too cool

I almost never post twice in one day. And never within an hour of my last post.

But I had to share this with you.

Because my toiletries are in my luggage at the airport on this unplanned layover in Los Angeles, I was without deodorant, a comb, a toothrush, and toothpaste.

In most hotels these days that is not a problem. The front desk is usually well-stocked with kits to tide over the un-toiletried traveler.

The desk clerk had everything I needed at hand -- with the exception of a toothbrush. He said Winnie would bring it to my room.

When I opened my door, I thought I was going to see one of the staff. Well, I guess she is staff. But I meant human staff.

It was a robot. All shiny, beeping, and flashing lights. Just like R2D2, but her name is Winnie the Butler. With my toothbrush.

I took the toothbrush, and Winnie asked me if I was satisfied and if I needed anything more. All of this, of course, was on her screen.

I almost feel like George Jetson this evening.

a break in the continuum

I do not believe in omens.

But I do believe in a good story.

Today was the first leg of my trip to India. And just to confuse matters, the first leg has three steps. I left Manzanillo this afternoon in the not unreasonable expectation that I would fly to Los Angeles, board a plane to Seattle, and then get on a third plane -- a commuter -- to Redmond, Oregon.

In theory, I should be boarding that flight to Seattle right now. Instead, I am sitting in a room at the Embassy Suites at the Los Angeles airport writing to you.

While waiting for my luggage to arrive, I received a message that my flight to Seattle had been canceled -- and I had not yet been booked on another flight. Not that it mattered. The flight I was scheduled to be on was the only one that would get me to Seattle on time for the last flight of the day to Redmond.

So, off I trundled to the Alaska Customer Service desk. Though I know better than to ask the question, I could not help myself. "Why was the flight canceled?" The customer service representative did not know. I did not expect that she would. The reasons for flight cancellations seem to be hidden from the public to avoid scaring the horses in the street.

So, we set off on our mutual problem of "getting-Steve-on-an-airplane." The first two options were either a flight to Portland or Seattle. Both options would mean spending a night before I could fly on to Redmond tomorrow morning. Then, she offered a third option I had forgotten about.

I believe it was at the first of the year that Alaska started flying direct from Redmond to Los Angeles, and a seat was available. I took that option.

Tonight I am staying in a very comfortable Embassy Suites room -- on Alaska's buck. Or, more accurately, on the bucks that all of us pay to Alaska for such contingencies. Milton Friedman would be doing the black box rhumba in his grave if I thought I was actually getting something for free.

Tomorrow morning I will be up at the break of dawn to fly to Redmond to start my 6 days there before I need to make a final decision on whether I will be flying to Dubai.

And that brings me to my last point. Those of you who read my posts on two Mexican Facebook groups will not see me there until I return to Mexico. After all, those sites are Mexico-oriented.

If you want to follow my progress on this trip, I will be posting on Mexpatriate and linking those essays to my Facebook page.

As for this break in travel being an omen: I doubt it. It is just another way of reminding me that my plans, like everyone's plans, are not worth much.

Besides, the Levitical code has some rather nasty things to say about soothsayers. 

jumping the print tope

It never fails.

I am getting ready for a trip, and the departure date appears to be a magnet for the little complications of life. Of course, that is an illusion. The complications are always there. They just look larger because of the lack of time to deal with them.

Thus I indulge in triage -- the medical process of dividing the injured into survivability groups. And that is a bit problematic for this trip to south Asia and the Middle East. I think I could be away from Mexico for up to five weeks. If I end up in some sort of quarantine, it could be longer. Or I might fly to Oregon for a week and then cancel the trip -- and be back to Mexico before the end of next week.

That means that most of this week's complications have been stacked in the "this-will-keep-until-I-return-unless-it-dies-of-its-own-accord" pile. Laundry. Trimming the vines. That sort of thing.

But some problems call out for an immediate resolution. A broken printer, for instance.

The Mexican Pacific coast is not kind to electronic devices. I have lost track of the number of printers I have junked in my decade-plus of battling the brine and humidity. But I usually have time to make a reasoned purchase decision. Not this time.

On Sunday, I tried to print several documents I will need for the cruise. The printer has been acting up since last summer, but I have managed to trick it into working -- until this week. For reasons saline, I suspect, the circuit to the printer heads refused to recognize three new ink cartridges.

My options were limited. There was no time to repair it. So, I drove to Manzanillo yesterday to buy a replacement at Office Depot. As luck would have it, a sale had ended on Sunday and the offerings were limited. But I grabbed the closest match to my dead printer and headed home.

My plan was to set up the printer this morning in a short break between choosing clothes to be packed for tomorrow's flight. After all, we live in a wondrous age where all peripherals are "plug and play." Or so the tech-gods say. And like any gullible voter, I buy the promise.

What I thought (and should have known better) was going to be a fifteen-minute break from packing ended up costing me three hours. The easy part was unpacking everything. After that, the patience test began.

This printer does not operate with ink cartridges. It has a tank for the four inks. The procedure was easy, but tedious. I rather like the idea of an external ink tank where I can see actual levels rather than those mythical "esrtimated" levels on my old printer.

Then I hit a wall. I could not get the printer heads to properly seat. When I did, they did not complete the electrical circuit. After three tries, they were ready.

The next step was to request the computer to align its printer heads. It refused. After a half-hour search on the internet, I isolated the problem by installing a software patch. After that, the only thing I lost was more time while the software connected my printer to the house's wireless network.

I know we are supposed to feel grateful that we live in such a brave new world of technological wonders. And I usually am. Even though I have dropped out of the front lines of the tech-revolution, I find plenty of uses for my electronic devices.

But it seems like some devices are getting more difficult to install. "Plug and play" is still the chimera that never quite arrived.

Maybe we should just re-christen it as a "single player system."  

bowls to india

Something pulled me out of sleep this morning. I suspect it was the chacalacas.

A mating pair has been singing their romantic tunes in the trees surrounding my house most mornings with their "I-can't-quite-get-this-Model-T-to-turn-over" calls. (I have posted a Youtube video of chacalaca calls at the end of this piece.)

For the past few days, I have been having conversations with my India cruise traveling partners. The three of them are close to electing to bypass the trip. Two of them have bad coughs that they are understandably concerned would leave them stranded somewhere along the way, and all three are concerned about being quarantined somewhere. The coronavirus itself is just an afterthought.

I am still considering whether I should go or not. Two years ago I cancelled a similar trip in favor of a wedding in Disneyland. I do not regret that decision -- at all. But I want to see that part of Asia before I can no longer make the trip physically.

Our minds are very suggestible. While pondering the trip, I pulled some ingredients out of the refrigerator and off of the counter for breakfast. Leftover ham. Eggs. Serranos. Red bell pepper. Onion. Garlic. Ginger. Tomatoes.

Without any end-product in mind, I fried some black mustard seed in bacon grease and then added the vegetables and ham by flavor layers. Before I added the eggs, I decided to add some spices. Home-made garam masala, turmeric, and cumin sounded like a good combination.*

Sometimes my impromptu dishes do not quite work out as I had planned. This one did.

With my first bite, I knew I had eaten something similar in the past. The combination of the eggs, vegetables, and spices were distinctive. This is happening more and more to me. I will "invent" a dish and discover it is the vestigial memory of a meal in a place I cannot quite recall.

Or as Billy Collins would say (and did in "Forgetfulness"):

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

I hit this one on the first try on the internet. It is very similar to akoori -- an Indian scrambled egg dish. Mine is just a tarted-up version. But, it made my tea choice easy this morning. A pot of chai.

The discovery that I am channeling my inner Indian cook provided a comforting thought. If I do not get to India next month, I can create a bit of India in my patio. Or, rather, Indian-Mexican-Middle East fusion.

For now, that may be good enough.


 

* -- In a sad side-note, I broke the bottle of turmeric. It was my last one. It looked as if an Indian festival had wended its way through my kitchen.

putting the gras in mardi

My friends in Oregon and Nevada frequently ask me how I spend my days in these Mexican villages by the sea.

There are a lot of answers to that question. The only limitation is one's imagination.

Anyone who does not want to indulge in self-amusement can fall back on the never-ending parade of events that are manufactured here. This week, it is Carnaval.

My blogger pal Felipe in Pátzcuaro recently escaped Carnaval in his village by exchanging it for a Venice-touristy trip to Guanajato( grape leaves in guanajuato). I am staying put for ours. It starts later this afternoon.

Rather than telling you about the version of Carnaval that hangs out here, I will simply re-print the announcement that greeted me this morning on Facebook.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

CARNAVAL STARTS TODAY!

There is so much going on! Take your vitamins and drink your coffee black to stay alert and jazzed:
Today starts with the parade at 5:00 pm on the Nueva Espana near the new OXXO.  It will go to the town square.

The event opens with a few words from the President of Cihuatlan, Fernando Martinez Guerrero. There will be "burning of mal humor," leaving all the "bad vibes" behind. 

And then it's all about the foreigners! The Foreign community presents their candidates for Queen and King of Carnaval at 7:30. There will be live music, 50/50, carnaval "bling" on sale and more.

Saturday's events start at 8:00 pm and include ballet performances, music and presentations and introduction of the candidates for carnaval queen with representatives from several local municipalities vying for the title.

Sunday is jammed packed, starting with the FUN RUN FOR A PURPOSE at 8:00 am. Sign up now or at the event. You'll run from the town square to the gym along the walkway to Jaluco and back. 5 km. I know you can do it!

Then there's the fish fest, with restaurants selling tastes of fish cooked in lots of different ways for your enjoyment. 

There is entertainment during the evening in the town square including the popular talented Singing Kids (Jorge and Nathaly) AND a performance by the magical Vegas-Style Angeles Locos Dancers and so much more!

What an amazing time to be in Barra!

This is only a few things on the schedule. There's more! Wait for it! Carnaval continues until next Tuesday. Don't go anywhere!

hugs, Linda

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

There it is. Now, it is your turn to comment.

strike three

The local political hotline is buzzing.

And, to northern eyes, it seems like an odd topic for so much angst.

Despite its reputation for being a land of fiestas, Mexico has only seven statutory holidays -- one of the fewest of any nation. They are: New Year's day, Constitution day, Benito Juarez's birthday, Labor day, Independence day, Revolution day, and Christmas day. There are other recognized holidays, but these are paid holidays. If the employer requires workers to work on any of those days, he must pay them triple wages.

Since 2006, three holidays have been held on a Monday, rather than the date of its historical occurrence. Constitution day is held on the first Monday in February, Benito Juarez's birthday on the third Monday in March, and Revolution day on the third Monday of November. Those days are known as bridges (puentes).

If AMLO, Mexico's current president, has his way, those three dates will return to the day on which they occurred. He will send a proposal to the Mexican Congress at the end of this school year setting out the details of the shift. One idea that has been floated is to add two weeks on to the current six-week school vacation in the summer.

The 2006 law should sound familiar to the residents of most countries. Re-purposing vacation days to create a long weekend has been common for decades.

The stated reason for three-day weekends is to give workers a bonus opportunity to spend more time with their families. And Mexican families put those days to good use -- if our little villages by the sea are any measure.

I need to add a personal confession here. When The States morphed Washington's birthday (re-named as that nomad-apostrophe President day), Memorial day, Veterans day, and Columbus day, I reacted in opposition. Oddly, AMLO's justification for re-creating Mexico's holidays as historical events, was every bit as reactionary as my own: "I know that it will create controversy, but those who don’t know where they come from don’t know where they’re going."

In response to criticism that moving the days will adversely affect the social well-being of Mexican citizens who relieve stress on the long weekends and that tourist areas will suffer with the elimination of the bridge days, he used one of those diversionary responses that put him in the presidency: “We’re doing a lot of things that are helping tourism grow. We’re cleaning beaches, we’re building the Maya Train and working to increase road security. So this won’t impact tourism. On the contrary, we’ll be affected if we forget our past.”

None of the Mexicans I have talked with are convinced. Since 2006 they have acclimated to three-day weekends just as quickly as I adapted to the migration of Veterans day. Three-day holidays just seem normal to me now. I doubt I would join any movement to move the clock back. (I save that reactionary spirit for the actual rolling back of time associated with daylight saving time.)

Most of the people I know here make all of their living from tourism. And three-day weekends help fill the till.

Will it happen? If AMLO wants it to happen, it will. His MORENA party (along with both left- and right-wing parties in his coalition) control both houses of Congress.

But do not underestimate the populist power of the Mexican public. At heart, AMLO is every bit the populist as any peronista. It will be interesting to see if the Mexican public will relinquish their nine days of vacation. For obvious reasons, two weeks of non-paid vacation just does not sound as enticing as three days of paid vacation.

On this point, though, I am just an observer. After all, I spend life (and my money) as if life were a three-day weekend.

Or, as P.J. O'Rourke puts it: "It's better to spend money like there's no tomorrow than to spend tonight like there's no money."   

putting the case to bed

Some stories never end.

Two weeks ago, I had two flats on a trip to the Mexican highlands. One flat is a nuisance. But two flats are the stuff that stories are made of.

When I returned to Barra de Navidad, I was driving on three different sizes of tires. The front tires were fine. But the right rear tire was a spare and the left rear tire was an emergency-buy in Guadalajara to replace one of the flats. And it was an inch larger than the front two tires.

Mixed tires are a safety nerd's nightmare. For good reason. My braking system was thoroughly confused by the combination. I needed new tires. Quadruplets.

Before I could get new tires, though, I had the suspension problem fixed that started this house-that-Jack-built problem. And, then, as you know, I lost two more days getting my battery replaced. (I am still wondering which genius engineer at Ford thought it was a good idea to tuck the battery under the dashboard.)

Then came the easy part. I drove to Manzanillo this morning and left The Great Escape with at a tire shop to be outfitted with four new tires. By the time I returned from Telcel and Office Depot, my SUV was ready to hit the road. Les Schwab could not have been more efficient.

Well, I was ready to hit the road just as soon as I let the cashier ring up $7,472 (Mx) on my credit card -- about $387 (US). That was the most expensive part of this little repair exercise. But it was pesos well-spent.

I almost floated home like a cloud. Well, like a cloud caught in a jet stream. The ride was smooth and fast.

But, as I suspected yesterday, this tale is not yet done. The mechanic invited me to an impromptu walk-around under the car while it was on the lift -- something that should have made a liability insurance attorney wince. The interior of two of the wheels were noticeablly damaged as if a metallic Woody Woodpecker had had his way with them, and a third wheel had a small crack that made it problematic to get a good seal on the bead.

I have known about the crack for almost two years (class photo). A local mechanic discovered it in May 2018 and told me I could pay for a new wheel or I could periodically add some free air to the tire. He called the second option the "Mexican choice." I took it.

But it looks as if time has given me an opprtunity to pick the first option. If I need to replace two wheels, I may as well replace all four. They can wait, though, until I return from India. I need to do a bit of research on where to order a full set.

For now, though, I am considering The Odd Case of the Exploding Tires to be closed.

It is about time to move on to some other area of life's little malfunctions. Maybe the house.