Monocle Man On Cubans, Venezuelans, Signs, Single Women I Know, and Shaking Hands

WARNING: First off, anyone wearing a monocle today should be viewed with suspicion. This gentleman, who wishes to remain anonymous as is a blogger's wont, is not the kind of guy you'd invite to a party. If his 1,000 yard stare doesn't quickly put your shindig into an irreversible slide toward downersville, his jaded, dyspeptic personality soon will. So, dear reader, read his words with caution and a mojito, MVB's drink of choice, in hand.

• I find it amusing that the thing that finally pushed the Venezuelans over the edge is when Chavez took away their TV. He's been whittling away at their freedoms, democracy and capitalism for a long time, but until he took away their TV, they basically took it. Now they're marching in the streets. I wonder if they'll cave like Cubans or resist. Only time will tell if they are worthy of living in freedom or if Miami will become another dumping ground for a flotilla and a flytilla of wussy refugees. If the latter happens, it could get pretty crowded on Calle Ocho when both groups start marching at the same time, flaunting their righteous indignation for losing their countries while waving their flags-- none of which resemble the stars and stripes.


• Most of the single women I know are in their mid-thirties-to-early forties. Most of them have adorable accents. One is from Argentina. One is from Brazil. One is from the UK. Two of them are single moms. All of them are hard-working and full of life. They're great contributors to this great country and make living in Miami so special. I love them all. Too bad we make them jump through hoops and break the law to live here. My father was an immigrant, but I don't think he had to go through all of what these worthy women must.


• I'm at an age now that I am constantly looking for signs, something that will tell me that I'm making the right decision, that the woman I'm with is the woman I've always been looking for, that the future will be much better than today. Yesterday, and I'm not making this up, I saw a Buddhist priest walk by my window. I, of course, immediately took this as a sign, that something good might be coming down the pike towards me. He was walking down the street in flowing robes and black socks and shoes. He was smiling. He even looked up towards my window. For some reason I ducked.


• If you ever see me coming, don't shake my hand. It has killed many people. Eric Fleming was my first victim. He was the trail boss on "Raw Hide" with Clint Eastwood back in the mid sixties. I must have been around twelve years old. My dad took me to the Orange Bowl for a rodeo. Fleming was there signing autographs. Years later he quit the show and went to Peru to make a movie and died trying, drowning in a river. I lost the autograph, but not the guilt. Years passed. I found myself working as the Florida Field rep for publicity and promotion for some major Hollywood studios. Jim Henson came to Florida to promote a movie. I shook his hand. He died way too soon. John Candy was up next. Ditto. Although some celebrities have survived, their careers have died. Steven Seagal is the most famous but I have ended the careers of writers, directors, producers, and actors. Except for Renée Zellweger's. She came in to promote "Empire Records". As an unknown, I could hardly get anyone to interview her. I had to stage an autograph signing stunt at a record store in Coconut Grove to get the media interested. I got TV and print coverage, but I had to drag people off the street to line up for autographs. She of course went on to bigger and better things like winning an Oscar for her role in "Cold Mountain." Looking back, I'm not sure if I ever shook her hand.
• Elita Loresca.