No turkey, but at least there’s Black Friday

I’ve been busy the past couple of months.

I think I’m at the end of a litany of ailments, all of which were more annoying than serious: First COVID, then shingles, then gout (yes, gout) in my foot, the latter caused by the change in diet. I decided to cut back on the  pastries and cream, and I’m recovering.  I’m not sure why the doctor gave me lots of anti-inflammatories but no medicine to treat the problem, so I’m going to another traumatólogo (orthopedist) on Monday.

My consulting project is going well, but I haven’t had a class to teach in a couple of months. The normal job notices are now for training AIs to teach English. I was offered such a position and refused, less because I didn’t want to train the enemy and more because ESL (Survival English) cannot be effectively taught by an AI. Grammar can be taught, and I’ve been using software to learn Catalan, but ESL is about communication and requires that one observe facial expressions and positions. So, my search for classes continues.

Fun with language: I decided to get a cane for when I can’t put pressure on my foot. First, I searched for a caña, which I didn’t know meant sugar cane, and then I was told to ask for una muleta. Now, una muleta sounds just like un amuleto, which is an amulet. For native Spanish speakers, the similarity is hysterically funny, I guess because it implies that I am treating my occasional limp with witchcraft. However, I am, after all, living in the land that hosted the Inquisition, so I guess I should be more cautious.

I read what I think is my favorite book of 2025, which is called What We Can Know. It’s written by a Brit named Ian McEwan, and it is a rare masterpiece. The style is classic and elegant, and although it takes place one hundred years in a dystopian future, it tells the story of a university professor’s years-long search for a lost poem recited at a dinner party in our time. It is a deeply human accounting of someone obsessively trying to recapture a romanticized past while his students defiantly declare that they’d rather learn about their future. I loved it from beginning to end.

One of my pleasures is watching the people while riding the subway (Metro). Almost every person is staring at his or her cell phone, even those standing. I am very utilitarian with my technology, and I find others’ desire to avoid making eye contact (or discomfort to do so) to be antisocial to the point of being inhuman.

Besides those traveling to a destination, there are those seeking money, such as musicians and beggars. The musicians are often quite good, and the beggars unfortunate; there’s one fellow I see frequently who holds his hands up and says “No tengo dedos” (I have no fingers) and pleads for money. I am saddened and sorely tempted to tell him, and the others, that nobody carries cash anymore, but I fear that it would come off gratuitous.

A Note:  After writing the word “beggar”, I decided to look up synonyms which might sound less Dickensian. My laptop’s AI gave me: mendicant, pauper, hobo and….bunny. Does the last one seem as odd to you as it does to me?

Someone showed me, as the resident American, a post explaining that Black Friday was so named in memory of a forced slave march. I replied that I found it highly unlikely that my countrymen would commemorate such a tragic event by convincing people to buy lots of crap they don’t need for half-price.

Happy Holidays.