Joke: A Visit to the Pope

This is something to think about when negative people are doing their best to rain on your parade. So remember this story the next time someone who knows nothing, and cares less, tries to make your life miserable.

A woman was at her hairdresser’s getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband. She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded:

—”Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It’s crowded and dirty. You’re crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?”

–-‘We’re taking Continental,’ was the reply. ‘We got a great rate!’

—‘Continental?’ exclaimed the hairdresser. ‘That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly , and they’re always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?’

—‘We’ll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome’s Tiber River called Teste.’

—‘Don’t go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it’s gonna be something special and exclusive, but it’s really a dump, the worst hotel in the city! The rooms are small, the service is surly, and they’re overpriced.‘

—‘So, whatcha doing when you get there?’

—‘We’re going to go to see the Vatican and we hope to see the Pope.’

—‘That’s rich,’ laughed the hairdresser. ‘You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant.  Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it.’

A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome .

—‘It was wonderful,’ explained the woman, ‘not only were we on time in one of Continental’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.  And the hotel was great! They’d just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it’s a jewel, the finest hotel in the city They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner’s suite at no extra charge!’

—‘Well,’ muttered the hairdresser, ‘that’s all well and good, but I know you didn’t get to see the Pope.’

—‘Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me.  Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me.’

—‘Oh, really! What‘d he say?’

—He said: ‘Where’d you get the crappy hairdo?

And the hairdresser remained silent like a clam.  Good Day.

Source:  Bits & Pieces

Blogged with the Flock Browser

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The Struggle With Life

If you have been following my posts, you already know that I have been visiting the Santa Ana Plaza and taking pictures of this antique and nostalgic area.  Several of these photographs have been displayed here.

During one of these visits, I went inside an old barber shop that was recently bought by my wife’s nephew.  The name of the barber shop is “Barbería Santa Ana” located diagonally to the Santa Ana Plaza.  This is an area where you have to keep your eyes wide open, because it’s adjacent to the slums of Santa Ana neighborhood, one of the dangerous red zones in Panama City.  By red zone, I mean an area of high crime rate.

Santa Ana is considered by many rap singers of Panama, a “ghetto”, associating the neighborhood with the ghettos of Poland during the Nazi occupation.  Many songs have been composed and sung regarding the poor conditions of these “ghettos” where the law of the gun imposes.

While I was inside the barber shop taking a few pictures of Edy, the barber, a tired looking man entered the building.  He walked in slow motion, as if the weight of his body was too heavy to carry.  He mumbled, “Buenos Días” (Good Morning) very softly, almost like a whisper.  Then, without saying anything else, he sat on the barber’s chair.

Edy immediately started to do his job with a pair of sharp scissors, combs and  an electric hair cutting machine.  The man just sat there.  His body was there, but his mind was somewhere else.  There was no sparkle in his eyes, as if he had turned off the lights of his soul.  He stared at nowhere, immersed in his own deep thoughts.  The whole expression of his face was that of a defeated man fighting some kind of inner demons.

He had deep wrinkles on his forehead, like scars left behind after a heavy struggle with life.  Even though he did not looked  old, he was loosing hair on the front part of his head.  I couldn’t take my eyes off his face; he looked so beaten up and sad.  In a certain way, it reminded me of Roberto Duran when he said, “No más, no más” during his fight with Sugar Ray Leonard.  This man was telling life, “no más, no más”—no more, no more.

I asked if I could take a picture of him and he just nodded.  I think he tried to smile, but the smile resisted to come out.  Maybe smiling was not part of his personality, or he was too tired to smile.  I took his picture.

This is how Edy’s customer looked like that cool Sunday morning at Plaza Santa Ana. Here we go.

Photograph of the sad man who entered the barber shop to have his hair cut one cool Sunday morning in Panama City, Panama. (Credit: Omar Upegui R.)

The city has many faces, this is one of them.  Good Day.

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Photograph of the Day: Top of the World

(Credit: Pizdaus, The House of Pics We Like)

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