Feliz 2006

31 de diciembre de 2005

Siempre son atractivas las cosas por estrenar: una libreta, una pieza de ropa, un disco recién adquirido... y un año no va a ser menos. Ante nosotros se nos presenta una vez más en realidad tan sólo una fracción de tiempo sin fuegos artificiales en el espacio exterior pero con un marcado significado cultural y psicológico de capa de ozono para abajo. Estos ritos no los creamos en vano. Esta celebración nos ayuda a ordenar nuestra vida, a pasar revista, a reciclar pensamientos y a coger nuevas fuerzas y tener al menos la sensación de que se nos presenta una oportunidad para empezar de nuevo... Independientemente de dónde estén todos nuestros nuevos propósitos mañana ya nos habremos nutrido un poquito de la revitalizante y mineralizante medicina psicológica de las primeras horas del nuevo año.

A punto de tomar esta medicina en forma de 12 uvas quiero compartir con ustedes mis mejores deseos para este 2006, que espero nos traiga la sensación de que el mundo puede mejorar. De cada uno de nosotros depende un poquito.

Y sobre todo, quiero transmitir mi mensaje de esperanza a los enfermos, a los apartados del calor de hogar, a los que echan tanto de menos, a los que sufren. A todos los príncipes y princesas destronados les deseo que el 2006 les de fuerzas para construir el nuevo reino que merecen.

Un beso muy fuerte a todos y feliz año.

Im-presionante

28 de diciembre de 2005

Frikadas Navideñas

Feliz Navidad

26 de diciembre de 2005


It was late one fall in Halloweenland,
and the air had quite a chill.
Against the moon a skeleton sat,
alone upon a hill.

He was tall and thin with a bat bow tie;
Jack Skellington was his name.
He was tired and bored in Halloweenland

"I’m sick of the scaring, the terror, the fright.
I’m tired of being something that goes bump in the night.
I’m bored with leering my horrible glances,
And my feet hurt from dancing those skeleton dances.
I don’t like graveyards, and I need something new.

There must be more to life than just yelling,
‘Boo!’"

Then out from a grave, with a curl and a twist,
Came a whimpering, whining, spectral mist.
It was a little ghost dog, with a faint little bark,
And a jack-o’-lantern nose that glowed in the dark.
It was Jack’s dog, Zero, the best friend he had,
But Jack hardly noticed, which made Zero sad.

All that night and through the next day,
Jack wandered and walked.
He was filled with dismay.
Then deep in the forest, just before night,
Jack came upon an amazing sight.
Not twenty feet from the spot where he stood
Were three massive doorways carved in wood.
He stood before them, completely in awe,

His gaze transfixed by one special door.
Entranced and excited, with a slight sense of worry,
Jack opened the door to a white, windy flurry.

Jack didn’t know it, but he’d fallen down
In the middle of a place called Christmas Town!
Immersed in the light, Jack was no longer haunted.
He had finally found the feeling he wanted.
And so that his friends wouldn’t think him a liar,

He took the present filled stockings that hung by the fire.
He took candy and toys that were stacked on the shelves
And a picture of Santa with all of his elves.
He took lights and ornaments and the star from the tree,
And from the Christmas Town sign, he took the big letter C.

He picked up everything that sparkled or glowed.
He even picked up a handful of snow.
He grabbed it all, and without being seen,

He took it all back to Halloween.

Back in Halloween a group of Jack’s peers
Stared in amazement at his Christmas souvenires.
For this wondrous vision none were prepared.
Most were excited, though a few were quite scared!

For the next few days, while it lightninged and thundered,
Jack sat alone and obsessively wondered.
"Why is it they get to spread laughter and cheer

While we stalk the graveyards, spreading panic and fear?
Well, I could be Santa, and I could spread cheer!
Why does he get to do it year after year?"
Outraged by injustice, Jack thought and he thought.
Then he got an idea. "Yes. . .yes. . .why not!"

In Christmas Town, Santa was making some toys
When through the din he heard a soft noise.
He answered the door, and to his surprise,

He saw weird little creatures in strange disguise.
They were altogether ugly and rather petite.
As they opened their sacks, they yelled, "Trick or treat!"
Then a confused Santa was shoved into a sack
And taken to Halloween to see mastermind Jack.

In Halloween everyone gathered once more,
For they’d never seen a Santa before
And as they cautiously gazed at this strange old man,

Jack related to Santa his masterful plan:
"My dear Mr. Claus, I think it’s a crime
That you’ve got to be Santa all of the time!
But now I will give presents, and I will spread cheer.
We’re changing places I’m Santa this year.
It is I who will say Merry Christmas to you!
So you may lie in my coffin, creak doors, and yell, ‘Boo!’
And please, Mr. Claus, don’t think ill of my plan.
For I’ll do the best Santa job that I can."

And though Jack and his friends thought they’d do a good job,
Their idea of Christmas was still quite macabre.
They were packed up and ready on Christmas Eve day
When Jack hitched his reindeer to his sleek coffin sleigh,
But on Christmas Eve as they were about to begin,
A Halloween fog slowly rolled in.
Jack said, "We can’t leave; this fog’s just too think.
There will be no Christmas, and I can’t be St. Nick."

Then a small glowing light pierced through the fog.
What could it be?. . .It was Zero, Jack’s dog!

Jack said, "Zero, with your nose so bright,
Won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?"

And to be so needed was Zero’s great dream,
So he joyously flew to the head of the team.
And as the skeletal sleigh started its ghostly flight,

Jack cackled, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

‘Twas the nightmare before Christmas, and all though the house,
Not a creature was peaceful, not even a mouse.
The stockings all hung by the chimney with care,
When opened that morning would cause quite a scare!
The children, all nestled so snug in their beds,
Would have nightmares of monsters and skeleton heads.
The moon that hung over the new-fallen snow

Cast an eerie pall over the city below,
And Santa Claus’s laughter now sounded like groans,
And the jingling bells like chattering bones.
And what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a coffin sleigh with skeleton deer.
And a skeletal driver so ugly and sick
They knew in a moment, this can’t be St. Nick!
From house to house, with a true sense of joy,
Jack happily issued each present and toy.

From rooftop to rooftop he jumped and he skipped,
Leaving presents that seemed to be straight from a crypt!
Unaware that the world was in panic and fear,
Jack merrily spread his own brand of cheer.

He visited the house of Susie and Dave;
They got a Gumby and Pokey from the grave.
Then on to the home of little Jane Neeman;
She got a baby doll possessed by a demon.

A monstrous train with tentacle tracks,
A ghoulish puppet wielding an ax,
A man eating plant disguised as a wreath,
And a vampire teddy bear with very sharp teeth.

There were screams of terror, but Jack didn’t hear it,
He was much too involved with his own Christmas spirit!
Jack finally looked down from his dark, starry frights
And saw the commotion, the noise, and the light.

"Why, they’re celebrating, it looks like such fun!
They’re thanking me for the good job that I’ve done."
But what he thought were fireworks meant as goodwill
Were bullets and missiles intended to kill.
Then amidst the barrage of artillery fire,
Jack urged Zero to go higher and higher.
And away they all flew like the storm of a thistle,
Until they were hit by a well guided missile.
And as they fell on the cemetery, way out of sight,

Was heard, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good
night."

Jack pulled himself up on a large stone cross,
And from there he reviewed his incredible loss.
"I thought I could be Santa, I had such belief"
Jack was confused and filled with great grief.
Not knowing where to turn, he looked toward the sky,
Then he slumped on the grave and he started to cry.

And as Zero and Jack lay crumpled on the ground,
They suddenly heard a familiar sound.

"My dear Jack," said Santa, "I applaud your intent.
I know wreaking such havoc was not what you meant.
And so you are sad and feeling quite blue,
But taking over Christmas was the wrong thing to do.
I hope you realize Halloween’s the right place for you.

There’s a lot more, Jack, that I’d like to say,
But now I must hurry, for it’s almost Christmas day."
Then he jumped in his sleigh, and with a wink of an eye,
He said, "Merry Christmas," and he bid them good bye.

Back home, Jack was sad, but then, like a dream,
Santa brought Christmas to the land of Halloween.

Tim Burton

Un año

17 de diciembre de 2005

Hace un año que te fuiste, mi Amelie.

Hace un año de aquél día. A fuego quedará grabado en mi mente para siempre ese mensaje en mi móvil con tres llamadas. A fuego quedará grabada en mi cabeza resonando la noticia imposible, la noticia increíble, la noticia injusta. A fuego quedarán grabadas tantas imágenes dolorosas...

Y hace un año que a las 5.30 de la madrugada me puse en pie, para despedirte como merecías, recorriendo metro a metro la distancia hasta el adiós más cernano.

Hace un año que volví a León, en tan tristes circunstancias. ¿Por qué? Inexplicable, injusto, incomprensible, cruel... Pero real. Irreversible. Definitivo. Cruel.

Hoy hace un año que te recuerdo cada día.

Hoy hace un año que te fuiste y sigue siendo tan triste...

Sigo buscando refugios en los que alojar la sensación de no soportarlo. Sigo queriendo recorrer distancias hasta encontrar un consuelo válido.

Pero te prometo que hoy empieza un nuevo año en el que te recordaré bailando encima de un escenario, en la noche, bajo las estrellas, sonriendo, feliz, agarrando tu falda y haciéndola danzar también.

Este año prometo recordarte cada día así. Porque así eras. Y seguro que así quieres que te recordemos.

Sigue bailando Patri, te quiero mucho.

NO DIRECTION HOME: el regalo

9 de diciembre de 2005

"Nací muy lejos de donde se supone que debo estar y por tanto voy de camino a mi hogar."

Bob Dylan

LIKE A ROLLING STONE

Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn´t you?
People´d call, say ´Beware doll, you´re bound to fall´
You thought they were all kiddin´ you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin´ out
Now you don´t talk so loud
Now you don´t seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You´ve gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you´re gonna have to get used to it
You said you´d never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He´s not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain´t no good
You shouldn´t let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain´t it hard when you discover that
He really wasn´t where it´s at
After he took from you everything he could steal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They´re drinkin´, thinkin´ that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you´d better lift your diamond ring, you´d better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can´t refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You´re invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

6D y más

6 de diciembre de 2005


El Roto, 08/12/1978