 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
||||||||
|
|
||||||||
|
||||||||
A Balloon in Cactus
Cesar Millan: America's Greatest Mexican Import
By Maggie Van Ostrand
Her Email
Her Bio
During the Great Depression of the 1930s, the American people, desperately in need of relief from fears about the future, turned for escape to movie stars Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers for champagne and chiffon, horseracing icon, Seabiscuit, for inspiration and heart, and heavyweight boxer, Joe Louis, for action and grace.
Similarly, Americans in 2006, with different fears about the future, also look for escape. No longer admired by the rest of the world, vulnerable to attack from within and without, and helpless to prevent greedy fingers from emptying our pockets faster than Streisand can schedule another comeback tour, we need to get away from it all.
To whom do we turn today for solace, now that movie musicals, star horses, and the Brown Bomber are gone? Easy. We're turning in droves to a proven comfort giver: dogs.
Daily relief is being gobbled up by millions of viewers of National Geographic's "Dog Whisperer," Cesar Millan, the greatest Mexican import since the tamale.
"Cesar's Way: The Natural, Everyday Guide to Understanding and Correcting Common Dog Problems," is on the New York Times best-seller list as well as Amazon.com's. So are the National Geographic's DVDs of their hit show, "Dog Whisperer."
America is tuning out, and turning on to dogs.
Cesar Millan, who, according to the May 22nd issue of The New Yorker, "crawled across the border 14 years ago," has no formal trainer training. He taught himself about dogs while he was growing up on his grandfather's farm in Sinaloa, Mexico. As a child, he was called "el Perrero," the "dog boy." He patiently watched and studied dogs' behavior until he was able to imagine himself inside the dog's head, and could anticipate the dog's next move, as well as how to control it. That was the birth of National Geographic's Dog Whisperer.
Author Malcolm Gladwell's Profile on Cesar Millan for The New Yorker, called "What the Dog Saw: Cesar Millan and the Movements of Mastery" likens Cesar's physical movements to both politics and dancing. The article rhapsodizes over similarities between Millan and "movement masters" Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton, and the grace of Millan's movements as studied by Karen Bradley, head of the graduate dance program at the University of Maryland. Cesar thought he was a dog whisperer but The New Yorker thinks he might really be Barishnikov.
Viewers hooked on his hit show watch Cesar Millan train the owners, more than the dogs. There are no bad Rottweilers, no bad Pit Bulls, and no bad Chihauhaus, just owners who often allow their dogs get away with running the whole show, like a spoiled child. In Mexico, a person is a person and a dog is a dog. Then Cesar came along and pointed out to the U.S.A. the reason why dogs. . .
Maggie Van Ostrand is a wonderful storyteller with great insight. To read all her articles all the time, we invite you to join our family of subscribers... it isn't expensive. A monthly subscription is just $5.00 USD - that's $1.15 per week. An annual subscription costs $30.00 USD - only $2.50 per month or 58 cents per week. If you're interested in living or retiring in Mexico, we think you'll find it's money well spent.
Subscribe today and always read all the articles!Maggie Van Ostrand, writer, lives in Ajijic, Mexico and Pine Mountain, California. Her stories appear in the Chicago Tribune, the Boston Globe, El Ojo Del Lago, and various magazines. She co-authored "Home Is Where The Hurt Is" with Tony- and Grammy-winning country humorist Roger Miller, and ghostwrites for television sitcoms.
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
||||||||
|
|
||||||||
|
For MexConnect.Com LLC & Conexión México S.A. de C.V. © Mexico Connect 1996-2008 |
||||||||
= Subscribers only
