Yesterday was one of those overcast days that May has been interspersing with absolutely gorgeous, humidity-free sunshine. Just after noon, I was sitting at my computer, doing some things, when I looked up and the sun was out.
So—here’s Nina Simone singing about it.
You're welcome.
©2026 Bas Bleu
This is a bit of a change from my usual posting on vehicular license plates, because it’s not really about the plate, which is not a vanity offering. This time it’s the plate frame, not the plate itself, that sends the message.
But also, there’s that little pink, plastic thing
hanging from the bumper.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Okay, a while back I found the mother of all tubers at Wegman’s. I mean—it dwarfed all the other potatoes in the bin.
(I have no bananas, so here’s a paring knife for
comparison.)
It made a whole bowl of mashed potatoes, with having to
peel only one.
Win-win.
©2026 Bas Bleu
Today’s Cinco de Mayo, a holiday celebrated more widely in the US than in México. In my native California, the celebrations will have been going on for days, involving fiestas, mariachis and copious amounts of tequila y cerveza.
Also, any number of retail sales.
You may not know that Cinco de Mayo is basically a regional
holiday in México, marking the defeat by forces under Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín
of the invading French army at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. The victory didn’t
stop the French, intent on an imperial adventure come what may. Not until 1867,
when the US woke up from our own civil war and started reminding the French of
the Monroe Doctrine, and adding that, gee, we have this whole army hanging
around, trained, equipped and everything…did the French withdraw.
They left behind their ersatz "emperor of
México", Maximilian, who had the misfortune to be an unemployed Hapsburg
archduke (and possible relative of that popinjay Napoleon III), at a time when
France needed a figurehead to legitimize their invasion of México. He was executed
by firing squad on the orders of Benito Juárez on 19 June 1867.
Sic semper imperis.
Cinco de Mayo isn’t actually México’s independence
day—that’s 16 September, when a criollo priest rallied the
Mexicans to drive the Spaniards out in 1810. It’s kind of like the Fourth of
July in the US—there wasn’t a major military victory, but the very act of
declaring that enough is enough is the point at which a nation grows out of a colony.
Father Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla inspired his countrymen
with “el grito de Dolores” (“Cry of Dolores). This was something along
the lines of, “Long live Our Lady of Guadalupe, death to bad government and
death to the Spaniards!” The Battle of Guanjuato followed a few days later, the
war was on and the Spanish didn’t actually acknowledge México’s independence
until 1821.
But back to the celebration at hand. It’s really a occasion
to revel in the heritage of the Mexican immigrants to this country. I don’t
remember it as a kid in LA, but by the 80s it was big time. At this particular time, it seems to me more important than ever to consider the multiple cultural threads that are woven into the American tapestry.
For me, I might go for just one shot of reposado, to drink
to the death to bad government. That’s always something worthy of toasting.
¡Viva la Revolución!
©2026 Bas Bleu
Today I am grateful for the poetry of Spring—all the colors that envelop us as Nature throws off Winter’s coat.
I’m grateful for brisk temperatures for my morning walk, as
well as the lack of humidity.
I’m grateful for overnight rain that clears up before I go
out.
I’m grateful for the birds who sing and the foxes running
across the golf course.
Is there any better way to start the day?
©2026 Bas Bleu
