Night Life in Costa Rica

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So, here’s the truth.  When eavesdropping on after-dark conversations taking place on nearby balconies becomes a pass-time, you know you have reached a new low on the spectrum of creative entertainment. You might as well also admit that you have achieved new heights on the scale of abject boredom.

But, guess what?  It can happen. Even in Costa Rica where everyone seems to be in a party mood. Peals of laughter bouncing from pillar to post. Laughter the order of the day.  Close encounters the order of the night. Everyone all coupled up. It’s down right depressing.  Where do these people get off……….all this gaiety and frivolity!

Don’t they know what a mess this world is in? Don’t they ‘get’ how tangled a web we’ve woven for ourselves? Well, actually, m-a-y-be they do. Maybe that’s precisely why they’re here. Doing what they are doing. Letting it all go. Maybe they do remember what a bunch of crap there is in our world, our lives, their lives. And, maybe this is their way to forget it all. Take a sabbatical. Just step back and forget it.

Well, you know what? I think I can sign on for that strategy. I didn’t bring my magic eraser to Costa Rica with me this time. The one that rubs out all the problems of the world. But, next time. The next time I come down here, I do not plan to sit in the dark on my balcony grabbing portions of conversations which float through the air and only serve to depress me anyway. I plan to come as a participant. Not an observer.

Yeah, that’s it. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll just up and go join them. I’ll just trot right over to those balcony parties on the ground floors and I’ll just let ‘em know I’m happy to be joining them.  Then smile. Smile big. Try to make them think I’m a party guy.  (Of course, I’d rather crash the 2nd or 3rd floor balconies but I’d need a 40’ extension ladder for one thing, and I don’t do ladders).

Anyway, I gotta find a way to fit in with this new crowd right away. Like quick. Because, at this point people are staring at me. Wondering “where did this joker come from” ? And that joker reference got me to thinking (since I knew what they were thinking).

Since all these people do at these balcony parties is laugh, laugh, laugh, I’ll just whip out a couple of my guaranteed-to-get-a-big-laugh jokes. Then they’ll think I’m cool.  You know. Maybe even invite me to join the party. So now that I’ve got this new strategy of ’no more eavesdropping”,  I figure I’ve gotta get serious. About being a jokester.

So, I thought and I thought. Running through my inventory of funny stories. I quickly identified 3 or 4 that would most likely pass the muster of ‘not totally obscene’ and would be safe for a liberated crowd of occasionally foul-mouthed adults. But there was a problem.

Each time I repeated one of these jokes in my head, I laughed so hard my eyes leaked and my stomach hurt. I was cracking myself up so much I decided “Who needs it?.”

I don’t have to crash a party of unknowns. I can sit here on my own balcony, ignoring those other balcony conversations and totally make myself laugh so hard I cry. Actually, none of my top ten jokes would have cut the mustard anyway for so much as a “PG-14” rating.

So, …oops…Wait! I think I just heard something. It’s starting to sound like a bedtime conversation over on the 3rd floor balcony, in the building over to the right of me.  Wow, things are getting serious over there.

Sorry, I gotta cut this short. More later.

So you think you know Spanish????

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OK, so here’s the deal. Just when you think you’ve almost arrived at that Golden Gate Bridge which takes you over that crevice of the language barrier between English and Spanish, here’s what happens to snap you back to the real world.

You sit on your balcony, overlooking the pool below, and it occurs to you that you are not the only one who enjoys the same vantage point. To wit, there are other similarly situated condos facing the same pristine view.

The down side to this is that with four buildings forming a quadrangle with the pool in the center, there is a tad of an echo effect on those rare occasions when there are numerous condos occupied at the same time.

On this particular evening, when the occupancy of these buildings has swelled to near maximum capacity, and a party mood prevails, I am shaken back to the reality that the Spanish I thought I knew is little more than pure fantasy.

Now, granted, I can manage to pretty much figure out how to say what I need to convey to get where I need to go and get what I need to purchase. But, listening in on a group of Ticos all chattering simultaneously.  It is pure madness.

You get a dozen Costa Ricans ALL talking at the same time and it is like trying to make a sentence out of alphabet soup in a blender. We’re talkin’ pure mush here. It’s not unlike an orchestra tuning up just prior to performing a symphony.  If only one of them would speak at a time, slowly mind you, I might, that is MIGHT, be able to catch most of it provided the speech was slow and distinct. But, you get all 12 of them yapping at the same time somewhere close to ninety miles an hour.  It’s like a a half dozen Beatles records being played backwards simultaneously.

I’m amazed even THEY can comprehend what is being said, shouted, sung, or whatever. This is when I realized, that the Spanish I thought I knew…well, it’s right up there with the Latin I aced in high school and promptly forgot the day I graduated.  Or the French I thought I learned in college. Mystery mush.

So, just about the time you get a tiny bit cocky thinking you’re just a little bit cool because you thought you’d “gotten it” in another language….come on down to Playas del Coco and see what really goes down when you eavesdrop on the native speakers.

It might be just enough to send you packin’with your tail between your legs. REALMENTE!

My Brief Career as a Musician’s Agent

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Tammy at home in Costa Rica

Being in a foreign land, a different culture where the language can be mysterious (even to those of us who’ve attempted to learn it), where the money is colorful and adorned with the exotic icons of local flora and fauna …  being far from home and out of your comfort zone can render you either greatly intimidated or uncharacteristically bold. Sometimes both.

Like the other afternoon.  I was with my special peeps Monte and Tammy from Bozeman, MT chillin’ at a joint named Coconutz, one of the local hotspots in downtown Coco, chowing down fish tacos and tossing back some cerveza and vino.

During their last trip here, the one that straddled Christmas and the New Year, Tammy had been invited by the owner to perform on stage at Coconutz during their next (this) trip. She does a three set gig playing the acoustic/electric guitar and singing like, well you name any of the outrageously popular female vocalists you hear on tour these days, and there you have it. She is dynamite.

Unfortunately, it turns out that Dan, the owner who was to confirm the gig, ended up being out of the country during our stay in Costa Rica this trip.  So the arrangements for Tammy to perform were down the tubes. Learning this during our mid-afternoon lunch and early happy hour, I could see the disappointment settling over her. Like the shadow that creeps across the land when thick, dark clouds drift between the sun and the earth. It’s like that with soul-mates. You kinda feel what they feel. You read their thoughts as though they were your own. I just hated the idea that she had so much emotional investment in having this opportunity, her first performance in Costa Rica, and…boom. Gone. The thing she had so looked forward to…evaporated right here on the front end of our stay in Coco.

So, in a rare moment of chivalry, I said to her this…  I said “Tammy darlin’ just don’t you worry. I’ll get you another gig here in town. You just wait and see sweetie-pie. I’ll be your agent. Nobody’s gonna pull the rug from under my Tammy-girl and get off Scot-free.”

“Oh, it’s OK”, she said somewhat down heartedly. “I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.” But, it wasn’t OK. Not with any of us. Not really.

Now, I’m not sure what the Hell I was thinking. I simply knew there must be some way we could square this insult. Erase this disappointment. Restore that excitement Tammy had felt during the preceding weeks in anticipation of this now lost opportunity to do what she loves most: entertain crowds from center stage with her musical prowess.

Emboldened now, by a few more libations, a little voice from inside began to chat me up. You know, convince me that I had a mission.  That I had a responsibility and needed to answer this, this call to action. So as we strolled along Coco’s main drag (OK it’s only drag), “the voice” whispered to me: “Woody’s“.

Woody’s is one of the other most popular restaurant/bars in Playas del Coco. The main competitor with Coconutz. It’s owned by a guy named Woody (duh). He’s an American ex-pat who along with his Filipino wife, Rochelle, manage this and several other establishments in Costa Rica.

As we approached the restaurant, I could see Rochelle behind the bar. That’s because it’s one of these places that you’re inside but outside at the same time. You know, covered but without true exterior walls. Kind of an open air type of deal. So as we strolled in, I quite boldly made a bee-line over to Rochelle saying, “Rochelle…we gotta talk!” Then with a simultaneous wagging of my index finger, one of those come hither gestures, I drew her to the end of the bar and said, “You see that beautiful blonde my main man Monte and I came in with?” Quick glance and a slight nod from Rochelle.

“Well she is a performer out of Bozeman, MT and they live here part-time. You wanna set some new records for food and beverage sales in here? Then you gotta get her on your stage for the happy hour and dinner crowd. She’ll pack the house!”

Tammy at home in Bozeman, MT

Rochelle gave me one of those “yeah, right” looks and said, “Jimbo, you’re gonna have to talk to Woody. He’ll be here in a minute.”

Sure enough, out of nowhere, Woody steps up to the bar.  I repeat my spiel. Amazingly enough, after a very brief chat among the four of us, bam! Woody agreed to a Friday & Saturday night gig for Tammy and they quickly negotiated a verbal contract which, truth be told, exceeded what I think any of the three of us expected was possible. Especially since Woody was clueless about Tammy’s musical abilities and there was never so much as a hint about an audition.

So there we were. Now basking in a renewed glow of anticipation. Recharged with the excitement of Tammy’s debut performance here in a foreign land. There was only one thing to do: celebrate our success in booking a gig that would give Tammy the opportunity to experience that joy which comes from thrilling a crowd, from putting smiles on a sea of faces, from making people happy due to the harmonious effect that well performed music has in bringing people together.

Whew! What more could a musician’s novice agent hope for his first day on the job?

A Word about Friends  

Yesterday, my first day back in Costa Rica, was a touching and joyful reminder of what friends mean in the course of our lives. 

First, there were the emails I received from friends who were compelled to respond to my “morning musings” blog. Some were in fun, reminding me of the benefic qualities humor can have in relationships. I have always believed that humor is the Vaseline of social intercourse and that to laugh is to love. How one can get through this life without humor is a mystery that defies solution from where I stand.

Some replies were in such sincere earnest that they brought tears to my eyes, reminding me that there is a unique bond between true friends who may not have had much contact of late, but share such a deep and abiding closeness that time and distance are powerless to create a feeling of separateness. 

Some of those friends wrote that my thoughts of yesterday morning actually gave them pause…a reason to reflect and even served as a trigger to ponder and re-evaluate their own responses to certain situations and life experiences. 

I suppose this, more than anything, caught me by surprise. Clearly, that response was completely unanticipated and was a totally unintended consequence of my musings. But, it reinforced my recognition that friends can and do have both accidental as well as purposeful effects on one another. 

Friends share their feelings and talk with each other about their wants, needs, hopes and fears. They laugh together and sometimes cry together. Such sharing has the effect of  helping to create balance and structure in life. The giving and receiving of feedback provides guideposts and direction which keep us on the right track as we move along life’s journey. It is this interdependence that is the thread from which strong friendships are woven.

Last night I was invited by a small group of friends to join them for dinner at a little beach front restaurant in Playa Hermosa. Nearly a year had gone by since we had last seen each other. But when we met, it was as though not a single day had passed since our last visit. We picked up right where we left off in the Spring of 2012 and the ease of conversing, relating and sharing underscored the notion that real friendships endure the voids and chasms of physical separation.

Tonight, at the airport in Liberia, I will collect my friends who are arriving from Bozeman, MT. It is their stunningly beautiful residence that I have been enjoying since my arrival here.  That I have been given the keys to their kingdom to use as though it were my own is the literal expression of “mi casa es su casa”. I will be moving to my own abode in a couple of days once my tenants have vacated. But in the meantime we will live like a family, because that is what we are.

True friends like these, and those to whom I’ve previously alluded, are the cornerstone in the building of life. It is the construction of such relationships that pave the road for the walk we all have to take.  May all those who read this walk in peace! Namaste!

 As this is my first stay in Costa Rica since I lost my wife to cancer last year, it admittedly feels strange to be here alone in a place we spent so much time living life to its fullest.  Although I feel that I’ve reached that stage of grieving where I can now dwell on the good times we enjoyed for so long instead of the anger and pain of loosing her, it is the kind of monumental loss that leaves a permanent scar on one’s psyche. The task of processing all that was and coming to grips with the present reality is a long and arduous journey. Some of my thoughts about that journey are reflected in the following passage on this, my first morning back, in the other place we called home.

A Morning Meditation in Costa Rica 

Sitting here on this vast flagstone pool deck in Playas del Coco overlooking the Pacific Ocean, the solitude punctuated by the chirps, whistles, songs and squawks of exotic, colorful birds, my thoughts glance off the shimmering surface of the infinity edge pool and come to rest somewhere out there at the end of the ocean.

Some 1,500 feet below, Coco Bay lies, quietly dotted with the white specks of sleeping boats tethered to moorings which maintain order. Mountains, rugged and brown from the effects of the dry season, rise from the beach as a reminder that in spite of this peacefulness, it is a harsh world in which there are an infinite variety of challenges great and small we all must endure from time to time.

Among those obstacles, the loss of what or who we value is one inescapable injustice each of us must face at one time or another. It may be the loss of a job, a loved one, a friend, one’s own good health, or simply the depression that springs from the loss of one’s faith in the basic goodness of fellow human beings.

Whatever the source of the grief that follows loss, the challenge is the same. Although it is helpful and normally required, the love and support of those around you is only part of the equation in navigating the waters of personal turmoil.  For ultimately, the key for unlocking the solution for recovery from significant loss lies somewhere deep inside of you.  Finding that key requires looking for it.

Discovery of the answer demands introspection, review, self analysis, and forgiveness. There is no acceptance of the status quo unless the anger, guilt, regret and blame are released.  Letting go of the past and focusing on the “now” means in-sourcing.  It means drawing on your strengths and assuming responsibility for your future. It is choosing to take charge of your life and the direction it takes. It is steering the boat instead of letting it drift aimlessly. It is deciding that finding that new job, that new relationship, that happiness, or whatever it is you have lost is your responsibility and that it is up to you and you alone to create the outcome that you desire.

If, this morning, I sound like I’ve been vaccinated by some self-help guru then so be it. The irony is that I’ve always avoided such books, yet here I am spewing forth what are probably similar preachings. However, what inspired these musings was a Delta airlines commercial they played on the plane yesterday. I’d seen it on TV before, but for some reason, it stuck with me more this time than ever before.

It was a commercial which exploited the various usage of the word “UP” because as the commercial says “Delta is in the business of “UP”.  One of the many examples of the uses of this key word was “when we fall down, we get UP”. And, I thought, you know what?  They are exactly right. And that’s the thought that was still with me when I woke UP this morning.

So there you have it. I hope this little essay doesn’t make my best friend back in Venice throw UP.  I can hear him now saying “Jimmy you are completely full of shit!”

He may be right, but I think I am UP for his challenge. :)

Leaving Pacifico

The Trek from Playas del Coco, Costa Rica to Bozeman, Montana ….Twenty Dozen (Get it…2012)

Our Pacifico Beach Club

After living in Costa Rica from early November 2011 through early May, 2012, the time had finally come to leave it all behind and begin our journey back to the USA and our trek from South Florida to the North West corner of the good ole United States of America.  Yes, it was slightly sad to be leaving Costa Rican friends as well as our gorgeous surroundings at Pacifico and our beautiful Pacifico Beach Club but the anticipation of reuniting with old friends and family members whom we had not seen for many months far outweighed the any regrets about leaving Playas del Coco for a few months.  You can check out condo details at http://www.allcostaricarentals.com/pacifico-lifestyle-1313

Our "Front Yard"

Of course, preparing for our departure from our condo at Pacifico became about the same level of difficulty as scaling Mt. Everest in a straight jacket.  First there was the dubiously brilliant decision to remove the bedroom carpet in favor of tile and then paint our bedroom and bath during that final week in residence.  The flooring portion of this episode went fine after 8 trips to the city of Liberia 30 miles away to acquire the materials, then a few more trips to acquire the correct materials.  But the painting…well, not so fine.  With inferior tools and poor quality paint (poor quality paint and tools were our only option), the job became infinitely more challenging than winning the US Open Golf Championship at Augusta.

Add to that the saga of the car inspection whereupon it became clear that it would be simpler just to drive it into the Pacific Ocean where it could become a reef to shelter giant grouper and red snappers.  You see, one of the many trials and tribulations of life in Costa Rica is that your car must be inspected in a certain month, which in our case was, of course, a month when we would not be in the country.  Then there was the rock which chipped our windshield which would have to be replaced before the inspection could be done.  With only days left for us to remain in Costa Rica, it was apparent that our problem was basically insurmountable.  Or to put it another way…we were screwed.

With only a couple of days left before departing the condo our dear friends, Macha and Sary,  in San Jose called and insisted we bring our car to them, leave it in the underground parking garage at their hotel while we’re away and they would get the windshield fixed and the inspection completed in our absence.  Proof positive that angels do exist!

Only in Costa Rica

OK, I know we've been here in Playas del Coco for nearly six months and I've been ridiculously remiss in furthering my musings about life here, but, the fact is, I've become infected with the Costa Rican Way.  Which is to say...."manana".....literally meaning "tomorrow", however, in pratice meaning: "not today".

Nevertheless, as we wind down for our return to the USA and a summer of cross country travels, I wanted to submit the following, brief look at what I believe typifies true Costa Rican proficiency.  It starts with massive preparation for the first annual Coco Beach Brawl, a boxing ring like promotion by professional and amateur fighters who use fists, feet, elbows and heads as weapons in an effort to break bones and extract blood from their opponents.  

Promotion of the big event is handled by distribution of colorful fliers throughout the area and on the internet.

Security for the event is actually the topic at hand and the following photo (please study it carefully) documents "the Costa Rican Way".

Pictured here are the 3 special security guards hired for the long awaited Coco Beach Brawl.   The officers shown here were brought in from San Jose and are considered to be some of the best and brightest on the security guard landscape.  They are being featured here because they are a testament to the skills developed through Costa Rican training and the depth of thought that prevails throughout the country.  

One has to wonder why the guy in the middle has his rifle aimed directly at the head of the guy on the right.  And, why does the guy on the right have his gun stashed in his pants aiming directly at his, er...ah..., shall we say, private parts.  Is he being forced to blow his balls off by the guy in the middle?  Or, is the guy in the middle threatening him in an effort to stop a suicide by castration.  This would be the more likely scenario as it is a sterling example of the Costa Rican way of thinking.  The way to stop a guy from killing himself is.....well...... you threaten to kill him.  

But, of course, this says nothing about the guy on the left.  You will note, his gun is holstered. Some might even say...properly.   However, his trickery fails to go unnoticed for we have good information that he is holding a large knife behind his back which is his way of keeping both of the other guys in line and making each of them afraid to pull the triggers on their guns, thus disproving the long standing wisdom that one should never take a knife to a gunfight.  Welcome to Costa Rica amigos!!!

Life's a Beach in Costa Rica

It's mid-January in Costa and the main activity is heading to one of the zillions of beaches lining the Pacific Coast. Although often hard to decide which beach to hit, there is no danger that once you're there, you'll wish you had chosen a different one!

Following are a few photos from recent trips to Playa Zapotilla and Playa Pinca.  Both offer strips of creamy sand and volcanic rock formations which make for some great snorkeling.  With scenery like this, any words to accompany the photos just get in the way.  So this is where I'll stop yakking and you can start viewing. Pura Vida!!!

Our Pacifico Condo

The "River Pool" at Pacifico

Welcome to our Pacifico Penthouse in Paradise. The purpose of this blog entry is to introduce our home to those in Costa Rica or elsewhere who may be interested in a home exchange for a week or more.  For more information about this gated community along with tons of photos, videos and descriptions go to www.Pacifico-CostaRica.com .  There you can see the buildings, grounds and amenities that make living here so special.

We are in Playas del Coco, a very small town on the Northwest coast of Costa Rica where the beach is protected by the Pappagallo Peninsula.  A village where fishing and tourism are king, Coco boasts one main street lined with restaurants, bars and souvenir shops.  This is one of the few coastal villages in the Guanacaste province that offer amenities such as banks, grocery stores, and a wide array of professional services. In addition, there are numerous adventure trips for fishing, diving, zip lining, hiking, and sight seeing...just to name a few.

We enjoy a 1,200 sq/ft top floor unit with central air conditioning, one bedroom, one large bathroom with walk-in closet and a washer/dryer included.  The kitchen is fully equipped with granite countertops, a center island/breakfast bar, side-by-side refrigerator/freezer, glass top stove, microwave, dish washer, disposal, clothes washer & dryer and loads of cabinet space.  With the cookware and accessories in our kitchen, a gourmet chef would feel right at home.

There are flatscreen TV's with DVD players in the living room and bedroom and the unit includes a high speed, secure WiFi internet connection.

The extra large balcony includes a stainless steel barbeque grill, dining table and 4 chairs, and a complete living room set of love seat, 2 large matching chairs, coffee table and end tables along with indirect lighting to maximize your outdoor night time living and entertaining.

As you can see from the Pacifico website ( www.Pacifico-CostaRica.com ), the amenities are truly 5 star quality and the 24/7 security is the best around.  The pools and landscaping on the grounds are incredibly beautiful and the Pacifico Beach Club is directly on the ocean with 2 pools, a gymnasium and fabulous restaurant and bar which features live entertainment on weekends.

Playas del Coco is only 25 minutes from the Daniel Oduber International Airport (LIR) just west of the city of Liberia, Costa Rica.  For inquiries regarding a possible home exchange please email us with information about your situation at: email4Jim@Yahoo.com.

The View from our Balcony

Outdoor Living Room

Outdoor "Kitchen" and Dining Table

Living Room

Living Room

Breakfast Bar

Kitchen

Bathroom

Bedroom

Computer Workstation

Geri's Rainbow

Balcony Dining Table

Balcony Living Area

Are You Smarter than a Groundhog?

The question in that headline is one I’ve been asking myself for over 2 long years.  Sadly, my answer has been a resounding NO.  That’s right, a big fat NO…NO How…NO way…in capital letters.

This sorrowful saga actually began over five years ago, immediately upon moving into our North Carolina home on a wooded mountainside in south Asheville.  It was while we were still unpacking that Geri first noticed not one, but two, fat and playful groundhogs peeking around the corner of our front deck.

As most people know, a groundhog and a woodchuck are one and the same…thus the names Geri bestowed upon them…Chuckie I and Chuckie II.  She thought they were cute and truly entertaining as they (in Geri’s parlance) “played hide and seek” with her throughout the day.  It was, however, an opinion which would prove to be quickly reversible as this pair of critters began wreaking havoc with all things green and rooted in soil.

As it turns out, groundhogs are seriously destructive.  Not only do they have an insatiable appetite for all varieties of vegetation, potted plants, and whatever grows in a garden, they can quickly undermine the structural integrity of a building by burrowing large, lengthy tunnels and cavernous spaces under the concrete slab upon which the building sits.  It was this latter practice which brought about my declaration of war.  A war that spanned 2 plus years …a battle of wits which I am ashamed to admit I lost repeatedly no matter the sophistication of my strategies nor the technical ingenuity of my tactics.

With cunning calculus I attempted to ward off both Chuckies by creating an annoying environment.  I mounted a wind chime at the entrance to their cave under our foundation.  I created other noise making devices hoping the unpleasantness of their surroundings would drive them away in search of a more peaceful abode.  I tried introducing mothballs to their cozy environs with the hope if noise did not repel them, unnatural odors might.

When those methods, among others,  failed, I labored ceaselessly to construct barriers designed to preclude entrance to the underside of my home‘s foundation.  With each contrivance more elaborate than its predecessor, my frustration grew as time after time I consistently suffered defeat at their paws of persistence.  

Driven nearly to distraction by the two Chuckies, I could not accept that I was being habitually outsmarted by these demons of destruction.  My sanity was becoming fragile and my mental health was at stake.  I had to find a way to defeat them.  I was becoming completely obsessed and could think of little else.  When I could sleep, I even dreamed of the ongoing battle and how I might one day outsmart these destructive monsters.

Finally, I stumbled upon the idea of employing a live animal trap…a heavy duty wire cage, baited with food to attract the offending animal, and equipped with a trap door that quickly shuts and locks once the animal steps inside to retrieve the food.  Once captured, the animal can be relocated unharmed to a habitat well away from the site of their original malfeasance.  Problem solved!  Simple….right?  Not so much.

OK, it’s true that getting Chuckie #1 into the trap and relocated was a piece of cake.  I’ll admit that my success only hours after purchasing and staging the Hav-a-hart trap rendered me smug.  I was gloating in the glory of my victory.  Now all I had to do was get set for a repeat performance and…bingo.  Chuckie no mas!!!

Little did I know that the second Chuckie’s observation of my capturing Chuckie #1 would have a lasting and profound effect on #2.  What I thought would be a simple matter turned out to be a series of vexations that would make the trials and tribulations of the preceding two years seem like child’s play.  My attempts to get Chuckie #2 out of the picture began one of my most harrowing experiences to date.  Indeed, this ordeal may have been most frustrating experience of my entire life.

Satisfied that the Hav-a-hart trap was my best strategy for the ensuing war, I tried for weeks to entice Chuckie #2 to take the bait.  But NO !!! There was absolutely, positively nothing that would do the trick.  I could have put a winning lottery ticket in there…a certificate for an all expenses paid trip to Woodchuck Wonder World… fresh fruits and scrumptious veggies…nothing worked.  He had been sensitized and he was not to be seduced.  With each ensuing failure, I began to fear the mounting evidence was clear.  I could not outsmart Chuckie II.  The damage to my psyche was indescribable.  My feelings of inferiority were so profound, I would have sought psychiatric help had my deductible not been so outrageously high as to make my health insurance policy useless.

So, I had no choice.  I had to regroup.  I had to think.  Surely this little…OK, not so little… good for nothing plant pilfering, foundation fouling, obnoxious, intellectually infuriating beast could not get the best of me ad infinitum…could he?!?!

Mustering all my mental resources, I realized I had to DE-SENSITIZE Chuckie II regarding the food baited trap.  Thus began my program of placing enticing food, not in, but in the area and well away from the cage.  Gradually, the food was placed closer, then still closer until Chuckie decided there was no harm associated with getting close to the trap.

With persistence that surpasses the dedication to complete a Ph.D. in nuclear physics, I eventually got my boy Chuckie to eat from the top, the front, and the rear of this now familiar, do-nothing cage.  The door, after all, had been kept shut during these days-upon-days of “training”.

At last, I fixed the door to the trap in the open position, but secured it so Chuckie could not trigger it when he finally entered the cage to receive his reward.  Once he was comfortable coming inside and experiencing no negative consequences, the day had arrived to allow the door to slam shut.

It was, perhaps, one of the crowning glories and most major achievements of my life to date when I heard the bang of the Hav-a-hart trap door securing Chuckie II for his ride to his new home, miles away on the other side of the French Broad River where, with his mamouth mental skills, he would surely find his pal, Chuckie I, in short order.  And for me, I could, for the first time in a long, long time, retire for the evening secure in the knowledge that I was…smarter than a groundhog.  Glory Be!!!