joking with heaven

If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.


The sentence is not mine. But the sentiment is.


Monday was the day I was going to explore Manzanillo and La Manzanilla -- two places I have visited often. Instead, I fell into the comfort of inertia.


I drove into Manzanillo with every intention of ferreting out some new sights. But the pull of habit was too strong. I ended up visiting my two shopping haunts: Comercial Mexicana and Walmart.


And this is how adventurous I was. In addition to my groceries, I bought a metal colander to soak rice.


Yes. I know. I know. Buying a metal colander on the Mexican coast is like buying tissue paper to stop Exocet missiles. By the time I get ready to move to the highlands, the colander will undoubtedly look like an artifact from an Indiana Jones movie.


On the way home, I decided to drive through some of the condominium complexes to see if I could spot a se renta sign. I like Manzanillo's infrastructure. If I had seen any sign of availability, I would have taken a look for a place to spend my winter. But I saw nothing.


By the time I got home and took care of some travel plans for two weeks in November, it was time to head off to La Manzanilla for dinner.


A group from Melaque reserved a table at one of my favorite restaurants: Cafe de Flores for 4 PM. I mention the time only because it illustrates how I have not yet acclimated to Mexican culture. I cut off a telephone call to ensure I would be in La Manzanilla on time. And I made it -- despite being slowed down by a drunk who was literally baffled by curves in the road.


And, you have guessed the rest of the story. Most people did not show up until 5 or so.


But it was a great evening. I have commented before that I miss my friends. But I am beginning to mind the gap.


I spent most of the evening talking with four people who have become close acquaintances. They have helped me navigate several social reefs.


One big topic was how important it is to have family, friends, and acquaintances wherever we are. For we expatriates, that means a reliable internet connection.


Without it, we can quickly become isolated. As isolated as a member of the Borg cut off from the collective.


Bad Star Trek analogies must be a basic ingredient in Mexican curses. The words were barely out of our mouths when the telephone and internet system collapsed.


Maybe Carlos Slim was sending someone a message of his power -- a Putinesque note to the not-so-well-connected. Who knows?


What I do know is that I felt very odd not having an electronic communication method with the local area -- let alone to the rest of the world.


Of course, I was ready to draft up today's blog. Instead, I pulled out the same items an Egyptian scribe would have used in the 12th Dynasty: pen and paper.


The systems are now restored. But it is a sobering thought (not that I have had any inebriating ones) that we can be catapulted into the 19th Century with a simple electronic failure. And you classic scholars know that the 19th Century was not very kind to Mexico.


Today, I may return to La Manzanilla to see if I can find a small place where I can invest my winter.


That chuckling you hear is heaven-sent.