They're filming portions of the next James Bond movie here in Casco which, if nothing else, gives me something new to make fun of.

Last weekend Casco Antiguo hosted a festival of the crafts. The day was characterized by scolding hot sun, frantic snow cone salesmen, and some of the neatest crafts I've seen in the country to date.

Amidst all the hype surrounding real estate and renovation in Casco Antiguo, it can be easy to overlook some of the neighborhoods most authentic artists, and no I’m not talking about the guys who strum a guitar then ask for tips, nor the ones who paint larger than life canvases. No, I’m talking about true artists like this one I met just the other day. Frank he’s called.

The neighborhood we call home has experienced a century of extremes. Beginning in the early part of the 20th century, Casco Viejo was the home to some of Panama's most powerful and elite: it was a cultural, political, and social hub which, thanks to it's convenient location, also played host to the majority of trade in the Republic.

I will take this rare opportunity to defend myself and my eating habits.

In sharing an office apartment with him, I quickly realized it was Keenan's belief that putting anything in a refrigerator will keep it from growing old. The refrigerator is like a time stop for him, and once that door closes and the little light goes off, all bets regarding the conventional aging process are off.

Moments after I purchased my new juicer, I realized I had been doing myself a serious disservice by living so long without one. It opened up new doors and inspired new ideas not unlike the way some people regard a spiritual advisor.

It has been my long time belief that living near a historic landmark or large commercial attraction for a prolonged period of time eventually induces a sort of trivial relationship between you and said landmark/attraction. The kind of thing that, when asked by visitors, you'll casually respond to as, "oh, that?"

It was not so much a dream but rather a goal of mine to carry around a hammer for a living. As a child, plumbers and painters would regularly come into our home wearing tool belts equipped wrenches and screwdrivers and bolts, but a hammer to me was the ultimate status symbol. The ultimate emblem of power according to The Thor.