After narrowly avoiding getting locked up in the State Pen, we spent the next morning at the Patagonia library where a wonderfully typical white-haired bespectacled grandmother helped us with printers and copiers while the kids flipped through books. I love small town public libraries. They are something that we in the U.S. should be justifiably proud to have around.
While filling out paperwork to get the registration squared away Ali suddenly blurted out, “Oh, crap!”
“What?”
“Is it 2017 or 2016?” She was pretty sure we had just filled all the paperwork with the wrong date.
We hadn’t.
And this is what happens when you live the way we do.
Paperwork in hand, we scooted over to the equally small-town Post Office where we once again found the stereotypical employee behind the counter. Read: grumpy, scowl-faced, spinster. After assuring us the best she could do was get the envelope there in two days (actually two days and two hours), and promising that that was the best she could guarantee for twenty-three dollars, we paid and left. The envelope arrived promptly THREE days later. I could have trained a pigeon to get it there faster. If I never have to step foot in a U.S. Post Office again it will be too soon. I so wish they were a publicly traded company so I could short them.
The biggest problem with getting ourselves into these little jams with the law/IRS/whoever—and no, this isn’t the first time—is that we end up needing to rely on family back home to square it away for us. Ali’s mom has become our unpaid intern throughout the years. She doesn’t have to fetch us coffee, but she has been called on to forge documents numerous times in the past, or pretend she is Ali on the phone. She didn’t have to forge anything this time, but she did need to run off to the DMV right before they closed on a Friday, and then take that stuff straight over to FedEx. We’re considering taking her on full-time.
After that it was time for lunch. We walked over to the oldest bar/restaurant in town. A classic locals looking place with all the assorted miscellany that tends to collect in old bars. Except now they posted a large screen tv in each corner of the small room and turned off the music. Are we really the only people bothered by this development over the years?
Anyway, we sat down and were looking through the menu, when the manager walked over.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t allow any outside food in the restaurant,” he said, totally straight-faced, while looking at the two oranges and small boxes of raisins sitting in front of our kids.
And that’s when Ali and I spontaneously began to sing, “Rules! Rules! Rules!” sung to Motley Crue’s Girls! Girls! Girls!
Ten minutes later he alerted us that if the kids press the buttons on the jukebox—the quiet jukebox— it might mess it all up and they’ll have to call the company to come reset it.
Duly noted. “Kids, don’t press the buttons on the jukebox.”
“Why, Papa?”
“Rules! Rules! Rules!”
All right, all right, I’m complaining too much. I get it. It’s a byproduct of being in Mexico for so long, where kids are revered and welcomed everywhere, and where, in general, nobody cares what anybody else is doing. I always have a few days readjustment period where all I can do is complain about all the things that irk me here in the States, but then I settle down and go with the flow, knowing full well that it’s only a short interlude. Ali has to spend those few days constantly shushing me, miming the zipper across the lips, and just telling me to stop my complaining.
It doesn’t matter where we go, there are always animals following us around.
Off on a photo walk. I wonder what the kids will find interesting to photograph? Cow pies? Hilarity ensues.
We left Patagonia, still illegal, and passed out of the town limits without any problems, just as the lawman had hinted we might. It was only about twenty miles up the road to Tombstone. The movie Tombstone came out in 1993 when I was a freshman in college. For the next four years—okay, five— that movie, followed by Tommy Boy in 1995, was on virtual repeat in every dorm room or apartment that I lived. If you want to be really annoyed, just sit next to me while I quote Doc Holliday and Tommy Callahan word-for-word twenty years later.
The courthouse building is actually a State Park all by itself, and is filled with a lot of cool stuff. A museum even the kids can enjoy a bit.
I could have strangled the lady at the ice cream shop for her hard sale tactics to get the kids to buy the most disgusting flavor of ice cream imaginable. Cotton Candy? Really?
When in Tombstone, do as the Tombstonians do.
16 Comments on “Attitude Adjustment”
The general lack of insane rules is one of the most refreshing things about living here in Mexico. That, along with the total lack of “political correctness” just makes life simpler. I always like to imagine a U.S. health inspector coming down here on vacation and starving to death!
Lowe’s ice cream stare down is priceless.
This post is hilarious. You are truly going to raise up anarchists.
LOVE the “Rules, rules, rules”
I read the post to the kids this morning as we were attempting to be quiet in a hotel on Kauai that has a silence before 8 policy and they cracked up and started singing Rules, rules, rules, LOL!! 😀
Only a few days of readjustment? You’re a more adaptable man than I am. Hello to all.
Totally get it.
We too are taken aback by all of the “rules, rules, rules” on our occasional trips back to the States to visit family and friends.
We have been 3 year permanent residents of Mexico and love the freedom it provides our children.
I wrote an article titled “Some of My Favorite Things About Mexico” that perhaps will resonate with you and your family. There is a black and white photo in the piece of a rules and regulations code painted into a sidewalk frequented by families with children that really summarizes for me the difference in experience between the two countries.
Best to you and your family,
Katie O’Grady
Los O’Gradys in Mexico
Hilarious … cow pies? This one made the list for my desktop background photos … it craps me up! I only wish I could see Ouest’s face better, she obviously thinks it is funny too.
Good job Mom!
I think it would be great is the residents of Tombstone were called Tombstoners.
How did I miss that? 🙂
Rules, rules, rules…
Sad that is your view
Even sadder is the view I have of Mexico..
Filth, filth, filth..
(And yes…I’ve been there several times)
If that’s your attitude about Mexico, I have to wonder why you are even reading this blog? So negative…
Great …now u have me walking around singing ” rules, rules, rules ” ! And guess what.? We’re one month out from tax day !
That means we are two months away from a call from the MN Department of Revenue. It’s like clockwork.
While I have been living in the Caribbean for 40+ years I also find in my trips stateside that the ‘rules,rules. rules’ attitude affects me there during my travels. It seems like a very different way of life and while I do enjoy some of the conveniences – particularly supermarkets – the Caribbean lifestyle feels like a better fit for me.
I have been reading your travels for many years and wish your whole family well!
I started reading your “blog” during your sailing years. I enjoyed sharing your travels and I appreciated your Joie de Vivre. I understood your frustration with the no sayers or those with a supreme attitude. I still visit your site from time to time, but much less frequently. I work as a surgeon and I know I will never enjoy your freedom. I enjoy my life and helping those in need. I respect your life style and choice. BUT I must give you a little feedback. You need to give a little respect to those that provide services you rely on and sometimes need – like the post office clerk! ” grumpy, scowl-faced, spinster”. Remember, if everyone shared your lifestyle, what services would we have? Remember when your daughter needed medical help? That help does not occur without individuals dedicating their lives to a profession. Professions that require dedication. Even the “grumpy” post office clerk is giving back to society, providing a service you need. Take a step back and reflect on the different choices people make. Respect them!!! You not only need to teach your children this value but you need to practice it before their eyes. Continue to enjoy your life choice!
That shot of Lowe in the tree with his leg hanging down between the limbs needs to be entered in a contest.
I get what you are saying about “Rules Rules Rules”. I came from upstate New York, where the people pretty much believe that if you are stupid enough to do something stupid, then you can die from the consequences, and either way, who cares? Now I live in Pennsylvania, where, oh my goodness! They ADORE a good rule, passed down like an heirloom from their grandparents.