In the wild, there is no healthcare. In the wild healthcare is 'Ow, I hurt my leg. I can't run. A lion eats me, and I'm dead.'

They have gun control in Cuba. They have universal healthcare in Cuba. So why do they want to come here? – Paul Harvey

At various times I have spouted off rants about one thing or another on this blog. You have my apologies if I have caused offense, but brace yourself for another harangue. I also apologize as this has little to do with Jamaica. Erin and I watched Barack and Hillary debate last night and made pumpkin pie. The pumpkin pie really hit the spot but the debate has me worried.

For those of you unfamiliar with my political leanings, I consider myself an independent with fairly libertarian interpretations of most issues. In short I think the government should have as little impact on my life as possible. It is my belief that the intentions of the founding fathers was to erect a minimal government that only served to protect the individual citizens when their rights are infringed upon.

There are many things that are great in theory. The most striking one that comes to mind is communism and having dabbled in the works of Marx, Engels, et al. the idea itself is reasonable. However in practice, historically, it has failed to live up to its utopian aspirations. Back to last night's debate... One of the key issues the candidates sparred over was universal healthcare. Up until last night around 9:15 I thought universal healthcare was a great idea. Like I said, "... many things are good in theory." Upon further reflection and reading details of their plans I am thoroughly freaked out about healthcare of the universal variety. Are they serious about making it mandatory? Charging fines for those not enrolled? What if I cannot afford it? What if (however unlikely it is) I place 15% of my salary into an account for future medical procedures, am I still forced to participate?

Having healthcare is great and I think it should be a feasible venture for anybody interested. BUT, the thought of the government forcing me to participate in anything severely rubs me the wrong way. To me, it seems mandates such as the ones planned by both candidates about universal healthcare, are actions that begin a descent down a slippery slope.

I have pointed out an issue that is predominately from the democratic party, but neither party is currently sympathetic to libertarian viewpoints (save Republican Ron Paul, though his candidacy is very, very unlikely).

I lieu of a sign off, here are some quotes from people more intelligent than me concerning their libertarian ideals...Patrick

-They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety. – Benjamin Franklin

-One of the greatest delusions in the world is the hope that the evils in this world are to be cured by legislation. – Thomas B. Reed

-No man's life, liberty, or property are safe while the legislature is in session. – Mark Twain

-There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible to live without breaking laws. – Ayn Rand

-To compel a man to furnish contributions of money for the propagation of opinions which he disbelieves and abhors, is sinful and tyrannical. – Thomas Jefferson

-I believe that every individual is naturally entitled to do as he pleases with himself and the fruits of his labor, so far as it in no way interferes with any other men's rights. – Abraham Lincoln

-The only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not sufficient warrant. – John Stuart Mill

Trash talk is all hypothetical like, your momma's so fat she could eat the internet.

If by "your momma's" you really mean "Patrick's," and by "fat" you mean "hungry," and by "internet" you mean "pizza that Erin and I from scratch that is muy delicioso," then the title of this entry is about me waiting on dinner tonight. We made a pretty fabulous pizza crust using beer. It is far cry from Pizza Factory quality but not too shabby.

I wrote the following blog Saturday. After rigorous discussion, Erin and I felt as though we should wait a day or two before posting. We don't want to condition our readers to new material as often as we have been posting in case one or the both of us develop a 47 day writer's block. Anyway pretend it is last Saturday and read on...

I just returned from a downtown odyssey, which was a very bizarre experience indeed. My taxi ride downtown was pretty routine except that rather than taking ‘top road’ which is faster, the driver opted to take his passengers the scenic route through the Hip Strip. His reasoning for doing so was that it is tourist season and he wanted to see white girls. He was rewarded for his efforts and proceeded to wolf-whistle and hiss at every girl on the road.

I arrived at my destination in one piece. As I walked through the gauntlet of St. James Street—the main thoroughfare through downtown MoBay—I bumped fists with no fewer than 5 bums. I believe this is a new PR for bum fist bumping in one day, which is always cool despite an incredible urge to wash one’s hands.

Fast-forward to the grocery store. I think that Jamaican grocery stores may have finally one-upped American grocery stores in one feature, free samples. I have not been away long enough to forget that heading out to Sam’s Club/Costco on a late Saturday morning will leave you full until dinner. However, American samples can’t begin to compete with Jamaican samples, mainly because they always involve alcohol. Last week while visiting Ryan in May Pen, we were offered free beer samples and a free beer stein if we purchased a 6-er. Cha-ching! I’ll take two! Today at the store they were comparing hard liquor. I tested Bailey’s versus a local Irish Cream and good ole’ Jack Daniels versus a cheap whiskey. My day was made because 1) having a non-Red Stripe or rum based drink felt pretty damn good and 2) I also was able to find yeast so that Erin and I can make pizza dough later.

Traveling by public transport in Jamaica is a ‘trip’ (pun intended) that must be experienced by all visitors. I personally have a love-to-bitch-about-it relationship with Jamaican public transport. There is bound to be some strange and bizarre twist every time you venture out. Case in point… On my return trip a very dapper man approaches me and asks if I am going to Rosehall/Lilliput. I assumed he was the driver trying to drum up business, but soon realized that he was a loader. Loaders tend to be disheveled in appearance bordering on bum-ish, very pushy, and generally ask you and/or the driver for a tip. Okay so never judge a book by its cover… lesson learned. But, my astonishment was further extended when one of dirtiest dudes I have ever seen hops into the drivers seat. I am amazed because his taxi is fairly new (a rarity in itself) and pristine in condition. How could a man as dirty as this one keep his taxi as clean as it is? Never judge a book by its cover… lesson re-learned.

Maybe I did not notice the smell of the man/taxi because I, only a half hour before, enjoyed cocktails from the grocery store. Or maybe my beak missed out as a result of the extreme breeze that occurs when barreling down the road at mach 3. Whatever the reason, I definitely failed to detect the extreme odiferous-ness of the taxi/driver until we were stopped due to road construction AND forced to roll up the windows due to dust. Holy balls Batman! I nearly blew chunks from the over-powering pong. The driver, being soiled to the extreme, was obviously the only culprit right? Wrong. As he opened his center console, he had a pile of rotting garlic, just sitting there! WTF!? What possible reason for having rotting garlic in the center console could there be? I hope he just forgot about it because he lacks a sense of smell. Thankfully we resumed driving and I was able to roll down my window and hang my head out doggy style.

Today I was reminded that you should never judge a book by its cover. However, judging it by its stench is perfectly acceptable… as is choosing a new book if the one you have smells like crap or rotting garlic.

And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street… Patricio

So, the deal was, Dwight doesn't blow anything up and I wear a costume. And a mustache.

“Happy Friday!” Erin cheerfully announces while checking on what would be a delicious (surprisingly for those of your who are familiar with Erin’s culinary exploits) dinner in the oven. This makes me feel better as Jamaica was doing a pretty good job of beating me down today. The realization that bad people are everywhere (I mean worldwide not just in Jamaica) sometimes depresses me. What the hell folks?! That piece of crap in Illinois who swiss-cheesed his former fellow students before doing himself is beyond my scope of understanding. Feel free to help out natural selection and remove yourself from the gene pool but leave everybody else alone, tool shed. For what reason would someone possibly have to shoot up his ex-classmates at school? Or for that matter another person in a busy section of downtown MoBay? I am lost on their reasoning, maybe my pragmatism is getting in the way of identifying with bloodlust-ing creepers. “This-ism, that-ism, ism ism ism
 All (I am) saying is give peace a chance!” Thanks Mr. Lennon… I completely agree.

Give peace a chance indeed.

So Erin and I attended a little ceremony at our orphanage today. The local Ritz-Carlton Hotel was sponsoring one of our houses and they had a ceremonial ribbon cutting. Erin has never shied away from detailing her situational social awkwardness but I have never lumped myself in with her in that regard. After many evenings spent rubbing elbows with Kansas City “elite” (aka folks that are richer than god) while volunteering at Leukemia and Lymphoma Society fundraisers, I felt as if I could schmooze with anyone. After 8 months in Jamaica my ability to connect with strangers in social situations has completely disappeared. I am not saying this to whine… but as a statement of fact. I used to be able to sell ketchup popsicles to ladies in white gloves and now I babbled on for 4 minutes about the fact the Jamaica is hot. No sh*t Sherlock! I hope this social deficiency is a temporary fault. I attribute this to the bulk of my daily interactions being with people under the age 10 and the occasional crazy-ass bum. So a plea to all, when I come home in March, please be patient as I adjust to proper conversational etiquette.

In the vain assumption that new volunteers are currently or may soon read our blog (I have proof of at least one… thanks for reading and commenting Jesse), Erin and I will post commentary useful to Peace Corps newbs in upcoming blogs. This may be entertaining as it will inevitably show how ill prepared we were at times and maybe give non-PC recruits additional insight into what is required for daily life here. On the plus side, even if it fails to provide useful info or insight, it might provide respite to those of you weary of my eccentric soliloquies.

As American as Apple Pie… Patrick

p.s. Jesse~ You are more than welcome to link our blog. We are glad you got some enjoyment out of it. If you, or your husband, have additional questions/concerns/impatient ramblings about Peace Corps feel free to email. pbmazi@gmail.com

You lookin' for dinner and a movie? Cause you're not gonna find it in that box.

I feel that, as of late, both Patrick and I have displayed our vanity by rambling on about our thoughts and what you can buy us when we come home. I’ve decided to tell you a bit about what is going on here, and then I’ll indulge my narcissistic tendencies. Today, Patrick got punched in the balls by a five-year-old. He rallied himself and was able to teach 3 classes of kindergarteners Spanish. I think we should all give him a proverbial pat on the back for bravery. I don’t have balls, but I bet it is difficult to walk into a room full of potential ball-injurers after such a traumatic encounter. I may have contracted ring worm…on my eye. Gross, right? Before you condemn me for being dirty, I want to remind everyone that I fight OCD tendencies and wash my hands often. However, I do high five a lot of bums and frequently hold the sweaty hands of small children. So maybe I picked something up there. Who knows?

I’m trying a new thing. Apparently other people use paragraphs. I’m just too random to organize my thoughts, but I’m going to make an effort. I realize that many of you may be shocked by an omission from my visit-to-KC-to-do-list. Usually, both before and after any prolonged absence, I visit Pizza Factory. And I must say, I do miss me some country dressing and I will forever find all other pizzas lacking. However, I do not ‘do’ change. A visit to the Factory without helping Lindy finish the crossword just rings hollow. So there’s nothing I want more than a visit, in fact it would probably be the first place I went, I just want everything to be as I left it—which is impossible because it is now owned by strangers. Basically, all I’m asking is that the whole Evans family shows up for a couple of hours and arrange themselves as if they never left. Not too much to ask, is it? Okay, maybe it is.

Alright, who decided a poodle should look like that? This is not as irrelevant as it seems, we are (kind of) watching the Westminster Dog Show. We’ve been able to see most of the contestants despite the finicky-ness of the channel. This is one of Patrick’s favorite annual events. He was almost as excited about this as he was about the Super Bowl. But seriously, I like the little hair beret the poodle sports, but what is with the little poofs on their hips? Who first thought to do that to a dog? It can’t grow in like that, can it? The beagle just won. It was an extremely adorable beagle, it’s trying to eat the prize ribbon. Patrick wishes me to include that he called it. Congrats, Uno. I bet you wish your owner would quit touching your butt.

I'm petrified of nipple chafing. Once it starts, it's a vicious circle.

Erin and I have spent the morning cleaning our pad and running to the grocery store. It fails to amaze me the randomization that occurs when stocking Jamaican grocery stores. It is utterly unfeasible to plan to make any recipe because without fail the grocery will not have one or more ingredients. I should be used to this by now… my life is one America’s Next Top Chef task after another, at least when it comes to my culinary endeavors. I believe that meal planning in Jamaica would be daunting for even a highly trained chef. It is not that we are trying to make exotic, Emeril BAM! recipes like a turducken stuffed Amazon river bass in a Sri Lankan cinnamon white wine reduction garnished with rare Peruvian orchids. We sometimes go weeks without mainstay components like milk, sugar, garlic, eggs, etc. This not to mention the price of most produce has risen three fold since our arrival on island (with no raise in our living allowances). Needless to say recipe development is sketchy at best and sometimes we must get creative. What is the maxim I’m looking for…? Oh… Necessity is the mother of invention. I get that, but it doesn’t reduce my desire to hit up a Whole Foods upon my visit to the states in March. Along that line and at the request of my mother, here is a rough list of the things E and I wish to do while we are home. We realize that we have a lot on our list and if everything doesn’t happen we won’t be in the least bit hurt.

Where/what we would like to eat
-Granite City
-Steak ‘n’ Shake
-Margaritas (Bob-dre is in, any other Taco Tuesday takers?)
-La Bodega (I think Sam and Matt call this one)
-Stroud’s
- Ixtapa
-Sheridan’s mmmmm
-chocolate bag
-ice cream ice cream ice cream
-nice fruit
-ribs and German tater salad (G-ma Mean and Uncle Squirrel make the best ☺)
-flourless chocolate torte (P is going to make these last things, he just needs people to enjoy them)
-chili
-stuffed mushrooms

Also we need to stock up on some things like socks and olive oil. So if anyone is down with a Target/Costco trip we’ll be making a couple of those as well.

We’d love a trip to the bookstore, and some good coffee.

We’re going to need to enjoy lots of good beer, preferably while watching basketball. I dunno if anyone is down with helping us do that…

With everything, the more the merrier. If you are super excited about any of the above let us know via phone, email, or blog comment. We are also open to any additional ideas.

Good Night and Good Luck!
Patrick with input from Erin

p.s. Why does Snoop Dogg always carry an umbrella? Fo’ Drizzle
p.p.s. Great news! No longer do I feel the need to beg for blog comments. Leave one, don’t leave one, I could not care less. I (we) still enjoy your input but the new feedjit widget lets me know our blog at least gets some traffic… big brother style. The fact that a couple people are reading is all I wanted to know anyway. Plus I like the flags.

Who are the twins? Um, to be delicate, they hang off milady's chest. They make milk.

Happy Mardi Gras! A nice quasi-religious holiday of over-indulgence (king cake, booze, boobs, beads, boobs, boobs, New Orleans) that, this year, coincides with ‘Super Tuesday.’ The Super Tuesday political storm has steamrolled over every media outlet and in my opinion has led to a severe over-saturation of the candidates, the ‘issues’ and even the political process itself. I credit the argument that as Americans we should want as much information about the candidates as possible in order to make the most informed decision come ballot day. However this line of reasoning comes with certain ingrained fallacies… that the general public will absorb and use the abundance of information and that the information provided on the most accessible outlets are accurate and unbiased.

The journalistic media is shaded to the wills of media corporations and tycoons, Rupert Murdoch, et. al., and largely by the reporters themselves in whatever shtick they operate. The saving grace is that there is enough exposure leaning one way to counterbalance exposure to the other. There is no getting around biased opinions of the journalist, and I am not sure the general public is savvy/motivated/intelligent enough to sort through to the facts regarding the candidates. It blows my mind that American politics has fallen to those with enough money to pay for the best advertising. Do we really want the same marketing process that sways which fast food we raise our cholesterol with to help sway our vote of the next commander-in-chief? I have reconsidered the electoral process in recent days after watching CNN, FOXNews, MSNBC, and others interview street people to get their opinions of national political happenings. I assume news stations interview at least a couple people and choose the best ones to air (Jen, you can correct me if I am wrong). This scares me because so far I have seen 5 super ignorant people vomit misinformation for every one halfway competent response. I realize the inequity associated with the electoral college, but it comforts me a bit knowing uninformed clowns don’t have a direct say, technically speaking, in the outcome of an election. Not that leaving it up to our currently elected officials is any better. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Anyway I just felt like voicing my extreme displeasure with the stupidity of recent interviewees and my wish to karate chop their minds. Also this continues my streak of discussing things a well-mannered individual never discusses in a public forum. Last week religion, now politics, maybe next week’s fodder should be economics.
Today was my first day teaching Spanish. Surprisingly I think my time spent teaching ‘head, shoulders, knees, and toes’, “my name is…,” and the color ‘red’ all in Spanish was highly successful. My victory is probably a direct cause of my relating to the kids--which correlates as a reflection of a possible infantile regression and a similar sense of humor. Anyway I was fairly discouraged when I left the classes to go help Erin in the library. I felt like I had little control of the class and despite enthusiastic participation by the kids, they learned nothing. But during our homework sessions a few hours later, one of my little pupils came in and pointed to her head and said “bay-sa,” as in the Spanish word ‘cabeza’ (head). That’s pretty close right?! Anyway that made me feel pretty good and like my day was worthwhile. Celebrate the little things, I guess.

Have a good night all you party people.

---Patricio sana in corpore sano---

p.s. Holy balls what an unbelieveably awesome Super Bowl.
p.p.s. I am glad all of you got such a kick out of the photos of me in earlier times. I am just glad I have proof that my dashingly handsome mug is really my face and not some Dr. 90210 patchwork. That’s right… you can’t make a nose like this.

And the best way to start is to hit... Start. And up comes the toolbar. That's what she said.

As most of you probably know, I suffer from lepidophobia. I know. At times it is nearly debilitating. Like when a bird-sized moth flew into our friend’s house. I tried to hide from it while the boys (who were also freaked out, I might add, with good reason, the thing was a real-life Mothra, its nasty body was the size of a fist) attempted to usher it back into the Jamaican wilderness. Someone finally had the presence of mind to turn off the light, and Mothra went in search of brighter bulbs. I did not sleep all night, thinking that every bug, lizard, and frog bumping into the walls was Mothzilla, returning to exact its revenge on us for swatting at it with hats and dirty t-shirts. This happened months ago and I am still a bit shaken. Anyway, I’ve always been a bit ashamed of my inability to deal with the appearance of grotesque flying worms. Today I was vindicated by SpongeBob. He and Patrick (the starfish, not the lovable human) were terrified when a butterfly got loose in Bikini Bottom. The whole town was thrown into a panic until the Texas squirrel thing came and captured the monster in a jar. I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed watching cartoon characters in an uproar over a “harmless” creature. SpongeBob and I both know that the scaly winged terrors are far from innocuous. If you disagree, then you should google “fear of butterflies.” There you will find long lists of losers who have formed help pages and internet support groups for those of us who keep constant vigilance for moths and butterflies. I must say that this didn’t make me feel as good as the cartoon did. I know I am irrationally afraid of creatures that most people find “pretty,” but I see this as quirky rather than weird. Especially since I embrace slimy scary animals. This makes me more interesting than pathetic like the people I googled, right? I may also be a bit scared of cats, but everyone knows they are spawn of Satan. So they don’t count. Man, Bret Michaels likes the hussies. He definitely sent the prettiest girls home first, and kept the scrappy, wily, streetwalkers. Maybe that is why he is so unlucky in love. I guess you guys are probably more interested in what is going on here in Jamaica rather than in Bret’s love mansion. We were able to watch the Super Bowl. Power only went out twice and then only briefly. However, we did not get most of the commercials. Instead, we got the same three terrible Coors (yuck) Light commercials…in Spanish. They looked lame, but maybe they were hilarious, how would I know? Pretty excited about the Giants winning. Both P and I called it. It was a wonderful end to a lovely day. We may not have had cake, Ma, but I did make Patricio a whole batch of cookies for his very own. Now, 12 hours and half a tub of cream cheese mixed with most of a can of chili later, he is incapacitated on the couch. We did make an excellent dinner including surprisingly delicious Swedish meatballs and mashed potatoes. Funny story, P was in the back seat of a taxi when two other Jamaicans got in and forced him into the middle seat. The driver looked over his shoulder and began laughing hysterically, managing to stammer gleefully, “oreo cookie!” Heehee. I will conclude this decidedly hodge-podge email with yet another abrupt change of subject. So I don’t know if you all have looked at P big sis’s blog, but you should, the kiddos are pretty darn adorable. Apparently, Caroline’s baby brother is a bit of a chunk. Perhaps, but as chunky as his uncle?! You be the judge. (This is Patrick at 3 months, by the way.)


Although let's hope little James Patrick doesn't share Uncle Patrick's awkward stage. What was he wearing?

I'd like to sincerely thank my source for these priceless photos!