Saturday, June 09, 2012

the last brick


In life, we either play the role of Fortunato or Montresor.

You know them.  The antagonist and protagonist in "The Cask of Amontillado."

The wronged and the wrong-doer.  The labels shifting from character to character with each paragraph.

Yesterday, I had no doubt which role had been allotted to me.

Apparently, I had decided to test my "live and let live" time attitude we discussed in searchin' in the sun for another overload.  I thought I was meeting friends from Guadalajara for dinner at 6:30. 

At 6:10 my telephone rang.  "Where are you?"  Dinner was at 6.  The group had northern sensibilities.

I did a quick recovery, telling them I was on my way.

When I opened my gate to take out the truck, I discovered which of Poe's roles I was to play.  No doubt about it.  I was Fortunato that evening.  Bricked up alive for the "thousand injuries" I had committed.

There is never any doubt when my Mexican neighbors start a construction project.  Because Mexican homes usually fill the entire lot, all building materials are left in the street.  And they stay there until the project is completed.  Days.  Weeks.  Months.  Just another obstacle in the street to avoid.

And that is what happened directly across the street from me.  For the past few months, my neighbors have been improving their property.  Yesterday a load of bricks arrived and were stacked in one lane of the street.

The arrangement leaves enough room for traffic to squeeze between the brick pile and the trees in front of my house.  But my comings and goings are restricted.  Getting in and out of my gate is a close-run thing under the best of circumstances, due to the angle of my courtyard and my complete lack of depth perception. 

Pulling forward, I was able to get out barely grazing the bricks.  The trick was putting the truck away when I got home.  I almost felt like one of those professional stunt drivers when I reversed the truck through my gate without damaging my bumper on the bricks or scraping paint on the gate posts.

The chief reason I came to Mexico was to get up each morning having no idea how I would get through the day.  Mexico has kept its side of the bargain.  Each day I am given an opportunity to appreciate the peace at the center of every moment.

And, unlike Fortunato, I have more days to learn something new. 

At least, how to be a better driver.

25 comments:

Todd McIntosh said...

Those are the type of moments that get me thinking about getting one of those ubiquitous scooters you see everywhere.

Andean said...

That "angle" drive, out of those driveways, is quite an exercise, especially in reverse. I was hot before I got in the car, and sweating (for many reasons), before I was able to get out on the road after what felt like an eternity of turning the wheel back and forth. I wondered if this was part of the driving test, as is parallel parking here. At least I have one mastered.

jennifer rose said...

What kind of friends are you keeping who have dinner at 6 p.m. in Mexico anyway?

Steve Cotton said...

 Maybe it is time to resurrect my motorcycle obsession.

Steve Cotton said...

Good ones.  Who get hungry early.

Steve Cotton said...

 Nice to see I can revive such pleasant memories.

Joe Stewart said...

Steve just giving my new avatar a drive. p.s. please send some heat to Oregon. There are no bricks in front of my drive, just teenage drivers!

Steve Cotton said...

 I will take the bricks.

John Calypso said...

Of course I am one of those ubiquitous scooters owners.  That said there are still plenty of obstacles even when you are not much wider than your shoulders.  My theory on the street 'building material depository' is people believe they own at least half of the roadway in front of their casas - some believe all the road mass in front. 

Mexico challenges,,,,

Shannon Casey said...

One of the reasons I love Mexico is that you just never know what it is going to throw at you. My perfect, and favorite, example of that is the day I  was driving into Patzcuaro from Los Tanques and saw a cow at a taco stand. No one else. Just a cow. It was tasting all the condiments on a shelf by the front counter. Ya gotta love it.

Andean said...

You seem to have a knack for that.

Steve Cotton said...

 Perhaps it was in line to be the next taco ingredient.

Steve Cotton said...

 If patience builds characters, I will soon be one of the biggest characters you know.

Ewa Platt said...

what? No comment about the wonderful night?

Mommy with Commuter Husband said...

This post and the comments demonstrate perfectly the attitude required to live in Mexico and appreciate the adventure of it all ...

Steve Cotton said...

 I would not want to instill envy in those who were not present.

Steve Cotton said...

Thanks.  Coming from Mommy Adventurer, that is quite a compliment.

 Any chance the four of you will have another long-term Mexico adventure?

Don Cuevas said...

The two neighborhood taquerías here are backed by cattle corrals. That way, you know the meat is fresh.

Saludos,Don Cuevas 

PS: I've not eaten at either, ever.

Steve Cotton said...

 You betray both your roots as a connoisseur and as a wise man.

al cuban said...

Great show for remembering "The Cask of Amontillado" which I hadn't heard of since high school. I love Mexicans' long-term perspective on construction projects: You build a room and leave the rebar sticking up for another day, maybe years from now, when the money or the inclination to continue building returns to you.

al 

Steve Cotton said...

Those cultural references ramble around in my mind's green room -- just waiting for a moment on stage.

Mommy with Commuter Husband said...

I wish ... life's path has not put us that direction yet but I have not given up the thought ...

Confused Servant said...

"The chief reason I came to Mexico was to get up each morning having no idea how I would get through the day" You sir are a true Barbarian. I think I might be starting to see...

Steve Cotton said...

 The nation beckons your return.

Steve Cotton said...

There is a reason Conan the Barbarian was featured in my laser disc collection.