Holiday Ramble
Playing a little hookie from the store this morning, this birthday of the United States. I just got off the phone with my import agent, and even though the people in Miami said my shoes were loaded a week ago, they're not due here until this Friday. Both blessing and curse, of course. I want to get the store open as soon as possible, but I also want it to be perfect when I do, which means I need another week anyway.
The reason for the call from my import agent wasn't about the shoes though, it was about the engine block for the car. Supposedly they sent a document to me last week to sign and return, but I never saw it. The block has been in country for about two weeks just waiting to go to my mechanic. The car has been waiting since December. The paperwork is a nightmare.
Local gringo buddy Charlie called last night and we'll be off to the White House tonight to take in some fireworks. The White House is sort of an institution around here for rich visitors. It's up on a mountain in Escazu with a spectacular view and a helicopter pad. The main attraction is the restaurant, but it's also a boutique hotel and you can rent Harleys there. The owner drives a Hummer with a faux Presidential seal on it.
Which brings to mind that I've been itching to have lunch again at the Gran Hotel de Costa Rica on the Plaza de la Cultura. It's smack dab in the middle of San Jose and one may dine al fresco amongst the local riff-raff separated only by potted plants. Right across the plaza is the Teatro Nacional, which is a pint size replica of the Paris Opera House. Having lunch at the Gran Hotel is a must-do to enjoy a plethora of stereotypes both foreign and domestic. They even have a piano player.
So, Happy Birthday America from Costa Rica, and don't blow off too many limbs or digits. You know you don't want to read the Nanny's scolding in tomorrow's paper.
