the age of 15 be present in the work environment. At this, I had to smile. In an artisan's workshop, children are everywhere learning their family's craft...absorbing their heritage...at the knee of their papi and under the skirts of their mamacitas. Not child labor but child inclusion, between homework and lessons, before and after school. This is Mexico's way if folk art traditions are to survive beyond the next generation.

Parting thoughts...Mexican folk art is life.

PHOTO BY DEB HALL.

Dia de la Tierra

Living in central Mexico, I am often times reminded of my childhood in rural Missouri. We lived on a farm east of town. A convenient dumping ground for puppy litters, ancient washing machines, rusted out cars and all manner of debris. Life's discards. And that was normal.

On Sundays after church and a big dinner with extended family (Sunday lunch was called dinner), we enjoyed leisurely drives venturing further into the Missouri countryside, drives to nowhere in my child's mind, that were good for the digestion I was told. A gallon of gas cost 31 cents then.

Whirring past my framed window view ("Debra Holly, get your hands inside this car!") was a constant stream of road kill, mountainous car graveyards, smoldering trash, miles of billboards, and a chaos of signs---many hand and homemade---tacked on every available fence post and phone pole. And there were also wild flowers, brooks and rivers, deciduous forests in their seasonal state, and hills impressive enough to be called mountains.

And then my view began to change, and I remember it well. Adults were overheard grumbling about the moving of junk yards and taking down billboards, and the needless trouble and expense with all of the problems in the world. Our elementary news source, the Weekly Reader, began to regularly urge us to "Beautify America" and to "Don't be a litterbug!". And upon our malleable young minds it stuck. For life.

What Mexico didn't have then or now was their own version of Lady Bird Johnson coupled with the solid steel political huevos of President Lyndon B. Johnson. In 1965 Mrs. Johnson opened the first White House Conference on Natural Beauty by remarking that "surely a civilization that can send a man to the moon can also find ways to maintain a clean and pleasant Earth." Together they championed the successful and difficult passing of the Highway Beautification Act of 1965 for which certainly I am eternally grateful.

So to my children I write, before Senator Gaylord Nelson, Al Gore, Sting and Sir Paul, there was the vision of Lady Bird Johnson and the get-it-done clout of President Lyndon Baines Johnson. And in a remarkably short span of time, your mom and most of America went from being gum wrapper tossing kids to citizens that would leave only footprints in the world. Happy Dia de la Tierra.

NOTE: And to those who associate Don't Mess With Texas with concealed weapons and a cowboy attitude, you have it all wrong.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art can embody the universe.

PHOTO BY NASA http://www.nasa.gov/multimedia/imagegallery/index.html.

Dog Days

The heat blasts across Mexico like Satan's breath. A dusty rasp begging to be quenched. But soon the rains. Soon.

NOTE: I've often thought of April and May as being San Miguel de Allende's "summer", these months being the hottest and dryest. The upside is that one truly feels that you have town to yourself when visiting just following Easter and before summer tourists descend.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art can be the stuff of earth.

PHOTO BY DEB HALL.

Happy Feet

While many seem to be dancing obsessed (albeit vicariously) these days, can there be any doubt that these toes are itching to dance? In Mexico, if you don't grab a partner and shake a leg, you are (a) a gringo, (b) damn well missing out, or (c) BOTH. In Mexico and in life, dancing is simply not optional.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art can make you dance.

PHOTO BY DEB HALL.

Easter Lingers

The smoke from many wood burning fires hangs in the air and burns the eyes. The earthy taste of special wheat tamales is the reward. In Patzcuaro's Plaza San Francisco, Easter lingers as industrious tamale makers create the tamals-of-the-season through this week.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art can be eaten.

PHOTO BY DEB HALL.

The Global Tax Game

Today I couldn't help but recall last month's news that beginning on March 18, Mexico will levy higher tarriffs on 89 specific goods entering Mexico from the US including toilet paper (we want that), sunflowers seeds, soy sauce, pencils, and beer (US beer?...who cares). It's a tit-for-tat tax tactic leveled after the US reneged on allowing a limited number of Mexican (semi) trucks to travel beyond the border zone as agreed under NAFTA.

But not to be outdone in the global tax shoving game, in retaliation of the European Union's long-standing ban against US hormone-treated beef, on April 23 the United States is poised to enact a 300% tarriff on the singular and heavenly Roquefort cheese of France.

As I see it...

1) Why wouldn't Europeans want to eat hormone treated beef that is good enough for the US public?
2) And couldn't they pick a cheese that I didn't love so much (although I can't think of a one...especially from Europe).
3) And I would say that Mexico learned how to wield the big tax stick from the best.

And if this ridiculous nation-sparring doesn't have you miffed if not mad, this might do it. For those living outside of the US (not vacationing on April 15, but actually LIVING outside of the US), we don't file until June. Happy Tax Day. Tea anyone?

Parting thought...Mexican folk art is duty free.

A Whopper of An Insult?

Here's international breaking news that does not involve murder, mayhem or pirates. Read Mark Stevenson's report, but surely at first glance you have aleady discerned why Mexico's ambassador to Spain has asked BK corporate for the ad's removal. And if you see nothing wrong with this ad, leave Mexico now. Everybody knows that ponchos are SO last year.

Parting thought...Mexican folk art can be ironic.