Dear Coterie of Continual Fans,
Yes, following my emergency therapy for acute depression I am nearly officially out of it, though the ground remains a little thin under my feet.
Dr. Paul Tournier once wrote that "The tragedy of modern medicine is the fact that patients often get better before they understand the meaning of their illness."
I couldn't disagree more. Biological depression should always be treated as an emergency and stamped out like a cockroach.
The good news is that Kathleen's hearing mold arrived, courtesy of sister Elisa, and upon attaching said apparatus to her external ear, her first remark was: "God, the world is so noisy! Imagine the solitude of the deaf. It could at times be blissful, I suppose. But I'm so happy that she can hear me now when I tell her I think she's cheating at rummy. (Rummy?)
Another piece of good news is that armed with two private lawyers the ADA folded and the police finally forced our former maid, Maria, to open her house for inspection. Our list of possessions was confirmed. The ADA then called Maria and insisted she return Kathleen's hearing-ear dog, Kenyon, today. Some personal possessions may follow in a week or two and then, perhaps, we can finally be free of the clutches of Mexico which has been holding on to my ass like the jumping cholla cactus or the dreaded prickly Mesquite.
Bad place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there.
Then I'm in central, not coastal, Mexico. I did like Puerto Vallarta and Mazatlan. Don't know how long I could take it there, though.
Come to San Miguel de Allende if you want:
1) Terrible smog, traffic congestion, and lethal diesel fumes from unregulated buses.
2) Theft of anything not tied down.
3) Constant attack of amoebas, worms and toxic bacteria, endemic to the area, and spread mainly by the fecal-oral route. Since some are also in the l0cal water supply, washing your hands is not sufficient, and amoebic cysts can live for days on a bus rail. We carry alcoh0l-iodine gel around and I refuse to shake hands with any0ne, including Gringos, instead rapping knuckles as I say: "No amoebas."
4) Worse Mexican food than you can get in LA. Haven't had a decent tamale or taco yet, though the carnitas are good.
5) Rapidly inflating house prices and prices of pricey goods due to the invasion of North Americans, now at least 10% of the population here, mostly retired but still functioning alcoholics, the women of which have gotten cheap face lifts. Call Madame Trousseau.
6) A surrounding ecosystem practically devoid of animal life save birds; I think the Mexicans have eaten everything, though I have seen one lizard and a turtle in over 2 years. Also the mixed catcus-scrub-mesquite flora lacks any verticality; when I visit San Diego even am so relieved by the trees--not to mention the lack of dust and the clean air.
7) The literalism and concrete thinking of the natives, as well as the pretentions to art by retired Gringos who suddenly think they can paint or perform as they pay for classes by other equally inept artists. I try to be polite but wish I could shout: You all suck, suck, suck! (As artists, I mean, not persons.)
Then the booze is cheap--except our favorite form, wine, which is overpriced, and some of the women are beautifully exotic.
I may plaster these points on walls here before exiting.
I've been off cigarettes 40 days and Kathleen for near 20. God bless America and invisible Doonesbury Centurion President Shrub!
My my, if we pull out now we will have wasted all those lives. So let's stay for years than more will not have died in vain.
Thine as ever, over and out,
C. E. Chaffin