Cuba – Page 4 – The Pull Of The Land

1964: Anne, The Beatles, and Beethoven; Bob Gibson and Whitey Ford — Part II: The 1964 World Series

October 20, 2020October 20, 2020 Richard Barnes

In my earlier post “Fernando, Sears, The Yankees, and The Beatles” (here) I told of Fernando’s being a Yankees’ fan as a kid and how he and his childhood friends would run to Sears in Coral Gables to see the prior night’s baseball scores and stats. He was also a Beatles fan and would run to Sears to see where the group’s songs were on the Hit Parade.

Thinking about Fernando, led me to my childhood friend, Anne. In my prior post (here), I told of her enthusiasm for The Beatles in 1964. At the club one day that summer, she had rushed me to the shortwave radio to listen to them.

In stream of consciousness fashion, thinking about Fernando and Anne, reminded me about the shortwave radio which reminded me of my father, who would tell us about his own childhood in Cuba where he and his friends would spend hours in the mining camp club during the baseball season to see the scoreboard of the Yankees’ games. The bartender would receive information by telegraph at the end of each inning and would walk to the board and chalk in the runs for the inning. The kids would whoop and holler whenever he’d chalk in a Yankees’ run, and groan with loud disappointment and exasperation when he’d chalk in a run for the opposing team.

With no radio, and certainly no TV, that is how they “watched” baseball in his childhood in Cuba.

By the time of my childhood, mining clubs had shortwave radios which broadcast the ball games. And, in 1964, the Big One was that year’s World Series.

The radio and also the television play by play was shared between Joe Garagiola and Phil Rizzuto in New York and Curt Gowdy and Harry Caray in St. Louis. However, in El Pao, we heard the play by play in Spanish and, unfortunately, I do not know who did so nor have I been able find it out. If a reader knows, I would very much appreciate hearing from you.

I do remember it was very colorful. One of the most memorable lines was in Game 7, when Tom Tresh came up to bat and for some reason decided to swing at a very high pitch. The Spanish broadcaster yelled out, “Estaba tumbando piñata!” [He was striking a piñata!]. The image that expression evoked is still fresh in my mind today, over 50 years later.

There were many great names of the baseball pantheon in that series: Yogi Berra, Curt Floyd, Roger Maris, Lou Brock, Mickey Mantle and more. Lesser names, but nonetheless memorable, included MVP brothers on opposing teams: Ken and Clete Boyer, for the Cardinals and Yankees, respectively.

In the case of Mickey Mantle, this turned out to be his last World Series. By the end of it, he had played in 12, of which the Yankees had won 7.

In that year, Mantle capped his World Series career with a performance for the record books, including a Game Three, bottom of the ninth, game-winning walk-off home run. The fifth in World Series history at the time and the only one in Mantle’s storied career. It was a Mickey Mantle home run: a low pitch, met by the “Mantle turn”, driven deep, towering and majestic, into right field, well into the third deck of Yankee Stadium. The game was won with one swing of his bat. He ended the series with a .333 average, three home runs, and eight RBIs.

Mantle is still in the record books with the second most at bats — 230 (second only to his teammate, Yogi Berra, with 259), the most base on balls — 43 (Babe Ruth is second, with 33), most extra base hits — 26 (no one comes close), second most hits — 59 (second to his teammate, Yogi Berra with 71), second most World Series games — 65 (second to his teammate, Yogi Berra, with 75), and most home runs in World Series history — 18 (followed by Babe Ruth, with 15). He is highest or second highest in runs scored, RBI’s, and total bases. The only switch hitter to have won the Triple Crown, Mantle’s is a truly great record.

But by the 1964 series, Mickey Mantle was injury-plagued. The St. Louis Cardinals knew it and they strategically decided to run against him, stretching singles into doubles and doubles into triples or home runs.

Another performance for the ages was Lou Brock’s. In what turned out to have been the best trade in Cardinals history, and the worst in Cubs history, Brock was traded by the Cubs to the Cardinals in 1964. That awakened the then fading Cardinals and spurred them on to overtake the Phillies and win the National League pennant. He was one of the best hitters and base stealers in baseball history. And, much to my chagrin, he displayed his hitting prowess with painful effectiveness in the 1964 World Series. Painful to me, that is!

Lou Brock played in three World Series and his adjusted OPS (“On Base Slugging” score) for the World Series was fourth best of all time, just behind Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Reggie Jackson (“Mr. October”). In other words, although Brock was a Hall of Famer for his overall performance, he really turned on the juice in the World Series. For comparison, Mickey Mantle is not in the OPS stats for World Series play, but is in 7th place in all-time adjusted OPS career leaders, whereas Brock is not in the top twenty.

But what a World Series performer! A World Series batting average of .391, with multi hits in 12 of his 21 World Series games, including two hits in Game 7 of the 1964 Series. He is tied, with Mickey Mantle and Eddie Collins, for 11th most all-time series multi hits games. Incredibly, Brock is tied with Eddie Collins for most stolen bases in World Series history: 14. But he did not attempt to steal a base in the 1964 Series! He stole 7 bases in 1967 and 7 more in 1968. No one else has stolen 7 bases in a World Series. As for 1964, Brock let Tim McCarver and Mike Shannon do the stealing. That was enough to defeat my team.

Nevertheless, to me, the most memorable players (besides Mickey Mantle, Lou Brock, and Tresh’s Piñata swing, that is) were Whitey Ford and Bob Gibson.

In the case of Whitey Ford, I couldn’t figure out or understand why he only played in Game One, and lost. It was many years later that I realized that he had been playing that whole season in great pain. But I did not know that nor did I think of asking my father about it. Whitey Ford was considered the archetypical Yankee: clean cut, decent, fair. Deceptively fair, that is. Meaning that just because he was fair, that did not mean he’d let you hit his pitches.

His baseball career spanned 16 years, all with the New York Yankees. He is tied for first place for starting pitchers with the most World Series titles (6), is the all-time leader in World Series starts (22), innings pitched (146), strikeouts (94) and wins (10). In 1960 he threw 283 innings without allowing a single stolen base. Still a record.

In 1961, he won both the Cy Young and the MVP awards. The Cy Young award was introduced in 1956; many baseball connoisseurs believe he would have won easily in earlier seasons, making him a multiple Cy Young winner. But to us kids, he just seemed like an all-around, likable, nice guy. A nice guy who did not finish last. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1974 with a career ERA of 2.745, in the top 100 of all time. He is the 4th winningest pitcher of all time, with a winning percentage of .6901. Ford demonstrates that a pitcher can be very successful even without a powerful fastball. The 1964 World Series was to have been his last.

And he remained unseen after Game One. As a kid, that bothered and saddened me to no end. I rooted for him until injuries finally had their way, forcing his retirement three years later, in 1967.

And then there was Bob Gibson. He pitched three games in that series: 8 innings in Game 2, which he lost against Mel Stottlemyer, 10 innings in Game 5 where he remained on the mound till the very end, picking up the win, and all 9 innings of Game 7, when I kept wishing he’d be too tired to pitch that day.

This man was a machine and even over the radio, he provoked fear. Which helps explain his being in thirteenth place with the most shutouts in baseball history. He had a 17-year career, all with the St. Louis Cardinals. A two-time World Series champion and two-time Cy Young Award winner, Bob Gibson was a fierce competitor on that mound, yet a kind, approachable individual when off the field. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1981, his first year of eligibility.

I remember watching him pitch against the Boston Red Sox in 1967. I wanted the Sox to win because they were in the American League, which was the closest I could get to the then perpetually slumping Yankees. But I could not help but admire that powerful pitcher with the opposite side “kick” to his pitch. And there he was again, on the mound, in the last inning of the last game, picking up yet another seventh game win. He was something to behold.

Between them, they won 17 World Series games. Ford won a record-setting 10 games, but lost 8; Gibson won 7, and lost 2. Ford’s World Series ERA was 2.71 to Gibson’s 1.89. Ford’s ERA was 1.98 before his injury-plagued 1964 performance. His 10 games won record still stands. Gibson’s is in second place, tied with two other pitchers.

That year, 1964, marked the end of the Yankee dynasty. They would not play in another series till 1976, and that team was a shadow of their days of glory, in my opinion. They’ve not been the same since.

The Cardinals went on to play in the 1967 and the 1968 World Series, with Gibson pitching and Brock stealing in both. They won in 1967 on the 7th game against the Boston Red Sox and lost in 1968 on the 7th game against the Detroit Tigers. Both were exciting series, which I was able to see on television in Miami, Florida. But, to me, neither came close to the exhilarating thrill of the 1964 event.

Mickey Mantle passed away on August 13, 1995. He had returned to his childhood faith, expressing genuine repentance for his years of hard drinking and hard living. He considered himself to be a “reverse role-model”: “Don’t be like me,” he said. Whitey Ford was one of his pallbearers.

Lou Brock passed away on September 6, 2020. Roughly a month later, both Bob Gibson and Whitey Ford died on October 2 and October 8, respectively.

At the time of his death, Whitey Ford (91) was the second oldest living member of Baseball’s Hall of Fame.

I guess I’ll always remember the World Series of 1964.

My father did not have pictures of the scoreboard from his Cuba mining camp club. But the above is a photo from a pool hall scoreboard from my father’s era (early 20th century). The kids would sit around, waiting and anticipating someone to come up and chalk in the results of each inning. With no radio and certainly no TV, that is how they watched baseball in his area of Cuba.

View of staff cottages in mining camp in Cuba, circa 1916, a year before my father’s birth.

Mickey Mantle’s is at about the 2-minute mark

Intimidating and effective. I used to not want him to show up because I just “knew” he’d win. But then I’d be mesmerized, along with millions of other baseball fans.

Deceptively smooth. But his pitches were so easy to miss.

Ford in his rookie year, being congratulated by Joe DiMaggio (left) and Gene Woodling for a six-hit shut out, vaulting the Yankees into first place.

Lou Brock, known as “Stolen Base Specialist”. He had an infectious smile and his exuberance was contagious.

Known as “The Perfect Baseball Player”, Mickey Mantle was a powerful switch hitter. His hard drinking and other shenanigans shortened his career for which he expressed genuine, heartfelt regret later in life.

Although this post does not quote nor use this book as a source, I mention it because it is well regarded. I do have my quibbles with it, however. To me, it seemed Halberstam had an axe to grind, wanting to use this series as a sort of paradigm for racial issues in America. I found that unconvincing and distracting and, by the last page, I wished he had told us more about the series itself. Nevertheless, a good, easy read for baseball fans.

Fernando, Sears, the Yankees, and The Beatles

October 9, 2020October 9, 2020 Richard Barnes

Fernando Rodriguez was an Arthur Andersen audit manager in San Juan, Puerto Rico. He had a delightful sense of humor which, upon remembrance, still makes me chuckle, if not laugh outright.

Once, around noon, having gotten his haircut in the barber shop in the lobby of the Royal Bank of Canada, he walked out and ran into one of the firm’s partners who gruffly rebuked him, “Hmmm. Getting a haircut during office hours!” to which Fernando, without missing a beat, replied, “My hair grows during office hours!”

Of course, the partner laughed.

During one of our trips to the mainland, we had a stop in Miami during which he called relatives there, introducing himself as “Fernandito”. After he hung up the phone, I asked him a bit about his childhood in Miami. A couple of his stories remain with me presumably because they are not too dissimilar from my own childhood experiences.

As a child, he had escaped Cuba where, like his friends and family, he was a die hard New York Yankees fan, as I had been in my childhood. They lived in the Coral Gables area of Miami and every day, he and other young Cuban refugees would run to Sears where they could see the previous night’s baseball scores. He told me of their loud delight whenever the Yankees had won and, looking back, how strange that must have seemed to the Sears employees. Who are these Spanish-speaking kids yelping as they would in the baseball stands when this is not a stadium and there is no game going on?

As he told of that era, I instantly related. Every year our family took our annual leave in Miami where we also had relatives. And every year, my mother would include a long, tedious day or two of shopping in Sears of Coral Gables. In retrospect, I have to admire my parents’ planning. They guesstimated their children’s growth for the following year and bought them clothing on that basis. I can remember only once or twice having to buy clothes in Venezuela, for funerals. It was very expensive and that is why we, and other families in El Pao, bought in the USA once a year.

And I also recall rooting for the Yankees over the big short wave radio at the El Pao Club.

Fernando went on to tell of how he and his childhood friends were so taken by The Beatles phenomenon. They would run to Sears every week, baseball season or no, to check the standings of any Beatles songs on the hit parade. He chuckled as he pondered how crazy they must have seemed to those Sears people.

This too rang true. In another post I’ll tell about the “arrival” of that band in El Pao in 1964 and how that coincided closely with a heartbreaking Yankees loss that year. But for now, I’ll say that when their hit song of the moment came on that short wave radio, my childhood friend, Anne, came running to me, insisting that I come and hear them. Just like Fernando and his friends ran to see how they were doing against the competition.

Fernando went on to live and to thrive in Puerto Rico, first as an Arthur Andersen audit manager, and then as partner and president of a regional CPA firm based in the San Juan area. I last saw him when he and I along with a mutual friend and colleague, Vicente Gregorio, met to reminisce and, mostly, to laugh, in Christmastime, 2012, during one of my visits to Puerto Rico. He passed away on June 4, 2014.

Coral Gables, Florida, was founded in the 1920s and was designed to be a pedestrian city. That, it certainly was as my childhood memories can attest: walking up and down Miracle Mile and Alhambra; visiting the Miracle Mile movie theater; walking to and diving into the gigantic Venetian Pool are all vivid memories decades later.

Many Cubans settled in Venezuela and I was privileged to know them, to love them, to miss them. As I miss my friend, Fernando.

Sears in Coral Gables is one of the very few remaining Sears stores in Florida.

Douglas Entrance to Coral Gables, Florida as I and my friend, Fernando, remembered it.

Sears in Coral Gables, Florida. Miracle Mile is seen in background. Thanks to Dreamstime for photo.

Miracle Mile Theater, Coral Gables, Florida

Fernando Rodriguez, my friend and colleague. May he rest in peace.

Extra Judicial Deaths

April 11, 2020April 11, 2020 Richard Barnes

In the early 1960’s, two American Peace Corps volunteers driving in the city of Caracas inadvertently ran a Venezuelan National Guard checkpoint. They were immediately pursued by siren-blaring vehicles and motorcycles. Once they realized they were being chased, they pulled over and stepped out of their car with their hands in the air, only to be shot down in a hail of bullets. One died instantly, the other was in critical condition but was rushed to the hospital and eventually recovered.

Such was the nervousness in those days. Pérez Jiménez had been exiled and Rómulo Betancourt, a former Communist, had been elected president and immediately invited Fidel Castro for talks in Caracas. The talks did not go as anticipated, Castro being impatient for immediate Latin American revolutions, Betancourt having moderated somewhat and being more patient to wait for a revolution over time, wherein the state eventually took over most major private enterprises, including the oil and steel industries.

But Castro’s impatience blew up like an exploding cigar. Arms, ammunition, and explosives caches were found along the Venezuelan coast and easily traced back to Cuba and in November, 1961, Betancourt, very publicly, broke diplomatic relations with Cuba. Immediately, Communist guerrilla activity flared and intensified. Checkpoints were set up across the country, so much so that decades later, when stopped at checkpoints while visiting Latin American countries on business, I experienced no nervousness whatsoever, as I had become inured to such since childhood.

That was the atmosphere and the context in the early ’60s when the two hapless volunteers were shot down.

But the early 1960s were a piker compared to extra judicial deaths in Venezuela between January 2018 and May 2019: 6,856 according to the U.N. High Commissioner for Human Rights. That’s more than the killings attributed to Augusto Pinochet’s 17-years in office. And many believe that the commission likely undercounted.

Of the top 20 “murder capitals” in the world, Venezuela has 4 (second only to Mexico) and Caracas is in third place, after Tijuana and Acapulco. If you have been following this blog, you have an idea how shocking this is when you recall that as late as the mid-20th century Venezuelans left their doors not only unlocked, but sometimes open to allow air to flow through on warm, humid nights.

Our earlier posts told of Richard Nixon’s visit in 1958 (Nixon) and the leftist fervent in Caracas university student bodies and their involvement in that close run thing (Universities). The United States National Security Council’s minutes after the Vice President’s return records some interesting insights by John Foster Dulles, the United States Secretary of State as to what might have ailed Venezuela in that era. The following is excerpted from the minutes in 1958, declassified decades later:

“Secretary Dulles went on to say that there was one more very important factor in the Latin American problem which the United States faced. This was the collapse of religion generally in Latin America. We all believe in this country that religion, with its emphasis on the rights and freedoms of the individual under God, is the very core of our democratic system and that it is also the greatest bulwark against atheistic communism. Unhappily … organized religion had practically no influence on the mass of the people as opposed to the aristocracy. Admittedly, said Secretary Dulles, he did not know what we could do about correcting this very grave situation, but it was certainly at the heart of our problem in Latin America.”

Secretary Dulles was on to something. Search for any listing of the top 50 murder capitals in the world, and you’ll find that all but 9 or 10 are in Latin America. However, you’ll also see a smattering of US cities in the lists. As the true religion wanes in the hearts of a people, their capacity for self-government and self-restraint, as well as their courage in restraining others by simply calling a spade a spade, so to say, also wanes. As to the very little crime in Venezuela up to the middle of the last century, it must be said that much of that was likely due to the mano dura of “benign dictatorships who promptly and at times ruthlessly dealt with crime. As Dulles might have put it: you either govern yourself, or you will be governed.

Even today, in Latin America, the mano dura approach is applauded by people of all philosophical stripes. For example, Coronavirus lockdown decrees (which are not different from those of a number of US state governors) would easily have been characterized as totalitarian not too many decades ago. But, whereas in the US there is genuine questioning and push back, including hard-hitting editorials and opinion columns, in Latin America it is amazing to see very little intellectual resistance, but rather applause because “sometimes such measures are necessary.”

Latin America flirted for a long time with, to use Dulles’ words, “atheistic communism”. There are hopeful signs of an awakening, which cannot come too soon. However, looking at our own dalliance with the living-without-God option, might we facing our own dark night?

In this Easter Season, let us all look to Him Who was lifted up and Who draws all peoples unto Him. Personal knowledge of Him gives us an understanding and an inclination to deny oneself thereby to control oneself. This, in turn, foments a growing appreciation for liberty under God and the eternal vigilance necessary to preserve it.

May you have a wonderful Easter.

Nationalization and Military Dissent

August 25, 2019August 25, 2019 Richard Barnes

In the late 1970’s, I took an extended leave to visit the country of my birth. During that most memorable trip, I had the joyful pleasure of meeting countless individuals and families, who, in true Venezuelan fashion were not shy in sharing their opinions about the direction the country was taking at the time.

That direction was, in a word, “nationalization” or forced divestment, principally of the iron ore and petroleum industries. This phenomenon was worldwide at the time, especially in Africa and Latin America, and it had devastating consequences.

What I saw — gargantuan enterprises with protean manufacturing plants, power centers, chemical processors, and assorted buildings and dormitories, accompanied by massive hirings of blue and white collar workforces and countless foreign workers, some of whom were housed on cruise ships docked on the Orinoco — did not “pass the sniff test”.

I had a number of vigorous but mostly friendly debates on the merits of government-run versus privately run operations. Already the mining camp where I was born had shown deterioration. One lady expressed sincere surprise at this, “How is it that now that this belongs to us, we haven’t managed to maintain it, let alone improve it?”

“Could it be that when something belongs to ‘us all’ it actually belongs to no one?” was one refrain I found myself repeating throughout the trip.

At my expressed concern about the immense power and wealth being concentrated in the Venezuelan government, something usually seen in Communist or Socialist regimes, the usual reply by those who disagreed with my concerns, was along the lines of, ‘it’s about time that “our” wealth remained here instead of being transferred to the United States.'”

Conversely, the reply by those who somewhat agreed with my concerns was along the lines of, “the Venezuelan military would never allow the government to devolve into outright Socialism or Communism.”

Interestingly, neither camp was concerned about what all this nationalization activity would lead to. In one heated and less friendly exchange, a more recent acquaintance at the time ridiculed my concerns, expressing disdain that I would question the massive wealth now owned by the Venezuelan people. He mocked my assertion that the people actually “owned” nothing. It was all owned by the state.

According to a scholarly analysis by the Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City in 2013, “Nationalization brought considerable declines in productivity in the oil industries of the sample countries. Productivity fell by more than 70 percent in the Venezuelan oil industry. Despite enormous efforts put into expansion, it took Venezuelan’s nationalized industry about 20 years to return to its early 1960’s productivity levels.”

Sadly, shortly after the 20 years, another, more serious wave of nationalization was launched with even more catastrophic results. To take just one example, the enormous Venezuelan steelworks, Sidor, the crown of Venezuelan heavy industry, saw its production go from 4 million tons of steel in 2007, the year before its nationalization by the Chavez Socialist government, to 1.5 million in 2014, with triple the number of employees. Between late October, 2013 and August 2014, it had operated for only 90 days. I have no access to more recent figures nor would I trust them if I did.

Well, the wealth is gone for the most part; other than the billions in the private foreign bank accounts of a relative handful of Socialists. As for the massive mineral and petroleum reserves, those await the capital and the expertise to extract it. That explains the intense interest and activity in Venezuela on the part of both China and Russia.

As to the military, in later trips, friends were more subdued as they told me of the heavy Cuban influence in the Venezuelan forces. Why was this not being reported, they wondered.

Fidel Castro ruthlessly applied the tactic of buying or otherwise coopting the military. A tactic he taught Hugo Chavez and Nicolás Maduro. Hence, the failure of the Venezuelan military to “never allow the government to devolve into outright Socialism or Communism.”

To read more about the emasculation of the Venezuelan military, refer to the Reuters article linked below, “How Cuba Taught Venezuela to Quash Military Dissent”. The article is appreciated, but why did it not appear a decade ago when it might have made a difference?

https://editorialexpress.com/cgi-bin/conference/download.cgi?db_name=CEF2014&paper_id=90
The macroeconomic analysis of the negative impact of nationalization on productivity

https://www.yahoo.com/news/special-report-cuba-taught-venezuela-121454933.html

Simón Bolivar II

May 4, 2019May 4, 2019 Richard Barnes

This post complements the prior, doing so in the form of excerpts of a dialogue between an ex-patriate employee of an American company and a young Venezuelan who, having pursued higher education in Caracas, had returned to the interior with something to say. The conversation took place in the mid-1950’s on a street in a town on the shores of the Orinoco River during a hot period of the Cold War.

The trigger was an altercation where an older, American executive had been attacked by a mob. Adam had intervened by flooring the leader. He then escorted the elderly man to a company truck and came back to talk with Enrique, who had remained after the group had dispersed.

Any names are fictitious, including any states of origin.

“But, Sr. Adam, you are ignoring America’s malevolence towards Latin America as a whole. Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson thought we were about a scale or two lower than the Araguato [Howling Monkey]. They insisted on telling us how to live and govern ourselves. As if we were ignorant beasts, recently arrived from the stone age. They never acknowledged that we had a thriving civilization for centuries before your Pilgrims arrived up north!”

“I have never denied our faults, Enrique. And you must remember that the American people come from 48 sovereign states. We do not necessarily agree with the Roosevelts and Wilsons in Washington. Lord knows I don’t. I am first an Illinois man; then, an American. Anyway, since you know your history, you will remember that the American people rejected Wilson’s utopian designs on us and on the rest of the world.”

“No great comfort to us, Sr. Adam.”

“Many Americans have a genuine affinity for Latin America, you surely know that. Wilson and Roosevelt may presume to tell Latin Americans how to live and how to govern themselves, but many Americans do not agree with them on that. I would have thought you knew that too. When we pave roads and build schools, churches, swimming pools, clubs, baseball fields, bowling alleys, and who knows what else, do you see us telling you how to live? No, you do not. When you see us distributing food and offering excursions to historic sites, do you see us propagandizing for the United States government? No, you don’t see us doing that either.

“And yet, we hear radicalized teachers and professors, and, sad to say, even priests, maintain a constant drumbeat of propaganda designed to blacken the United States.”

“But, I guess I shouldn’t feel like the Lone Ranger, should I, Enrique? You not only dislike Americans, you also dislike Spain, don’t you? And the irony of this hatred is that the American elite and his English cousins had a hand in spreading the worldwide anti-Spain propaganda. Something for which I am not proud at all. And yet, you also believe the black propaganda, even though we Americans had a hand in spreading it.”

“Now, there’s an area where you could work to dispel bad history and where you could, rightly, accuse Americans of spreading falsehoods. All this we readily admit and stipulate. And, I’ll go even further: The United States are reaping the whirlwind as France now takes the lead in blackening our own reputation. We don’t like the lies being said of us; but, sadly, we spread many lies about Spain. So, you would be justified in saying to us, ‘As you brew, so shall you bake.’ All this I readily grant to you, Enrique.”

“But none of it justifies your actions and your attitudes towards me and towards my countrymen.”

“It is not that I dislike Spain, Sr. Adam. It is that I admire French philosophy and culture and literature, which is far superior to both Spain’s and America’s.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that, Enrique. I think you would agree that Don Quixote, written about a century before either Voltaire or Rousseau, is a masterpiece. And it is far more rooted in reality than anything those two twits ever said or wrote. I will not even pretend to appreciate those two hypocrites. Rousseau left, what? 4, or was it 5 children in foundling homes because he refused to care for his own. And yet he insisted on telling the rest of us how to live! Oh! Wait! Isn’t that what you fault the Americans for?”

“I’ve always been impressed with your knowledge, Sr. Adam….”

“Stop the flattery, Enrique; I don’t like it at all.”

“My apologies,” this with extended vowels, highlighting that skin-crawling sarcasm, which Adam ignored.

“And if Rousseau was evil, Sartre is the devil incarnate. And yet you admire them, Enrique. Don’t you? You admire them because Paris is your Mecca, not Madrid. And Paris is no friend of the United States; certainly not in her existentialist literature and attitudes which are antithetical to the American traditional view of history and purposefulness and belief in a Creator Who rules and providentially cares….”

“Are you saying the Libertador was evil for preferring France to Spain, Sr. Adam?” Enrique impatiently interrupted. “As you know, Simón Bolivar was actually expelled from Madrid. So, yes, our founding owes much to France, especially 19^thcentury Paris where Bolivar lived and imbibed the spirit of liberty. “

“It was in France, Sr. Adam, where the Libertador absorbed the revolutionary spirit which would come to free our lands from Spanish oppression. It was in France where he gained the courage to cast everything aside for the sake of liberty from Spain and from any oppressor. So, respectfully, if you expect me to apologize for my preference for French literature and philosophy over Spanish obscurantism and American superficiality, you will be disappointed, Señor Adam.”

“Enrique, I do not expect you to apologize for what is the foundation of your hatred for America and also, by the way, for thousands of Venezuelans who disagree with your attitude and predilections against us.”

“Of course, I fully understand that the revolutionaries of France and South America, despite being physically separated by a vast ocean, nevertheless shared the same ideals: ‘utter, blind faith in a political ideal over an ancient regime; the belief that the past was to be buried, not honored; an unquestioning assurance that the world was being transformed and that process of transformation was opening new paths to new men, new ideas, new ambitions.’ In other words, man was being born again; however, not from above.”

“But, I wonder if you’ve ever paused to consider another thing the French Revolution and South Americans had in common: incredible bloodshed and heinous tortures. Venezuela alone lost over one third of her population. One third!”

“And it was in Venezuela where one of the bloodiest racial wars of all time took place. A little while ago you were criticizing my country for its supposed despising of “lower” classes, and this despite our private and public philanthropic work to all classes of peoples around the world. But have you ever paused to consider the blood that was spilt in Venezuela, much of it on the basis of class and race?”

“And as for the Libertador, you’ll forgive me for not being an uncritical fanatic. I agree he was a heroic figure. Surely the great treks across the Andes Mountains and through much of South America will, for ages, grace the annals of history. But he also needlessly spilled much blood.”

“You must also know he was a great admirer of Napoleon. He was in Paris when Napoleon was crowned; but he refused to attend because he felt Napoleon — whom he had adored up to that moment — had betrayed the revolutionary spirit. But Bolivar blithely, and ominously for Venezuela, ignored Napoleon’s rationale: the tendency of a people who cannot govern themselves is sanguinary anarchy; therefore, a king is necessary. Mr. Bolivar did not even pause to ponder why Napoleon allowed himself to be crowned.

“But you are right, in its terrible 19^thcentury Revolution, Venezuela was closer to France, philosophically, than to Spain. I would not consider that a compliment. But it is true.”

Enrique did not have any desire to continue the faux Socratic dialogue. “Sr. Adam, I am not interested in your opinions about the great Libertador. To you, everything is either black or white. A cut and dry sort of thing! You come to another country and expect us to behave or to believe as you do in North America. We have a different culture; a different history. You would be wise if you recognized that!”

Adam turned, “I agree that our cultures have differences. However, you must agree, in turn, that some things are universal: murder is bad; cowardice is bad; disrespect to elders is bad; attacking an older, defenseless man is bad! Do not be such a fool as to hide behind the ‘class’ or ‘culture’ fig leaf to justify the unjustifiable. You should be ashamed of yourself, Enrique. Good-bye.”

Enrique stood, as if rooted in the dirt street, one of three running through the center of the town.

He looked at Adam’s back, suppressing the urge to assault him.

“One day, it will be you lying in the dirt, eating your own blood and vomit,” he hissed, thinking Adam could not hear him.