Monday, December 02, 2013
crossing the border
I don't need to take a Mexican citizenship test; I have already crossed over.
That is the only explanation for a recent event -- at least, the only explanation that would pass the rigors of Occam's razor. Let me tell you a tale. And you be the judge.
Just before I headed out the door to Baja, I was in my bathroom taking care of my morning ablutions. I grabbed a stick of deodorant and whipped it out of the medicine cabinet.
Unfortunately, what I grabbed was the cap, and it did exactly what it was engineered to do when subjected to centrifugal force. It released. Leaving me with a cap in my hand, and the body smashed against the bathroom floor.
It may have survived a crash landing in a northern bathroom. But Mexican bathrooms are hard places.
The result? The plastic on the right corner of the body was smashed open like a watermelon at a Gallagher concert.
Five years ago, it would have made its way to my Salem trash can. But I am a new man down Mexico way.
I looked at it and saw an obvious use for this almost-new stick of deodorant. I could use my finger to dip out a daily supply for ready application. And, as a bonus, the cap still fit.
It was perfectly serviceable and worth keeping. The opinion any self-respecting Mexican would have chosen. So, there it sits in my Mexican medicine cabinet awaiting my return.
When I sit down to take that citizenship test, I expect some bonus points. After all, I have begun to think like a true Mexican.
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