The Cordovez Brood

Chapter 2 of 25 -- Head Hunters of The Amazon

A Land of Opportunity

Recall, Up de Graff went to Ecuador on the invitation of a friend from college days and fraternity. Being a guy who loved outdoor living, Up de Graff went hunting. This wasn’t just squirrels or rabbits like I used to hunt, but monkeys, turkeys, wild pigs, parrots, deer and jaguars. He remembered how hunting monkeys (baboons) really excited his enthusiasm. But it was the taste of them that stood out so clearly in his memory, saying, “The gastronomical possibilities of a baboon probably occur to only a very few of the millions who gaze at him through iron bars.” I'm not able to disagree.

Beyond that, he met the rest of the Cordovez family, including a brother most famous for the picturesque cursing of the peons. Which, though I disapprove, it'd still be nice to have a sample, maybe extending to a minute. “You worthless shiftless son of a bitch, I’m cutting you off from rum at the fiesta! You can die of thirst for all I care!”

But it was the father of the clan whom Up de Graff ranked the most egregiously worst of the bunch, and this goes along with modern sensibilities of fairness, honesty, and respect. Meaning, I may as well brag, I am personally more refined than the average Cordovez (of that particular group, now dead). Few of us are as wealthy as they were, but their riches seem to have been amassed in large part via hook or crook.

I’ll try to tamp down my righteous anger and stick the bottle of vitriol back in the cupboard and remain as dispassionate as a person of my sensitive sensibilities can reasonably be expected to muster or attain.

Further, Up de Graff says the Cordovez menage at Riobamba included, in addition to the terrible old man himself and his sons, his wife who kept house. The old man was generally unkempt, having little use for soap and seldom changing his clothes. But my qualms with the old man — it’s something of a simmering rage, threatening to boil over any minute — has to do with his abominable treatment of others. Which Up de Graff also had a hand in, to the extent he could stand it, when he finally quit.

Old Man Cordovez sent him to Salinas. Which is an interesting place for its elevation and views all around. North of there are mountains that rise over 22,000 feet above sea level. Making the average everyday mountain look like a pimple. On a good day, when the sun’s just right, other mountains have to pack it in in frustration.

The main sins of the Cordovez family and the old man in particular have to do with him not paying his workers, and additionally always scheming to keep them in servitude by being indebted to him. I thought I had a bad boss or two, but this guy was scheming people into perpetual slavery. And I have a hard time overlooking that, no matter how pretty the mountains are.

Your All Bad News Horoscope

Scientists tell us there's more stars in space than grains of sand on Earth. And there's far more grains of sand on Earth than there are people. Meaning, if you think about it, there's at least enough stars that each us can have one of our very own. So is it so hard to believe that there's also a bad star out there with your name on it? Always portending disaster.

I know people like bad news. True, we don't always like it about ourselves. But bad news is what sells, according to folks in the business. And of course it's better to know than not, so, on the chance that it might do some good, we could try to get ahead of it and avert it.

With all that in mind, I had the great idea of a horoscope column in the paper dedicated to nothing but bad news. Diseases, accidents, various cautions, take it slow, etc.

Here's a few samples:

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19) -- Bad news is coming your way, when a long lost parent shows up, until now thought dead, but alive and in serious trouble, probably massive debt.

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18) -- There will be a mass escape today of birds from a turkey farm. Most of them will make their way to your home, with some entering your closet and chewing your clothing to nothing but buttons and shreds.

Aries (March 21-April 19) -- The tree in your front yard that you've always seen as protection against an out-of-control vehicle will develop sap rot and need to be cut down early this afternoon. Later tonight, a drunken semi-truck driver will jump the curb and careen through your bedroom wall, killing at least one person. If you happen to have a date, it'll be two. The driver will survive.

Taurus (April 20-May 20) -- Your church will burn down this week. There will be a massive financial drive to rebuild. You'll be expected to contribute, even though you'll lose your job tomorrow.

I know what you're thinking, those might be a little too specific. It's hard to believe that so many churches will burn down all at once, one for every person born under Taurus. Or that turkey farms will have such bad luck and those under Aquarius will bear the brunt. But maybe horoscopes are tailored only for those who actually read them. Meaning, if I don't read it the turkeys stay put? Which doesn't make much sense; how does a turkey know if I read the paper?

Probably our best horoscope writers have the right idea. Keep it so generalized it wouldn't really make much difference if you were Virgo or Capricorn. I'll try a few.

Gemini (May 21-June 20) -- Hold off on making any decisions, any decisions whatsoever, including the decision to follow this advice. It's going to be bad.

Cancer (June 21-July 22) -- Your horoscope looks so terrible today, I haven't got the heart to even tell you what it is. You have my sympathy in advance. Maybe pretend you're a different sign today. If it's any consolation, the problem doesn't have to do with turkeys.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22) -- I wouldn't get involved in what's coming up. Weapons may or may not come into play. He or she simply isn't worth it. End it, end it now, but remember, weapons may or may not come into play.

That's probably enough. I'll run it by a few syndicates and see if they want to publish it. It's very compelling. On a personal note, of course I'm a Capricorn. Both my parents are not just thought dead, they are dead. I was there when my dad died, but I took everyone's word for it that my mom died. Could it be? Is she suddenly going to show up, in serious trouble, perhaps massive debt. I need to go lock my doors.

Confidential to George in Syria -- You're part of a terrible struggle. You won't survive.

Bad Vibes -- My Intuitive Success

There's two titles that go great together, "Suspicious Minds" and "You'll Think of Me." Because when it comes to suspicious minds, I'm a good one to think of.

I have this terrible thing that happens to me, which in this case I present as an intuitive success, since I knew it would happen. The terrible thing is I have bad vibes leaping off me, occasionally, so obviously that the average person can see them, or at least discern them. And I must look incredibly suspicious.

Whenever it happens, I'm a little withdrawn for some reason. Like from the weather, or, worse for me, when my natural insecurities are at the fore. There are reasons for this, because sometimes I don't allow time for decompression following intense meditation. Or maybe my basketball team loses. Or the car's having trouble starting, etc. So I'm walking around, looking withdrawn, feeling inside like everything's cinched up.

I go to a store and I guess I look like trouble. Even though I'm a perfectly respectable person who would never do anything wrong. So it happened exactly like that tonight. I'm getting some deli food at the grocery store, then walking around the store with it. I'm looking for nothing in particular, just for something else to go with the meal but nothing looks good, so I look at odds with my surroundings. Invariably, and tonight it happened again, someone comes up to me out of the blue and says, "Are you finding everything OK?" Which I mentally predicted would happen; that's the intuitive success.

Then I'm walking to the cash register and the checkout lady looks like she's going to have to take me down, because I must really look like trouble approaching. The bad vibes, very angular, are ricocheting off the walls; I always wonder what it looks like to the average person; I really wonder what it'd look like to a psychic or someone who can see auras. Probably like a porcupine. Or an unpleasant entity floating over a cemetery. It's not a comfortable feeling, but still very interesting.

At the cash register, then, the cashier was unexpectedly (from her point of view) comforted when I flashed my "preferred customer" card, then it was obvious I was just a normal guy with an eccentric, undefinable approach.

The Pink Professor, my traveling/dining companion in this life, and I had a good conversation in the car afterward. With my intuitive success being something for me to brag about.