For some reason, this was another week where “Why are you moving to Mexico?” seemed to be my friends’ favorite question. I have used all the Tried and Trues. But, this week called for something new.
Near the end of his life, Teddy Roosevelt undertook an expedition into interior Brazil. When asked why a man of his age would want to undertake such a risky journey, he responded: “I had to go. It was my last chance to be a boy.” And that was my answer to my friends this week.
I thought of that today while I was sitting in an all-employee meeting. Suggestions were the order of the day. And they came fast and furious. I chuckled to myself when the managers responded to several suggestions: “That is a good idea. Unfortunately, there are liability issues."
Then tonight, while reading an article in The American Spectator on Evel Knievel’s death, each of those events came together. Paul Beston wrote of his admiration for Knievel as a young boy in the 1970s: “His one deed – flying through the air on a motorcycle, neatly bridging the Wright Brothers and Henry Ford – combined everything a boy craves when he is at play: high speed, noise, excitement, and the tantalizing possibility of disaster.”
Reading that sentence, I knew that is really why I want to move to Mexico. I do not want to live in a world where liability trumps good ideas – or even ideas that are merely fun. I want to go somewhere I can live out my last chance to be a boy.
When my nephew graduated from high school in the mid-1990s, I offered to take him on a trip – his choice. We could either go to Kyrgyzstan or to England. I was positive that he would choose bandits, pistols, and ponies. Instead, he picked dinners at Langan’s and Le Tante Claire, dress circle at the Prince Edward, and the uneven pleasures of Oxford and Blackpool. At 18, I may have made the same choice. But I have not yet put the boy in me to rest. He just may be in Mexico.
5 comments:
Steve, I have been enjoying your writing and for me Mexico seem to be the antidote for the United States.
I have just returned from central Mexico and took some cure.
Kyrgyzstan? Not me, brother, not at any age. Give me Piccadilly any day. Smart nephew.
Funny you should mention this, however. It was the prime motivator for my move south. I have always been an adventurous sort and, at age 55, single and adequately financed, I thought that if I ever was going to do something totally nutty again, I´d better get going. I went.
You won't run into no liability issues down here, brother.
I believe it´s one reason the medical system is reasonably priced. I doubt malpractice is an issue. If you get maimed or killed in a hospital, the Virgin did it, not the doctor.
You hit the nail on the head. For us it was ADVENTURE and I meant to put that in all caps. To be outside of your comfort zone, to have to learn how to speak a new language and learn new customs.
Paul said once that he likes himself better in Mexico - he is more understanding, and patient, and open minded. It is true for me, too.
Life here has so many unexpected plusses I can't even list them all. But I feel young and optimistic and happy and I know that even if I was retired up North I don't think I could feel this good.
Steve, this may have been, for me, one of your more insightful blogs I have read. Having sat through those employee meetings, seeing and hearing the endless "yes, but..." comments, I can appreciate the desire to be a boy again, em"power"ed to live life fully. The sooner you begin this journey, the sooner you will begin to think, act and breathe more fully! As Mike said, starting a new retired life for me at 55 was truly to start living life fully. The "law" is not life, but it will have given you the resources to rediscover it.
I embrace the child in me. It is so true, life begins anew when you get here.
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