SLEEPLESS IN HAVANA

Well, not quite yet, but soon...

Did I mention that we're going to Cuba?  I may have done.  If so, forgive the lapse of memory.  I have a horror of becoming one of those old bores who repeats his stories endlessly.

But yes, we are going.  We have signed up for a group tour sponsored the Mural Conservancy of Los Angeles and organized by my old friend Al Nodal; we'll be accompanied (and led?  Not sure how this works) by another old friend, Kent Twitchell, one of the pioneer muralists of Los Angeles and a former student from my days as Dean at Otis Art Institute.  We leave Sunday morning for Miami and Monday for Havana, and will be gone for eight days.

I'm excited.  I have often wondered how it would be to visit this island where time seems to have stopped, in many ways, in the fifties.  Along with many other old lefties, I'm sure, I was semi-seduced by the dual myths of Fidel and Che--and certainly appalled by the absurd U.S. embargo that has persisted now for, what, nearly half a century.  Inspired only by the knee-jerk fear of "socialism" (shudder!) or, worse, Communism, and fanatically pursued thanks to a relative handful of bitter and resentful right-wing Cuban exiles, it has lasted this long--in my own estimation--only because of the undue political importance of Florida in national elections.  It's past time to lift that embargo and allow the free flow of goods and tourist traffic from the States to stimulate the small nation's economy.  Ah, if wishes were fishes...

Anyway, yes, we are going to Cuba.  I'm finding that the older I get, the sooner I start to prepare for departure.  Which explains the sleeplessness of my title.  I was awake at 3 o'clock this morning, my mind obsessed with the details of packing, counting t-shirts, remembering the chargers for the laptop and iPad, checking toothpaste and disposable razors.  Could not get my brain to turn off and get back to sleep...

And it's still five days to Sunday.  If you count today.