Zodi’s Blog

Tougher than Bea Arthur on Steroids

When I first moved to this little Spanish village from Florida, I had the idea that I’d try to write a book. I also erroneously believed that I’d be able to do some painting on the side to make some money. I was shocked to discover that market was already cornered. Not by hardened Spanish men, no those men mostly toil in the fields all day. Actually they piss around in the fields for an hour or two, and then toil in the bars the rest of the day. The painting opportunities were all taken by rather old, actually elderly, woman. There are a couple groups of 50 to 70 year old women that paint for the princely sum of 50 Euros a day. A full day. An 8 hour day! I still can not believe my eyes when I look up a 40 ft. ladder and see ankle hose and blue hair.       


 First you have to remove the ‘grandma’  image from your mind. What you have to picture is the late, great Bea Arther after having spent a decade in prison, juicing up, power lifting and shiv fighting. 


They are a different breed of tough over here. These old girls are ‘Deadliest Catch’ tough. Actually I’m pretty sure that they pretty much own Alaskan crap fishermen in toughness, whether it’s a drinking contest, a bar fight, or a glass chewing competition.


The Spanish hate doctors. I mean really hate them. Most of the bingo brigade in this village has had broken a leg at some point and never gotten surgery. They have cavities and lose teeth, but will not go to a dentist.  They can’t see, but don’t get glasses (which makes it a lot of fun to drive!).  Then there is the fact that they have absolutely no qualms about staring, especially at strangers. It can all be pretty intimidating. If Javier Bardem came here looking for his drug money he would limp away crying. This is ‘No Country for French Men’.


These poor old matriarchs never ever stop working. They start cleaning the house at 6:00 am, and I mean spring cleaning. They scrub and polish every surface of the house; nothing gets missed or left out. They clean their house like a professional would detail a Bentley. They do all of the laundry by hand, and hang it out to dry, even in the winter. They cook every meal, wash every dish, and do all the shopping. They actually scrub the street in front of their houses. The street, the cement! They wear housedresses or aprons all day every day, even holidays. Why not, all they do is work. They work until they go to bed, they work nonstop. They are the only hard workers in Spain.


I was walking down the street the other day and saw a couple, both in their mid 80’s. The woman was strapped down like a fucking mule. She’s wearing a cloth harness, which acts as an oversized backpack, filled with almonds. This thing had to have weighed 40 pounds. Then she has a bag in EACH hand filled with vegetables. The douchbag husband is walking along right beside her with a piece of straw in his mouth like he’s Huck Finn on a Saturday afternoon. I wanted to punch the bastard but I was afraid his wife would drop the veggies and be on me like Whitney Houston on a carpet crumb.


The thing is, most of these ladies could lay the smack down on their mostly short, skinny, alcoholic husbands. They need a Chica Guevara! They need a Juanita Hoffa! The problem is every time I approach one of them to urge unionization, I end up in her house eating tapas and paella until I’m sick. Viva la Revolution!!


May 4, 2009 - Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , ,


  1. that IS tough

    Comment by Davis | May 4, 2009 | Reply

  2. Thanks Davis, I’m happy you enjoy!

    Comment by Scott Oglesby | May 4, 2009 | Reply

  3. Hey there
    Enjoyed you blog, and I have read a few of the other ones as well. Take a look at my blog: drmyers.wordpress.com; a tribute to Bea Arthur (http://drmyers.wordpress.com/2009/04/26/hey-we-looked-you-over-and-were-inspired-thanks-bea/).
    I’d love to dialog with you about perhaps placing a link there so my readers could take a look at what you’re doing.
    Again, keep up the suburb work!
    Aaron Myers

    Comment by drmyers | May 6, 2009 | Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: