I'm on my sister-in-law's $#!% list. Let me give you some background before telling you why. For the past year, she and my brother have been in the process of adopting two little boys. These boys are two of the coolest kids around. This weekend they were in Phoenix visiting my parents and I drove up for a long weekend to see them. As any responsible parents do (or should do), they have been teaching the boys appropriate behavior. My short day and a half with them may have set them back a few months.
It all started with me looking for a cool gift. After all, I had to give them something cool to buy their love. Don't all healthy relationships work that way? Besides, they recently celebrated their birthdays and I missed them. Yeah, that's my excuse. So I went to the tourist market to find something cheap. I have expressed to my wife on numerous occasions how amazed I am that they all can sell the same stuff and somehow eek out a living. I didn't know what I was looking for, but knew it would jump out at me when I saw it. After 20 minutes nothing stuck out as THE present. Then I saw them. Every mischievous boy's dream come true. Cheap, Hecho En Mexico sling shots! Oh, yeah! I'd arm my newhews with BB gun precursers. All little boys need a sling shot in their back pocket. How else will they defend their forts and club houses?
My brother and sister-in-law both had that "oh-no-you-didn't" look on their faces. It was priceless! The boys didn't quite know what they were at first, but they figured it out in a hurry. Mom took no time in laying down the law. No shooting at houses, people, cars or animals. Geez mom. Take all the fun out of it, why don't you. What's left to shoot? My brother said he's getting my kids stuff that requires batteries.
The fun didn't end with the sling shots. Monday we went swimming in the pool. I had also gotten the kids a big, inflatable turtle, which we just had to christen. The water temperature was 60 degrees. Pretty chilly, so mostly we sat in the hot tub. Luckily the turtle is big enough to hold two squirmy boys without getting them too wet. On one momentous occasion, the older boy was sitting on the turtle alone while my sister-in-law held it near the side of the pool. Uncle Sel told the younger boy to push his mom into the pool. We all got a kick out of watching this 3 year old try to shove his fully clothed mom into the deep end. Even with him putting his weight into it, he was just too small to be effective. Then he caught her off guard. She jumped head first onto the turtle and he toppled in after her. We fished them all out of the pool and then laughed until we cried.
When I said my goodbyes Monday evening, my sister-in-law punched me instead of giving me a hug. I guess I desesrved it.
Did I learn my lesson? Yes.
Am I likely to do it again? Absolutely!

Ain't Got No Rhythm

Last night I drove around a part of town I usually don't visit. There's nothing wrong with it. It's not the red light district or anything (Penasco doesn't have one of those), I just don't have a good reason to go except to say I went. I thought maybe that part of town might have some night life. It didn't. And I wasn't too surprised. My expectations have settled a bit this past month. Can you tell? Anyway, I made a loop back to a main street. My window was rolled down so I could hear them before I saw them. Snare drums. Lots of them. Too many to be that Navy drummer(s). But it was about 7:30 PM. What are a bunch of drummers doing outside this late? Then I saw them. They were marching. Or trying to. I've never been in marching band. Our high school band director expected blood from his students. I preferred donating my blood to the hand cracks of The Island or the Bridge Bands, our local climbing hangouts. But I still know a good marching band when I see one. And this was not one of them. I guess that's why they practice. They all wore reflective vests, which made them look like construction workers - construction workers with no rhythm. I thought it was amusing, so I took pictures. They turned out blurry. Sorry.

Super T

While driving down Penasco's main road I noticed something strange. On opposite sides of the street, within a block of each other, are 2 stores named "Super T." Immediately I thought of Starbucks. Maybe the Super T signs are something other than the stores names. Maybe they just carry lots and lots of Tecate. After all, who (other than SB) would put franchises in that close proximity to one another? I asked a co-worker, and no, they're the same franchise. He said it's because one store might sell more beer and the other might sell more grocery-type products. But even he didn't know for sure. I'm not sufficiently curious to stop and check. Remember, these are the same people that sell the exact same tourist-trap crap as their neighbors in the market. I have a feeling the selection of cerveza in one is just as dismal as the other. As far as I can tell, the only draw to one store over the other is which side of the road you're already on. What's your marketing strategy? Oh, we're targeting lazy people that don't want to cross the street. Bueno!

Why Mexicans Will Never Rule The World

See this guy? See the discolored piece of ground where he's standing? This is why Mexicans will never rule the world. About 2 weeks ago I looked out my office window to see a mini van with its right front tire stuck in this hole. I don't know deep the hole was, but it was large enough to swallow a car tire up to the frame. The hole was a rectangular opening in some concrete something-or-other. I thought it was just the Mexican equivelant of a manhole, but now that I think about it, that would mean real infrastructure. In Mexico? Um, no. Whatever this concrete obstruction was (or still is) I don't know. The solution to keep people form driving their cars into it? Put someone there to stand watch. I know! Why not just petition the city to pave the roads? Oh, that's right! There's no money left for roads after you paid for your kid's braces and took that vacation with your mistress! Sorry. I forgot. Well, why not just fill the hole? Yeah! Let's do that! Last week they finally did. Some guys took dirt near those telephone poles and filled the hole. Good job, guys! Way to engage your creative problem solving skills. So, why is the guy still standing guard? Because the concrete sticks up a good 3-4 inches and someone could hit it. That's why. Why not bury it completely? Why not pay that guy to bust up the concrete with a 10 lb. sledge? It obviously serves no purpose if you're willing to fill it in with dirt. Remember, these are the same guys that hose down the ground in front of their businesses and houses to suppress the dust. Never mind that 90% of the town's streets are unpaved.
Instead of creating permanent solutions to problems they find bandaids, which are usually too small. Everything here functions that way. And that, my Norte Americo compadres, is why Mexicans will never rule the world. They may populate it, but they'll never be in charge. At least this guy won't.

Never Say Never

I honestly never thought I'd say this in Mexico, especially not in my office at 11:00 AM. "I'm cold. I'm going outside to warm up."

I no longer will laugh at El Guapo for getting a sweater on his 33rd birthday.