Close, But No Che-gar

Whenever I go roaming from home, I'm on the lookout for Che.

In Hawaii, my mission was no different.

However, after nine days on the Big Island, I didn't spot my Che.

But I did run across a life-size version of his good buddy, Fidel. For this trip, I guess he'll have to suffice.

The Magnetic Pull of Che

My Che-loving bud, Jen, and I met up again this week. This time in honor of my birthday.

She produced a brightly-wrapped present tied with a spring-green ribbon and when I opened it, I found -- surprise surprise -- a Che-themed gift.

The "Create-A-Commie" is one of those faces printed on a flat, magnetic panel enclosed in a thin plastic box that you're supposed to decorate with magnetic "hair." The makers of this particular toy encourage you to give your skills a go at recreating the face of a famous communist.

Out of all the commies named -- Gorby, Castro, Lenin, Marx, Brezhnev and Trotsky -- Che is the only one given the distinction of a definitive article.

We, of course, noticed this right away. He is not just any Che. He is "the" Che. As if there were any other.

And yet, in looking over the complete packaging, I couldn't help but notice that one very significant commie was left off the list: Mao.

Considering the toy was "Made in China" I can't help but wonder whether this was simply an oversight or a conscious decision.

Chillin with Che in the Big Easy

So I made it to "Nola." That's New Orleans, Louisiana.

Luckily I'm not here alone. My good buddy Che is -- of course -- here keeping me company.

I was so excited to have spotted my Che so early on in my Louisiana trip that I almost didn't notice the verbiage on the sign.

I certainly hope the store owners aren't implying that Che is a "Killer."

I'm pretty sure it was the "cigars" they were after, but when it comes to Che ...

Well, one can never be too sure.

What I can be sure about, however, is that after only one day, Louisiana has smashed all my preconceptions to little bits.

I am completely intrigued with the French Quarter and wish wish wish that I had days to explore the city, as opposed to just today, this one day, which was over and done with in a flash.

In fact, after walking just one block from my hotel, I found that I was chiding myself.

Why, why was it that I so long resisted a trip to New Orleans?

Che Spotted in JFK

A trip is not a trip unless there is a Che-spotting.

That's my rule anyway.

On this most recent trip to New York to visit friends, I was so caught up in having quality bonding time with my long-time buddies that I nearly forgot all about my ongoing Che-spotting mission.

But no fear! This time, Che came to me.

As I rose to board my plane home in a busy JFK, a college-aged man pushed into line before me carrying "the" whopping 800-page Che Guevara biography.

I recognized the cover right away as the book sat on my bookshelf for many years. I bought it, determined to read the whole thing cover to cover, but the sheer size of the volume just overwhelmed. I never got more than 20 pages in and eventually I sold it to a used book store.


I would never have pegged the book's holder for a Che fanatic. Then again, most people wouldn't peg me as Che obsessed either.

I hope this ambitious reader makes it further through the book than I did!

Che in L.A.

And of course there was a Che-Sighting in L.A.!

I caught these images of Che hanging out on a hat rack in Chinatown.

At $5.99 a piece, I could have bought the whole lot. But I didn't. I practiced restraint!

Is it Che or is it Anne?

And speaking of clippings...

I can always count on my dear friend Cuba Jen (thus named as we traveled in Cuba together) to clip, collect and send various Che-related images my way.

On her recent trip to South Africa, she stopped off in Amsterdam for some days, and happened across this postcard taking a new spin on a classic Anne Frank portrait.

Is it just us with our warped Che-obsession, or does this Anne Frank look a little like Che?

After all, in her own way, she was revolutionary too.

Che It Isn't So

At least there is one person in my life who understands my Che obsession.

My friend, Cuba Jen (so named because I traveled with her in Cuba) just got home from a three-week trip to South Africa.

She returned home happy to report that Che is thriving in Cape Town.

She filled a recent evening with tales of her assorted Che-sightings and just sent three emails loaded down with photo attachments as proof.

Among her Che-booty was this disturbing shot.

Who -- oh who? -- would ever think it appropriate to adorn dear Che with Mickey Mouse ears?