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When not even the Earth swallows us

Hello neighbors! The Earth, which has been the planet on which we live, that round slightly flattened at the poles, has a character that is often surly and very much its own. For example: it does not swallow you when you beg it, but when it comes out of the turnip to the Earth even if at that moment nothing is good for you.

There was a time when the individuals and individuals that make up the human race were capable of wishing, with all their might, that the Earth swallow them up. Suddenly, without warning, gronfl. It happened when the human being became fully aware of having screwed up but well – by thought, word, deed or omission, or in all four ways at the same time – and the only thing to save face was based on crying out to the Cosmos: ‘! Earth swallow me!’. The Earth did not swallow you. I’d leave you there with your big shit on display for your blush, shame, and contrition. ‘I’ll swallow you -thought the Earth- when I get the hang of swallowing you. In the meantime: suffer, sucker.

By undervaluing values ​​such as respect, discretion, humility, that so essential of trying not to be slaves of our words and instead becoming masters of our silences, we hardly even implore the Earth to swallow us up in a situation of roaring embarrassment. We become arrogant, pretentious, mouth flip-flops, with license to be absent and we are convinced that, if the Earth has to swallow someone, it is others. To oneself, never.

I declare myself a champion of ‘Earth, swallow me!’ Philip of Edinburgh, the consort of Queen Elizabeth II of England, made a real art out of verbal gaffe but, as misfortunes laughed at him, his own cache of loudmouths brought it to him. As far as he knows, he wasn’t quite ready to be swallowed up by the Earth, although I’m sure the queen put him down on more than one occasion. I do, I would have paid to make chás and for the Earth to do yum.

By undervaluing values ​​such as respect, discretion, humility, we hardly even implore the Earth to swallow us up in a situation of clamorous embarrassment.

I treasure three glorious moments of wanting to disappear ipso facto. I have others, but these three still eat me up. One: the territorial delegate of the ONCE (National Organization for the Blind) asks that you go see him in his office to deal with matters related to protocol and communication. I am delighted. They accompany me to the office, located on a high floor, with large windows overlooking the Ebro River. And, upon entering, the first thing I say through this little mouth is:

-Joér, what spectacular views you have from here!

-Yes, they tell me a lot -the ONCE territorial delegate tried to throw me a cape-. Although I pass, I am blind.

Two: the Diario de Barcelona sends me to cover a press conference. The person appearing was a black man. We see him arrive and he greets those who waited for him. But he apologizes to go away for a few minutes because he is a little indisposed. The journalists wish him that he recovers. Everyone? Not all of them. There is one, myself, who says out loud:

-No, if it is already noticed that it does not have a very good color.

The color! To a black! Can you be more stupid? And three: I am waiting for three dancers who are to participate in a textile design parade as models, through dance. They come and show up:

-Here we are, we’re going to change and we’ll be right back.

“But weren’t there three of you?” I ask point blank.

-Yes three. Look: one, two and three. Three. The agreed.

I only got two. One and two. But there were three. Two dancers, models and even Miss Sidereal Universe if they had wanted. And a normal, short one, clutching a backpack with her things. The normal one looked at me with the face of: ‘I swear I dance too, I’m the three, unpresentable bitch’. She turned out to be the best dancer.

I’ve managed to act like a hunk with the disabled, with blacks and with women. Let’s see who improves that. Well, like Philip of Edinburgh, yes. Julia Otero confessed the other day to Jordi Évole her most terrible ‘Earth swallow me!’ She did an interview with Rosa Díez, then Minister of Tourism of the Basque Government. The interviewee spoke of the immense variety of attractions of a small country…

“But bully,” Julia Otero said live on TV. ‘But bully’! Without complexes promoting tourism in the Basque Country, ole and ole. Julia Otero still turns red when she remembers it and she sees that years have passed since then.

The Earth will swallow us sooner or later, no doubt. And, the fewer times we have wanted it before, the better. For our own good.

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