Pay your respects to local religious customs.
One night we made a pilgrimage down to Douglas to visit the Aparición de Virgin de Guadalupe de Calentador de Agua.
The truly, truly devout make pilgrimages on their knees. But we were in a hurry. Plus there are scorpions. Be reasonable.
Instead, we had Mexican food, then strolled down the street to the house with the glass-encased, virgin-festooned water heater in the front yard.
No mistaking it. That's the Virgin de Guadalupe, alright.
The woman who lived in the house wanted to know about Wagner, but I don't have enough Spanish to explain Wagner. Frankly, I don't think I have enough English to explain Wagner. Finally I had to resort to the word loco.
She admonished me for saying so. In the eyes of the Caretaker of the Water Heater Virgin, I am not loco. Let it be noted.
Then she took Wagner in her hands, looked him over carefully, noting his many non-factory crags, and said one of my favorite Spanish words: "Ay, Pobrecito!"
For the most part, though, I'd say Wagner is a pretty lucky Pobrecito.