Moments stolen, moments won

We never quite realize when we start taking things for granted. When exactly happens this transition that makes us pass from appreciating things to considering them permanent rights. It happened to me only today, when passing from Carrer de Ginebra in the Barceloneta, a route I take every day to go to work. There, at the corner of Ginebra with Rector Bruguera there always stood a half-demolished building, whose destruction had led to something of a work of art. I say "always" because I have grown to think as if it has been there since the beginning of time. First time I saw it, old wallpapers still hanging, washing basins and showers still springing from the dead mural of what used to be the bathroom walls of its inhabitants, I stood amazed. People were taking photos of it everytime I would pass by but I never did, probably because of this feeling of permanence that soon prevailed over my appreciation. Too bad, it got completely demolished last Tuesday. So yesterday I did not find it there. My chance for a photo was lost and so was the feeling that I somehow owned this view on my everyday walk to work.

There come monents like these that make you realize you may becoming a bit superficial about everyday routine. That you do not anymore appreciate simple things in life, and this may be far more important than a semi-demolished building being brought down by the buldozers of the Ajuntament. You realize that you have to try appreciating moments that are evasive, just because so many worthy things inevitably are. They stand there only for a little while and then drift away leaving no evidence they once existed.

On my way back, just a few meters from home I rode by the tapas bar that is really close to my place, "Pulperia Celta". I was in a hurry so I was riding quickly but this did not prevent me from caughting a crying man's voice coming from inside the bar. I turned the bike around and stood outside the bar for a few minutes. There he was, a guy in his late forties, who could equally probably be a school teacher, a taxi driver or a construction worker singing a flamenco "a capella" after the request of his friends and a few canas of beer. The song lasted a whole two minutes and then Paco, received the applause of his friends and another cana from the bartender. For the few of us that had the luck to be passing by it was just one of these everyday moments that make a Sunday really worth it.