Marshfield Super Mercado

. . . now stocks all the things that the Isla Mujeres (island of women) super mercado has, with the same brand names. But they are in English, not Spanish or Mayan.









Black beans, salsa, mole sauce, rice, chiles (in a can), enchilada sauce and caliente sauce. Sandy couldn't find Sol Cerveza at the Marshfield market. Oh wait! You can't buy beer in a Massachusetts supermarket. You can buy it at the Isla mercado in Centro when you buy your food, but not after 9 and NADA on Domingo. Well, it IS right across from the church.













But we still have to go to Isla Mujeres, Mexico for the homemade tortillas.

We are going again (23rd year) in Febrero, but we will drive two hours north to the island of Holbox (whole - bush) for three days first. There are no cars there and all the streets are white sand. I hear that the water is light greenish, not Windex blue like Isla. Jeez, maybe it has oil in it!

On the drive back down we are going to explore a Mayan ruin, El Meco, that is within walking distance of Puerto Juarez, where you catch the ferry. It certainly must have had a major connection with Isla being only eight miles away by water 1,000 years ago. Puerto Juarez was just a small town on the Caribbean when there was no Cancun.

Mañana,
Tocino

Oh !! I think I have found another Yucatan driving trip. It was in Condé Naste Magazine. It starts in the Gulf of Mexico city of Beracruz and goes west.



I mean Veracruz. Vs are Bs in Mexico. Veracruz is west of Isla Holbox. Check out the article in the latest Condé Naste. Especially the church photo.



Hasta la bye bye.

Custer's Luck

For Fathers Day Kezia got me "The Last Stand." It is the story of the Battle of the Little Bighorn. I am currently reading it down in the casita behind the pool every night.



On George Armstrong Custer, Mr. Philbrick wrote:

His rise was meteoric. He started the war in the summer of 1861 as a second lieutenant; by July 3, 1863, just two years later, he was a freshly minted twenty- three -year-old brigadier general at the last, climactic day of the Battle of Gettysburg. As Confederate general George Pickett mounted his famous charge against the Union forces, a lesser- known confrontation occurred on the other side of the battlefield. The redoubtable Jeb Stuart launched a desperate attempt to penetrate the rear of the Union line. If he could smash through Federal resistance, he might meet up with Pickett's forces and secure a spectacular victory for General Lee.

As it turned out, all Stuart had to do was punch his way through a vastly outnumbered regiment from Michigan and victory was his. But as the Confederates bore down on their northern counterparts (who were outnumbered by four to one), an event occurred that changed the course of the battle and arguably, the war.

Custer, dressed in an almost comical black velvet uniform of his own design that featured gaudy coils of gold lace , galloped to the head of the First Michigan and assumed command. Well ahead of his troops, with his sword raised, he turned toward his men and shouted, " Come on, you Wolverines!" With Custer in the lead, the Michiganders started out at a trot but were soon galloping, "every man yelling like a demon.

When Custer's and Stuart's forces collided on what is now called East Cavalry Field, the sound reminded one of the participants of the thunderous crash of a giant falling tree. "Many of the horses were turned end over end and crushed their riders beneath them," a cavalryman remembered. The bodies of some of the combatants were later found "pinned to each other by tightly-clenched sabers driven through their bodies." Custer's horse was shot out from underneath him, but he quickly found another mount and was back in the fray.

Soon the Federals had the enemy on the run. As one Union officer later commented, it had been "the most gallant charge of the war." But for Custer, it was just the beginning of a long string of spectacular victories that ultimately prompted General Philip Sheridan to award Libbie Custer the table on which Grant and Lee signed the surrender at Appomattox. Included with the gift was a note: "Permit me to say, Madam, that there is scarcely an individual in our service who has contributed more to bring this desirable result than your gallant husband."







My good friends Tom Egan and Allan Sylvester were at Yellowstone this past week. They just called me from Montana today at four PM. They had stopped at the Little Big Horn. A Cheyenne had just given them his side of the story of the battle. They both sounded very excited. Their cell phone call certainly made my day.

Check out my story on my blog called "Como Se Llama," and even better yet, buy Philbrick’s latest book, "The Last Stand." You thought that you knew everything about the Pilgrims but then you read his book "The Mayflower" and were flabbergasted. He was a finalist for the Pulitzer and he also made the New York Times ten best books of the year with Mayflower. Well I think he is doing it again. Did you know that he has lived in Nantucket since 1986? He came to the 1699 Winslow house for a reading and book signing here in Marshfield a couple of years ago. It was standing room only with twice the number of people turned away. The Cerris, Sylvesters , Donovans and Bacons attended and had their Mayflower books signed. That was a very good day also.

An Evening in Providence

We went to Water Fire last evening in Providence, Rhode Island. Oak wood fires in the river, gondolas from Italy, Italian opera from Eeetaly . . .

The city was packed. Swing dancing and jazz listening there for the taking. If you have never been to Water Fire you need to go. Maybe you were there but we didn't see you. Grazie, Mayor Buddy Cianci!

It was a steamy night in more ways than one. Last night on Federal Hill the young beautiful Italian girls made me feel old. Some so gorgeous you just burst out smiling. At the plaza some young crooner was singing Frank Sinatra tunes. Giovanni commented on all the beautiful automobiles parked in front of Andino's: Porsches , Ferraris, BMWs and even low riders. You can get a tattoo or a cigar on the Hill, no problem. Helmet-less motorcycle riders cruise the avenue. It is always a shock to cross into Rhode Island from Massachusetts and see that.

John and I were ahead of Sandy& Barb, walking back to the car along Atwells Avenue, when we came upon the best looking girls yet. I doubled back and asked Sandy for my high blood pressure medicine. She and Barb got the joke and just laughed.

The highlight of the night of girl watching for John and me was either the two bartender girls in low-cut black tops and short skirts at the bar at Zooma's, or the black chicks, goin’ out dancin’ , at midnight, in dresses as tight as socks. Their asses sticking WAY out. More than Jennifer Lopez. I burst out laughing at that one. Remember the Supremes? It was quite a fashion show on the Hill last night.

"Makes a young man smile, makes an old man moan" -- lyrics from an old song. How appropriate.

Chet Urbati

Question from CECS Chet Urbati:
Bob, who first took you to the top of the hangar to the top of the water tower to change the observation light?

Bob’s Answer:
Chet, was it the same Seabee who sent me a baboon skin from his duty station in Ethiopia?

Who got blown up on the tarmac in Vietnam?

Who was stationed on American Samoa?

Who married a girl from Puerto Rico?

Who lied to the Chief about me climbing the water tower at the Hingham Ammunition Dump when he had let me go on liberty early to see my girlfriend?

Do you mean the guy who took me to the bar in west Quincy that had a sign in the window, WE DON'T HAVE A TV BUT THERE IS A FIGHT HERE EVERY NIGHT?

Who took me under his wing when I came aboard South Weymouth Naval Air Station and even brought me to visit his Mom and Dad at Crow Point when I was still a wet-behind-the-ears 19 year old?

Who taught me all about metals, especially COPPER?

Whose wife Carmen I met while dancing Cajun at Mulates in New Orleans?

The guy with the 44 years of hash marks?

His last duty station was Gulfport, Mississippi.

Rumor has it that he made Senior Chief.

That boring guy?

I forget his name.

by Bacon CEW2 693-10-63

Luigi

I met Luigi at the South Weymouth Naval Air Station in 1965. He was the gardener for the whole base. As far as I know he was the only one. He was a Sandcrab. That is what the Marines and Sailors called civilians working on a United States military installation.

By now you know that I grew up in a very ethnic Italian neighborhood. So naturally I was attracted to the short Italian man who walked with an awkward gait, as if one leg was 8 inches shorter than the other. He spoke very broken English and always chewed garlic, the aroma of which would make your head spin when you spoke to him.

In the service no one called you by your first name. No one but Luigi, that is, and for some reason he called me Bill. Luigi was 83 at the time and I didn't think it necessary to correct him. So I never did.

Ona day hea comea upa to me and he say, “Bill, I hear you gonna getta married.”

I confirmed that I was.

He said, “Bill, whata kind of ah girl you marry, Eetalian?"

I said no. He seemed tripped up by that answer.

He thought it over and he said, "Bill, you marry a French girl?"

I said no.

He thought and he thought, and finally he say in a mildly frustrated way, "BILL, WHAT KIND OF AH GIRL YOU MARRY?"

I replied, “A Polish girl, Luigi.”

That stopped him cold.

He thought and he thought. He rubbed his chin while shaking his head. Finally he said, "She be OK!"

A week later, he presented me with this rug as a wedding gift. As luck would have it, he was correct about my future wife. Maybe because of Luigi's blessing, we will be married for 43 years this September anda si si si she's a been very OK.



Lucky me, Iah stilla hava the rug and I stilla hava the girl.

Sadly we don't have Luigi anymore, but I know where he is.

Written with sweet memories by his friend
Bill Bacon

Hangar 1

Hangar 1 at South Weymouth Massachusetts Naval Air Station.

Originally built to house blimps.



It was one of my jobs to keep the lights working in the tower on the right. For this I would get a half a day off.

When a new sailor came aboard, it was also my duty to walk him to the top, but only if he wanted to. I on the other hand had no choice. Aye Aye, Sir!





Yah, that's me topside. Look at how much higher Hangar 1 is, compared to the orange and white water tower. You can't make this stuff up.

Bacon CEW2 693-10-63
construction electrician wiring petty officer second class

you NEVER forget your service number