There is a place I call Chulajuana. It is equal distance between the 32nd st. Naval Base in San Diego and a place I often call home south of Rosarito in Baja California - Messico.
(it is really Chula Vista, really Mexico and my adopted neice's shack on a place above Bajamar) Well I obsconded with some drywall and plywood from Pedro's jobsite in Chulajuana, he is an illegal that leads a crew of demolition boys in work here in California that us white boys won't do. Anyhow it was to make a porch on the shack above the ocean where they filmed most of that movie about the Titanic. Well I brought old Bessie (that is my laptop - actually an older version) Juan and Jaunita - really their names - walked down the road to get some fruit and Jaime, or you can call him Jimmy, was playing some Vietnamese music on Bessie and trying to read my email.
Well I'll be damned the boy ran accross some job listing stuff from ICANN. He always asks me "por que no trabajo para espousa" His eight year old way of saying why I do not have more money for my wife. Well what the heck! I threw him and Bessie in my caddy that is older than me, put the pedal to the medal and wound up in MDR a short two hours later and asked at the door about a job. What was I thinking? No one knew nothing about any stinking jobs. Much less was there any handsome guy saying we don't need no stinking badges. That is a Sierra Madre Bogart irony for you young people.
Well thank goodness Disneyland was next door so we went and rode in teacups from something about the MadHatter. Even Jaime got the joke that you could get a ticket to ride on a wonderland amusement thing but could not talk to anyone at the corporation that supposedly governs the Internet.
Funny that I could of applied on line from a dirt shack in an ejido in Mexico but I could not walk up to anyone to apply for a job. Yes I think they could use an ombudsman.
Oh you think I am joking?????