A THOUSAND WORDS - Alex Waterhouse-Hayward's blog on pictures, plants, politics and whatever else is on his mind.




 

Facts & Circumstances
Saturday, September 28, 2013



Saturday, September 28, 2013 – San Jerónimo
Buenos Aires, Federal Capital
Guest Blog - Felipe Occhiuzzi


 
Felipe Occhiuzzi, Estación Retiro, Ferrocarril General Belgrano



Facts and Circumstances

The meeting was programmed for noon, impeccable punctuality (seven years had transpired, since we had last met) we were able to achieve it fifteen minutes before schedule in the central hall of Retiro Station of the General Belgrano Rail Line; recognition was instantaneous, considering our first seven decades of existence, without any appearances of visible ailments of note (or at least that we think so), effusive greeting and the sharing of our mutually known ironies, we walk to the entrance of the Subte, C Line, our destination Pueyrredón, D Line, our objective a programmed meeting up at the home of Alex’s cousin Wenceslao whom I will meet, whose apartment is located in a central artery of the city named Larrea and numbered 1234, as we descend the stairs of the station I make a commentary to Alex that the stairs are almost a century old and that they are of the same width and that since the first throngs of people then did not amount to five percent of the present, imagine how dysfunctional for so many users who must suffer their narrowness now. 


Once in the innards we face the turnstiles but our tickets do not register in their scanners, the turnstiles read “out of order”(thank God that it is not a weekday as they are spared the fury of busy-going to-work passengers), a pleasant employee indicates us to pass by and we finally board the train (Alex stops by a an advertising billboard and snaps a picture) and we sit down on seats of an acceptable blue material, we initiate a cataract of dialogues, as the train starts on its journey, engrossed in a commentary about a brochure on Jorge Luís Borges that Alex shows me, obtained from the very innards of the National Library, while we both analyze if it had been legitimately obtained, we did not notice Diagonal Norte Station and did not get off where we should have, in order to make our connection to Pueyrredón Station. So we got off at Avenida de Mayo, and from this station that links to other lines, we started on a long pilgrimage to amend our error, the result of our distracting enthusiasm; our immediate objective, Avenida de Mayo Station (SAME Name, BUT!!!!!NOW LÍNEA A) to board a train to Plaza Once (Plaza Miserere Station), and from there to combine with the new H Line, towards Corrientes Station (the final end point towards that blessed LARREA 1234). Following a long line of signs and arrows, going down and up stairs, we embarked on a journey in search of A Line, through a very long, about 100 metres, well lit passageway, we laugh and discuss, gesticulating with pleasure about our confusing situation, when suddenly we perceive the sounds of a guitar and someone not quite identifiable because of the distance who seems to be singing a song. As we approach we notice it is a woman, perhaps around 50, but immersed in our conversation we pass the busker by, immediately we receive a volley of very loud, sublime and portentous epithets (evidently paying us back for our tribute of rudely ignoring the “artist”) !Shitty foreigners of a whorish mother go back to your own country, shit yourselves in hunger as in Spain, miserable exploiters, sons of bitches! all without any solution in continuity, rumbling on with the voice of the consummate soprano of varieté, her voice gradually faded as we traversed the tunnel our “saddlebags” overburdened with shit and insults. Finally, metaphorically shitting ourselves with laughter, we reached the platform to the line that would take us towards Plaza Miserere; once there we were to board Line H, this is a hallucinating combination as we have to pass through a variety of tunnels and passageways, always with insufficient and deficient signage, but asking strangers that passed us by for instructions, and especially a young lady who indicates that at the end we would find ourselves with a y bifurcation, one would be called Hospitales and the other Corrientes, we took the “Towards Corrientes” to arrive at the correct platform. As we waited, two stangers attempted to convince us to exit to the street and take the Line 64 colectivo (bus) that would leave us close to our destination, considering that the train that we would board would take us only four blocks and leave us a good a good distance away: Abusing our stubbornness we refused all counsel, and we took the train for only four blocks and we emerged to the surface, onto Pueyrredón, after an almost hour of twist and turn adventures, there we prepared ourselves to hop on the famous and recommended 64 bus but, just in case we asked….and yes we were about to take the bus going in the opposite direction, so we crossed the street to wait for our bus there, but we could not find the stop for bus 64, we asked (WE NOTICE THAT PEOPLE HAVE MORE DOUBTS THAN CERTAINTIES), intelligently Alex stops a taxi, cheerfully we are convinced that in combining our mutually diminishing neurons, we are not in the least shittingly aware of our bearings in Buenos Aires, especially me Felipe Occhiuzzi, a conspicuous porteño inhabitant!! having been born in the most porteñísimo and tango-famous corner of San Juan and Boedo. Once installed most comfortably in the taxi, our conductor, Peruvian, he, takes us to our destination, I asked if he knew Buenos Aires well, he answers that he is trying since his arrival four years before, in our short trip I get his answer, yes, on who is more renowned, Cesar Vallejo over Mario Vargas Llosa, which pleases me fully. And with a few more details we arrive at Larrea 1234 and Alex presses timidly, most unsure, on the button indicating 3 “B” (he doubted between “A” or “B”) and ……….we hear voice of Wenceslao whom I will soon meet with pleasure.


Jorge Wenceslao de Irureta Goyena & Felipe Occhiuzzi


Finally inside Wence’s apartment we exchange all the expected courtesies and we settle into a comforting situation, We go through a rapid account of our past lives and early youth (the beginning of the 60s decade). Since the three of us lived the same seven decades we were witness to places and occurrences all shared. Both cousins compare notes on ancestors, they exchange anecdotes, situations of disagreement, distorted memories and events that are best understood from the perspective of a remote passing of time with so many absences and oversights to add to the confusion.

In a most pleasant chat, the instances add up (while Alex prosaically insists on fulfilling his gastronomic rituals), Wence and I enthralled in our exchange of information avoid his insistence (although I believe we had the same need for sustenance), finally it is almost 14:30, not a bad idea to descend the three floors and to rapidly go in search of a good place for lunch, which is something we achieve without too much ceremony on the first restaurant we find on Avenida Santa Fé.

Comfortably seated, the cousins decide on the self-service barbecue, while I opt for a plate of pasta (I have few options in the menu nor do I desire them), while we have a variety of salads and stuff (which at least look good), and we proceed to pick and choose. Alex orders a white wine?? Wence and I reluctantly accept the choice, (it may not be red but it is wine).

Diverting here to opine on my views on the proper cooking of pasta (I am Italian), of its quality, sauces and dressing (this could perhaps be a further chapter to this that I have written) Alex taught us of the origin of the hot chillies, he told us that they were first grown in Bolivia, to be discovered by Europeans in the time of the Conquest, he told us that the name of the hot chillie was piri-piri as it rounded the Cape of Good Hope, and that henceforth the world delighted in a plethora of dishes in which those hot peppers were consumed, contributing to mankind (through sinful consumption) that malady of the “irritated colon”. 



Obviously throughout the process of lunch, more and more anecdotes added up, some of which introduced themselves through unforeseen crannies, Alex and Wency cover in depth family situations of a long past, all of which taste to me most wonderfully but seem, I don’t know why, to be remote; meanwhile Alex criticizes the quality of the meat, he refuses to finish it and opts for a plate of “salsa” which he accompanies with bread, his lunch coming to a satisfying end. We converse at the table and time passes nicely especially for me. I am fascinated. But….the restaurant has to close, after the desserts; we pay and we walk onto Santa Fé en route to the Ateneo bookstore. Once there Alex takes a few photographs, buys some books of which he is unable to pay for. He has a credit card but no required photo ID. The books are returned!!

Unfortunately our day comes to an end, we must return, we say goodbye to Wenceslao, and we take the 106 bus to Retiro Train Station, there our destinations bifurcate since both of us must board different trains.

Felipe Occhiuzzi dixit



Hechos Y Circunstancias



Sábado 28 de septiembre 2013- día de San Jerónimo
Buenos Aires, Capital Federal

Hechos y circunstancias
Felipe Occhiuzzi


Felipe Occhiuzzi- Estación Retiro - Ferrocarril General Belgrano

Fué un encuentro programado para el mediodía, puntualidad impecable (habían pasado siete años, sin vernos), logramos concretarlo un cuarto de hora antes de lo previsto en el hall central de la estación Retiro del Ferrocarril Belgrano; el reconocimiento es instantáneo, ya sobrepasando nuestras primeras siete décadas, sin aparencias de "achaques " visibles (ó nos creemos eso), saludo efusivo e intercambios superpuestos de nuestras ya consabidas y conocidas ironías, nos ponemos en marcha hacia la boca del subte, línea C, destino estación Pueyrredón de la línea D, objetivo encuentro programado en casa de Wenceslao (primo hermano de Alex) que voy a conocer, ubicada en una arteria céntrica de la ciudad de nombre Larrea numeración 1234, en tanto descendemos por las escaleras hacia la estación hago un comentario a Alex acerca que estas escaleras son casi centenarias y conservan el mismo ancho, desde cuando la cantidad de pasajeros no alcanzaba al cinco por ciento del actual (imaginen lo disfuncional que son en la actualidad para sinnúmero de usuarios que deben padecer su estrechez). Ya en las entrañas  enfrentamos  los molinetes de ingreso, pero....no registran la lectura de las tarjetas que habilitan el viaje, los molinetes presentan la leyenda "no funcionan"(menos mal que es un día no laborable y los molinetes se salvan de la furia de los usuarios), tenemos que acceder, un amable personal de control nos indica por cual sitio pasar y finalmente vamos hacia el abordaje del tren (Alex se detiene ante un mural de publicidad y lo fotografía), nos instalamos comodamente sobre asientos de una aceptable pana azul, iniciamos una catarata de diálogos, mientras el tren inicia su marcha, enfrascados en un comentario sobre un folleto sobre Jorge Luís Borges que Alex me exhibe, obtenido de las entrañas de la Biblioteca Nacional, y analizando si había sido legitimamente obtenido, terminamos pasándonos de la estación Diagonal Norte donde deberíamos haber descendido para hacer nuestra combinación hacia nuestro destino, de inmediato descendemos en Avenida de Mayo, desde éste nuevo punto de combinación comenzamos un peregrinaje para enmendar nuestro error por exceso de entusiasmo y distracción; nuestro próximo objetivo, estación Avenida de Mayo (MISMO NOMBRE, PERO!!!!! AHORA LÍNEA A) para abordar un tren hacia plaza Once (estación Plaza Miserere), y desde ese destino combinar con nueva línea H, hacia estación Corrientes (destino último hacia la bendita LA-REA 1234).   

Siguiendo una sucesión de indicaciones y flechas, subidas y descensos nos encaminamos en busca de la línea A, a través de un largo pasillo bien iluminado de unos cien metros de longitud, vamos conversando animadamente haciendo comentarios jocosos acerca de la situación que estamos atravesando, a poco andar se perciben acordes de guitarra y alguien inidentificable por la distancia parece entonar una canción, acercándonos divisamos una mujer de unos 50 años cantando, enfrascados en nuestra conversación rebasamos la posición de la particular "juglar", de inmediato recibimos una andanada de sublimes y portentosos insultos a muy viva voz (evidentemente pagando nuestro tributo por la descortesía y desatención hacia la "artista") !gringos de mierda y mala madre vuelvanse a su tierra, cáguense de hambre como en España, miserables explotadores hijos de puta, todo esto sin solución de continuidad  con estentórea voz de consumada soprano de varieté, su voz se fué perdiendo en el túnel a medida que nos alejábamos con nuestras alforjas colmatadas de mierdas y puteadas. Finalmente cagandonos metafóricamente de risotadas entramos al anden que nos conduciría hacia Plaza Miserere; llegados debíamos abordar la línea H, esta combinación es alucinante hay que recorrer una vastedad de tramos de túneles y descender escaleras siempre con deficiente señalización, pero preguntando a ocasionales transéuntes, en especial una señorita nos indica que al final nos encontraríamos con una bifurcación en (Y) una diría Hospitales y otra Corrientes, efectivamente nos introdujimos por "hacia Corrientes" y finalmente, el andén ! Hubimos de esperar, dos personas trataron de convencernos de ir a la superficie y abordar un colectivo de la línea 64 que nos dejaría muy próximos de nuestro destino final, dado que el tren que tomaríamos tenía terminal solo a cuatro cuadras: Abusando de nuestra terquedad rehusamos el consejo, tomamos el tren por sólo 4 cuadras y emergemos luego de casi una hora de peripecias a la calle Pueyrredón, allí nos preparamos a tomar el famoso y recomendado 64 por las dudas preguntamos y ...efectivamente íbamos a abordar el de la dirección equivocada, así que ...a cruzar la avenida y esperar allí, pero....no se encuentra la parada del susodicho 64, preguntamos (VEMOS QUE LA GENTE TIENE MÁS DUDAS QUE CERTEZAS), inteligentemente Alex detiene un taxi, alegremente convencidos que complementando nuestras menguadas neuronas, no conocemos una mismísima mierda de Bs As, principalmente Felipe Occhiuzzi, conspicuo habitante porteño!! nacido en la porteñísima y tanguera esquina de San Juan y Boedo. Ya instalados comodamente nuestro conductor, peruano, él, nos lleva a destino, pregunté si conocía bien BS.AS, me contesta que está tratando de hacerlo desde hace 4 años, en la corta travesía obtengo un sí en cuanto Cesar Vallejo es mas reconocido que Vargas Llosa, por lo cual me alegra sobremanera. Aún con otros pequeños detalles llegamos a Larrea 1234 y Alex oprime timidamente e inseguro el timbre del tercero B (dudaba entre A ó B ),y ......... oimos la voz de Wenceslao a quien conoceré gratamente, breves instantes después.

Finalmente instalados en el piso de Wence, intercambiamos las presentaciones de rigor
y rápidamente "rompemos" los usuales estados de gelitud; Hacemos un recorrido veloz de nuestras pasadas historias y  primera juventud (principios de los 60 ).Ya que los tres orillamos nuestras siete décadas, fuimos testigos de una época en la cual nos identificamos con lugares y vivencias comunes. Ambos primos van desmadejando historias de sus comunes ancestros, desencuentros, intercambio de anécdotas, llenando y completando recuerdos de tergiversados parentescos y sucesos que son mejor comprendidos desde la perspectiva remota por el paso del tiempo , las ausencias y los olvidos.

Es una charla amenísima, los instantes se acumulan (como la prosaica insistencia de Alex por cumplimentar su necesidad ritual gastronómica), Wence y yo muy enfrascados en intercambio de información soslayamos su insistencia (aunque creo que experimentamos la misma necesidad), finalmente ya son casi las 14.30 hs, no es mala idea bajar los tres pisos y dirigirnos raudamente en busca de un digno sitio para "almorzar", cosa que concretamos sin demasiados prolegómenos con el primer restaurante sobre Av. Santa Fé.

 
Jorge Wenceslao de Irureta Goyena, Felipe Occhiuzzi

Cómodamente instalados, los primos optan por almorzar una parrillada de autoservicio, yo opto por un plato de pasta (no poseo demasiadas opciones, ni lo deseo), en tanto tenemos opción a una serie de ensaladas y contornos (de buena presencia a la vista), procedemos a dar cuenta de ellos, Alex ordena un vino blanco ??, Wence y yo aceptamos a regañadientes la elección, (no será tinto pero es vino).

Hablando sobre preparación de pastas, calidad de la misma, salsas y sus aderezos (esto sería tal vez de un cuarto y nutritivo capítulo de los tres que he escrito aquí) Alex nos enseñó el origen de los ajies picantes, narró que son originarios del altiplano boliviano y fueron descubiertos por los europeos en épocas de la conquista, nos relató que su nombre al pasar por el Cabo de La Buena Esperanza es piri-piri, a partir de su uso el mundo gozó y disfrutó de infinidad de platos utilizando estos ajies, contrayendo como resultado (por su pecaminosa ingesta) la dolencia "colon irritado".

Obviamente durante todo el transcurso de la comida el anecdotario se amplifica y se introduce por vericuetos impensados, Alex y Wence recorren muy en profundidad situaciones de familia de un pasado que me sabe riquísimo pero no se porqué remotísimo; En tanto Alex rechaza la calidad de la parrillada, reniega a su ingesta y opta por conseguir un plato de salsa, se acompaña con pan y completa satisfactoriamente su almuerzo!! La sobremesa se extiende en el tiempo (a mi particularmente me resulta agradabilísima y fascinante), pero.... el restaurante tiene que cerrar, luego de los postres, abonamos y nos ponemos en marcha por Sta Fé con rumbo a la librería El Ateneo.Ya allí Alex toma una seguidilla de fotografías, adquiere libros que luego no puede pagar porque si bien posee tarjeta de crédito no puede acreditar identidad por carecer de identificación, por lo tanto a devolver los libros !!

 
Librería El Ateneo

Lamentablemente la jornada llega a su fin, debemos regresar, nos despedimos de Wenceslao, y tomamos el 106 hacia estación Retiro, allí nuestros rumbos se bifurcan ya que ambos abordamos distintos trenes.

Felipe Occhiuzzi  dixit




     

Previous Posts
Mumbai's Zona de Tolerancia

An Encounter with the Exotic at the York Theatre

Lauren & Casi-Casi Met Up

Edwin Varney - Unstampable

Edward Clendon River - Michael Turner & Modigliani...

Boeing 747 The Queen of the Skies

In Search of My Relevance With The Goblin Market

Marv Newland's Scratchy - Itching Us On

Rain

Cool Ember



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7/4/10 - 7/11/10

7/11/10 - 7/18/10

7/18/10 - 7/25/10

7/25/10 - 8/1/10

8/1/10 - 8/8/10

8/8/10 - 8/15/10

8/15/10 - 8/22/10

8/22/10 - 8/29/10

8/29/10 - 9/5/10

9/5/10 - 9/12/10

9/12/10 - 9/19/10

9/19/10 - 9/26/10

9/26/10 - 10/3/10

10/3/10 - 10/10/10

10/10/10 - 10/17/10

10/17/10 - 10/24/10

10/24/10 - 10/31/10

10/31/10 - 11/7/10

11/7/10 - 11/14/10

11/14/10 - 11/21/10

11/21/10 - 11/28/10

11/28/10 - 12/5/10

12/5/10 - 12/12/10

12/12/10 - 12/19/10

12/19/10 - 12/26/10

12/26/10 - 1/2/11

1/2/11 - 1/9/11

1/9/11 - 1/16/11

1/16/11 - 1/23/11

1/23/11 - 1/30/11

1/30/11 - 2/6/11

2/6/11 - 2/13/11

2/13/11 - 2/20/11

2/20/11 - 2/27/11

2/27/11 - 3/6/11

3/6/11 - 3/13/11

3/13/11 - 3/20/11

3/20/11 - 3/27/11

3/27/11 - 4/3/11

4/3/11 - 4/10/11

4/10/11 - 4/17/11

4/17/11 - 4/24/11

4/24/11 - 5/1/11

5/1/11 - 5/8/11

5/8/11 - 5/15/11

5/15/11 - 5/22/11

5/22/11 - 5/29/11

5/29/11 - 6/5/11

6/5/11 - 6/12/11

6/12/11 - 6/19/11

6/19/11 - 6/26/11

6/26/11 - 7/3/11

7/3/11 - 7/10/11

7/10/11 - 7/17/11

7/17/11 - 7/24/11

7/24/11 - 7/31/11

7/31/11 - 8/7/11

8/7/11 - 8/14/11

8/14/11 - 8/21/11

8/21/11 - 8/28/11

8/28/11 - 9/4/11

9/4/11 - 9/11/11

9/11/11 - 9/18/11

9/18/11 - 9/25/11

9/25/11 - 10/2/11

10/2/11 - 10/9/11

10/9/11 - 10/16/11

10/16/11 - 10/23/11

10/23/11 - 10/30/11

10/30/11 - 11/6/11

11/6/11 - 11/13/11

11/13/11 - 11/20/11

11/20/11 - 11/27/11

11/27/11 - 12/4/11

12/4/11 - 12/11/11

12/11/11 - 12/18/11

12/18/11 - 12/25/11

12/25/11 - 1/1/12

1/1/12 - 1/8/12

1/8/12 - 1/15/12

1/15/12 - 1/22/12

1/22/12 - 1/29/12

1/29/12 - 2/5/12

2/5/12 - 2/12/12

2/12/12 - 2/19/12

2/19/12 - 2/26/12

2/26/12 - 3/4/12

3/4/12 - 3/11/12

3/11/12 - 3/18/12

3/18/12 - 3/25/12

3/25/12 - 4/1/12

4/1/12 - 4/8/12

4/8/12 - 4/15/12

4/15/12 - 4/22/12

4/22/12 - 4/29/12

4/29/12 - 5/6/12

5/6/12 - 5/13/12

5/13/12 - 5/20/12

5/20/12 - 5/27/12

5/27/12 - 6/3/12

6/3/12 - 6/10/12

6/10/12 - 6/17/12

6/17/12 - 6/24/12

6/24/12 - 7/1/12

7/1/12 - 7/8/12

7/8/12 - 7/15/12

7/15/12 - 7/22/12

7/22/12 - 7/29/12

7/29/12 - 8/5/12

8/5/12 - 8/12/12

8/12/12 - 8/19/12

8/19/12 - 8/26/12

8/26/12 - 9/2/12

9/2/12 - 9/9/12

9/9/12 - 9/16/12

9/16/12 - 9/23/12

9/23/12 - 9/30/12

9/30/12 - 10/7/12

10/7/12 - 10/14/12

10/14/12 - 10/21/12

10/21/12 - 10/28/12

10/28/12 - 11/4/12

11/4/12 - 11/11/12

11/11/12 - 11/18/12

11/18/12 - 11/25/12

11/25/12 - 12/2/12

12/2/12 - 12/9/12

12/9/12 - 12/16/12

12/16/12 - 12/23/12

12/23/12 - 12/30/12

12/30/12 - 1/6/13

1/6/13 - 1/13/13

1/13/13 - 1/20/13

1/20/13 - 1/27/13

1/27/13 - 2/3/13

2/3/13 - 2/10/13

2/10/13 - 2/17/13

2/17/13 - 2/24/13

2/24/13 - 3/3/13

3/3/13 - 3/10/13

3/10/13 - 3/17/13

3/17/13 - 3/24/13

3/24/13 - 3/31/13

3/31/13 - 4/7/13

4/7/13 - 4/14/13

4/14/13 - 4/21/13

4/21/13 - 4/28/13

4/28/13 - 5/5/13

5/5/13 - 5/12/13

5/12/13 - 5/19/13

5/19/13 - 5/26/13

5/26/13 - 6/2/13

6/2/13 - 6/9/13

6/9/13 - 6/16/13

6/16/13 - 6/23/13

6/23/13 - 6/30/13

6/30/13 - 7/7/13

7/7/13 - 7/14/13

7/14/13 - 7/21/13

7/21/13 - 7/28/13

7/28/13 - 8/4/13

8/4/13 - 8/11/13

8/11/13 - 8/18/13

8/18/13 - 8/25/13

8/25/13 - 9/1/13

9/1/13 - 9/8/13

9/8/13 - 9/15/13

9/15/13 - 9/22/13

9/22/13 - 9/29/13

9/29/13 - 10/6/13

10/6/13 - 10/13/13

10/13/13 - 10/20/13

10/20/13 - 10/27/13

10/27/13 - 11/3/13

11/3/13 - 11/10/13

11/10/13 - 11/17/13

11/17/13 - 11/24/13

11/24/13 - 12/1/13

12/1/13 - 12/8/13

12/8/13 - 12/15/13

12/15/13 - 12/22/13

12/22/13 - 12/29/13

12/29/13 - 1/5/14

1/5/14 - 1/12/14

1/12/14 - 1/19/14

1/19/14 - 1/26/14

1/26/14 - 2/2/14

2/2/14 - 2/9/14

2/9/14 - 2/16/14

2/16/14 - 2/23/14

2/23/14 - 3/2/14

3/2/14 - 3/9/14

3/9/14 - 3/16/14

3/16/14 - 3/23/14

3/23/14 - 3/30/14

3/30/14 - 4/6/14

4/6/14 - 4/13/14

4/13/14 - 4/20/14

4/20/14 - 4/27/14

4/27/14 - 5/4/14

5/4/14 - 5/11/14

5/11/14 - 5/18/14

5/18/14 - 5/25/14

5/25/14 - 6/1/14

6/1/14 - 6/8/14

6/8/14 - 6/15/14

6/15/14 - 6/22/14

6/22/14 - 6/29/14

6/29/14 - 7/6/14

7/6/14 - 7/13/14

7/13/14 - 7/20/14

7/20/14 - 7/27/14

7/27/14 - 8/3/14

8/3/14 - 8/10/14

8/10/14 - 8/17/14

8/17/14 - 8/24/14

8/24/14 - 8/31/14

8/31/14 - 9/7/14

9/7/14 - 9/14/14

9/14/14 - 9/21/14

9/21/14 - 9/28/14

9/28/14 - 10/5/14

10/5/14 - 10/12/14

10/12/14 - 10/19/14

10/19/14 - 10/26/14

10/26/14 - 11/2/14

11/2/14 - 11/9/14

11/9/14 - 11/16/14

11/16/14 - 11/23/14

11/23/14 - 11/30/14

11/30/14 - 12/7/14

12/7/14 - 12/14/14

12/14/14 - 12/21/14

12/21/14 - 12/28/14

12/28/14 - 1/4/15

1/4/15 - 1/11/15

1/11/15 - 1/18/15

1/18/15 - 1/25/15

1/25/15 - 2/1/15

2/1/15 - 2/8/15

2/8/15 - 2/15/15

2/15/15 - 2/22/15

2/22/15 - 3/1/15

3/1/15 - 3/8/15

3/8/15 - 3/15/15

3/15/15 - 3/22/15

3/22/15 - 3/29/15

3/29/15 - 4/5/15

4/5/15 - 4/12/15

4/12/15 - 4/19/15

4/19/15 - 4/26/15

4/26/15 - 5/3/15

5/3/15 - 5/10/15

5/10/15 - 5/17/15

5/17/15 - 5/24/15

5/24/15 - 5/31/15

5/31/15 - 6/7/15

6/7/15 - 6/14/15

6/14/15 - 6/21/15

6/21/15 - 6/28/15

6/28/15 - 7/5/15

7/5/15 - 7/12/15

7/12/15 - 7/19/15

7/19/15 - 7/26/15

7/26/15 - 8/2/15

8/2/15 - 8/9/15

8/9/15 - 8/16/15

8/16/15 - 8/23/15

8/23/15 - 8/30/15

8/30/15 - 9/6/15

9/6/15 - 9/13/15

9/13/15 - 9/20/15

9/20/15 - 9/27/15

9/27/15 - 10/4/15

10/4/15 - 10/11/15

10/18/15 - 10/25/15

10/25/15 - 11/1/15

11/1/15 - 11/8/15

11/8/15 - 11/15/15

11/15/15 - 11/22/15

11/22/15 - 11/29/15

11/29/15 - 12/6/15

12/6/15 - 12/13/15

12/13/15 - 12/20/15

12/20/15 - 12/27/15

12/27/15 - 1/3/16

1/3/16 - 1/10/16

1/10/16 - 1/17/16

1/31/16 - 2/7/16

2/7/16 - 2/14/16

2/14/16 - 2/21/16

2/21/16 - 2/28/16

2/28/16 - 3/6/16

3/6/16 - 3/13/16

3/13/16 - 3/20/16

3/20/16 - 3/27/16

3/27/16 - 4/3/16

4/3/16 - 4/10/16

4/10/16 - 4/17/16

4/17/16 - 4/24/16

4/24/16 - 5/1/16

5/1/16 - 5/8/16

5/8/16 - 5/15/16

5/15/16 - 5/22/16

5/22/16 - 5/29/16

5/29/16 - 6/5/16

6/5/16 - 6/12/16

6/12/16 - 6/19/16

6/19/16 - 6/26/16

6/26/16 - 7/3/16

7/3/16 - 7/10/16

7/10/16 - 7/17/16

7/17/16 - 7/24/16

7/24/16 - 7/31/16

7/31/16 - 8/7/16

8/7/16 - 8/14/16

8/14/16 - 8/21/16

8/21/16 - 8/28/16

8/28/16 - 9/4/16

9/4/16 - 9/11/16

9/11/16 - 9/18/16

9/18/16 - 9/25/16

9/25/16 - 10/2/16

10/2/16 - 10/9/16

10/9/16 - 10/16/16

10/16/16 - 10/23/16

10/23/16 - 10/30/16

10/30/16 - 11/6/16

11/6/16 - 11/13/16

11/13/16 - 11/20/16

11/20/16 - 11/27/16

11/27/16 - 12/4/16

12/4/16 - 12/11/16

12/11/16 - 12/18/16

12/18/16 - 12/25/16

12/25/16 - 1/1/17

1/1/17 - 1/8/17

1/8/17 - 1/15/17

1/15/17 - 1/22/17

1/22/17 - 1/29/17

1/29/17 - 2/5/17

2/5/17 - 2/12/17

2/12/17 - 2/19/17

2/19/17 - 2/26/17

2/26/17 - 3/5/17

3/5/17 - 3/12/17

3/12/17 - 3/19/17

3/19/17 - 3/26/17

3/26/17 - 4/2/17

4/2/17 - 4/9/17

4/9/17 - 4/16/17

4/16/17 - 4/23/17

4/23/17 - 4/30/17

4/30/17 - 5/7/17

5/7/17 - 5/14/17

5/14/17 - 5/21/17

5/21/17 - 5/28/17

5/28/17 - 6/4/17

6/4/17 - 6/11/17

6/11/17 - 6/18/17

6/18/17 - 6/25/17

6/25/17 - 7/2/17

7/2/17 - 7/9/17

7/9/17 - 7/16/17

7/16/17 - 7/23/17

7/23/17 - 7/30/17

7/30/17 - 8/6/17

8/6/17 - 8/13/17

8/13/17 - 8/20/17

8/20/17 - 8/27/17

8/27/17 - 9/3/17

9/3/17 - 9/10/17

9/10/17 - 9/17/17

9/17/17 - 9/24/17

9/24/17 - 10/1/17

10/1/17 - 10/8/17

10/8/17 - 10/15/17

10/15/17 - 10/22/17