"The carts. They're using carts to move their wounded and the supplies."
I could hear George C. Scott's voice as clear as that. In my mind, of course. The George C. Scott who transformed himself into George Patton, that is.
But why that quotation? There I was in the Los Angeles Airport waiting for the next leg of my flight. This time to Manzanillo. And a week of confirming whether I wanted to spend the rest of my life in Mexico.
What would make me think of one of the most famous war movies of all time -- at that moment? And then it struck me. Just like George Patton knew that the Germans had lost the war when they needed to resort to carts, I could see what was happening around me.
I have written before how flying is no longer an adventure. At one point, I referred to it as the penance we must serve for our enjoyable vacations.
But that penance has the sense of being a war refugee. In the waiting area, there was almost no noise. People stared blankly into the middle distance. Not really looking at anything. Just waiting, Waiting for all of this to be over. And, in the background, the uneven clicking and clattering of luggage wheels.
But George Patton was wrong. Some of us were on our way to new adventures. Adventures that would include:
- A new town
- Some challenging weather
- The joys and travails of the beach
- New neighbors
- A new culture
- The challenges of Spanish
- Lessons of a new house
Over the next few days, I will share what I learned -- and put some questions to those of you who have been through this.
So join me as I toss my bag aboard the 10:45 to Manzanillo, and we will share a week of experiences together.