XCALAK

As I wrote in an earlier edition of West of Denver, several weeks ago the wife and I ventured south of the border for a week of sunny relaxation. It had been some years since we had been to the Yucatan and we were looking forward to seeing some familiar sights. The minute that we arrived there we realized that those familiar sights were probably no longer in existence.

Driving south from Cancun, Mexico it was impossible to not notice the changes that have occurred in the past 20 years. First of all, the Cancun airport, once a modest single terminal building, now occupies three terminals. There are now non-stop flights from London, believe it or not. The two-lane road south of Cancun is now a four-lane highway. Once a sleepy little town boasting a lone phone booth in the town square, Playa Del Carmen is now a major metropolis featuring Wal-Mart and Sam's Club. The highway at Playa Del Carmen is a flyover designed to avoid the in-town traffic. Development of the tourist areas stretches as far south as Tulum and beyond. High-end golf resorts now occupy the land that was once a pristine jungle. All the while, motorists driving south are bombarded with billboards and signs proclaiming the unspoiled Yucatan and its beautiful beaches.

Four hours south of Cancun we finally exited the tourist areas and got back to the roots of the Yucatan. It happened around the town of Limones where all signs of tourism suddenly disappeared and dense jungle occupied our view on both sides of the bumpy two-lane road. Colorful birds were abundant and the occasional iguana caught our eye. On the sides of the road there were occasional fruit stands with smiling vendors anxious to make a sale before the end of the day. This was the Yucatan as we remembered it.

Soon, our five and one-half hour drive was over and we had arrived in Xcalak. The road through town was a dirt road and there seemed to be an ever-present dog or two sleeping in the middle of the main street. When the rare motorist drove through town they politely drove around them so as not to disturb a good nap.

In town there were several eating places, filled with eclectic groups of people with the occasional canine or feline visitor searching for a misplaced scrap of food. If you left your table for even the shortest of time, a small bird was quick to fly in and grab a bite of your tortilla and fly away to enjoy its winnings.

The nearest gas station to Xcalak is 40 miles away. Thre are two small Mom and Pop stores in town whose supplies are intermittent at best. Similarly, electricity regularly disappears and reappears. The locals aren't too concerned about this as that's the way it has always been; nice to have it...no big deal if it's gone for a while.

There are several places to stay in Xcalak, none of which is particularly elegant. The bugs can be pesky but no one seems to complain about them. The ocean and the reef systems are quite beautiful and unspoiled. Unlike several hours north of Xcalak, there were no wave runners, parachutes, hang gliders or beach vendors. One day we saw a lone wind surfer; that was the extent of the "action" that we saw on the beach.

In all, it's a pretty boring place. And we loved every minute of it.

If you are looking for a real Mexico experience, I would encourage you to visit Xcalak. Although it is likely to change over time, for the present at least, it remains a wonderful vestige of what the Yucatan once was.


Readers, enjoy your day.

WHEN TO RETIRE

One cannot help but read the barrage of headlines in the media and on the Internet about the ideal time for workers to retire. All of them (which is to say I have never seen one that varied from this) deal with how much money one needs. I have seen ones that vary from $500,000 to $2,500,000.

How can something with this much variability have any degree of accuracy? The fact is that it does not and most of these articles are pure crap. Could it be a dastardly plot to keep the working schmucks of the world tethered to their jobs? Hmmmm.

I am writing this because the wife announced last week that she wanted to retire...soon...very soon. Thoughts of spending endless sunny days with my beloved wife danced through my head. Of long walks with our dog. Of enjoying many sunsets while sipping a fine wine.

The thought of money never crossed my mind.

The fact is that people should retire not when they have enough money but when they are sick of working. In fact, virtually every retired person that I know has told me the same story and, with limited variability, I hear the same phrase: "I retired because I was sick of the crap."

To that I say "bravo"; it is refreshing to see people take control of their lives.

So, to the dear wife I say: let's spend endless sunny days together and take long walks with the dog and, lastly, let's enjoy many sunsets while sipping a fine wine.

Let's make it cheap boxed wine; it's all we can afford.


Readers, enjoy your day.

ADVENTURE IN MOVING

"Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe”
   -  Anatole France

"Heaven help you if you ever become stable"
   -  College philosophy professor whose name I can't recall

I grew up on a steady diet of adventure. I read many books on mountain climbing, deep sea fishing, and life on the open ocean. I reveled in the adventures of John Gunther's "High Road" series and couldn't get enough of Colonel John D. Craig and the show "Sea Hunt" with Lloyd Bridges. Luckily, the wife, though also very adventurous, has been a stabilizing force in my life and has steadfastly refused to be part of the many adventure schemes that I have cooked up over the past 30 years. Thus, our life aboard the 42-foot ocean catamaran was never to be, nor was the Cactie Restaurant, living in Belize or...many more. Her stability is a good thing as we would have had to declare bankruptcy many years ago had she blindly followed my every adventure whim.

Accordingly, it was with great surprise that in January she proposed that we relocate. After picking myself off the floor I asked the usual questions, the first of which was "why?" Well, it looks as if the wife's spirit of adventure kicked in as it does from time to time. To be sure, I am not opposed to relocating, in fact, the idea is very appealing.

After much discussion as to the "why", we came to the conclusion that in our older years it would be better if we lived in a more temperate climate. Translated: not as much snow. Mind you, we have lived in the wonderfully temperate climate of New Mexico for nine years and enjoyed it immensely. The summers were hot but not unbearably so and the winters were pleasantly cool.

Still though, there was an "experience" that we were seeking - something new, different, exciting and a little crazy. Probably the most "crazy" thing that one can do is to buy a house that one has never seen that is located in a town to which one has never been.

We did it.

In all fairness, with today's technology and the fact that we have friends in the town to which we are moving acting as eyes and ears for us, the idea, while being crazy, is not completely insane (although some may argue that point).

Where are we relocating?

West of Denver, of course.


Readers, enjoy your day.

MEDIEVAL TORTURE

Did you know that there is a Museum of Medieval Torture? I'm not joking. This prime tourist attraction is in Amsterdam. If you go to their website (www.tortureamsterdam.com)...and you know you will...you will find the following description of this incredible palace of torture devices:

The Museum

In the Middle Ages, Torture was a widely known punishment for almost all crimes committed, ranging from rape to murder, and above all for heresy. The type of punishment depended on the victim’s crime and social status. The Museum of Medieval Torture Instruments displays over 100 devices used to torture people during medieval times. This unique collection, recreated by pictures and drawings, serves as a grim reminder of how poorly humans can treat one another. As you look at the devices and read about how they were used, you’ll cringe… you leave thankful our society has pasted (sic) the dark ages behind.

I am indeed thankful that torture in civilized societies is a thing of the past. The exceptions to this are, of course, Justin Bieber, Dancing With the Stars, asparagus and the Denver Nuggets. The other exception is the shoe that podiatrists force their patients to wear after their foot surgery (see picture below). As an instrument of torture it has no equal. The insidious Velcro bands dig sharply into one's foot thus causing blood to flow in reverse. The sole is as stiff as 3/4" plywood. The overall feeling it gives the wearer is akin to wearing a canoe on his/her foot.

And the torture of wearing it goes on for three weeks. Thankfully, my podiatrist gave me the o.k. to wear normal shoes and go back to my usual routine so long as I'm careful not to burst my healing wound. Guess I'll have to postpone my skydiving and ultra-marathon running for a while.

Before resuming any sense of normalcy to my life I plan to go to the post office today and mail the shoe in question to the torture museum as a donation to their collection of medieval torture artifacts. I'm doing this with the full knowledge that the museum will turn down the donation, however generous it may be.

It's just too cruel a device to display.

Readers, enjoy your day.

YOU ASKED FOR IT

I'm going to post a picture of my foot a week post-surgery but will stall a bit so that if any of you are squeamish (and you know who you are) you may want to skip today's entry.

Looking at today's title I am reminded of a TV show from the 50's of the same name. In this show, people would write in and ask for a particular thing (normally improbable acts) to be shown on-air. For example, someone might write in and say that they would like to see someone go over Niagara Falls in a barrel or see how Harry Houdini did his great escape tricks. One summer evening while driving home, my father stopped at a small roadside family fruit and vegetable stand which was tended by a young girl, presumably a child of the family in question. As my father looked over the items for sale deciding which to buy, the girl appeared to grow impatient with the delay. He asked her if she needed to be someplace else and she explained to my father that "You Asked For It" was about to start and she had written in to request that they show something. My father asked her what she had requested and she replied "I asked them to show a gorilla eating a man".

That was a true story that my father told until the day he died.

O.K., folks, here's what the hoof looks like. The doctor ignored my begging and groveling and wouldn't take out the stitches today....one more week. I think it's because he wants to soak me for more money.

Readers, enjoy your day.

SUBSTANCE

Over the years I have observed that, with age, people, especially women, become more appreciative of substance vs. style. This is not "news" by any means and I think that most people who are even casual social observers will find little revelation in the aforementioned observation. Just the same, hear me out. It's not that anything herein written will dazzle you; I'm more interested in wasting some of your time.

Let's talk about men. We're born shallow and we'll die shallow. Again, no secret there. Women are another story. As they age, they truly learn to better appreciate the essential goodness in people, particularly regarding men. Let's take look at the type of male to which a typical 18-year old female may be attracted. Their desirable male criteria may read as follows:

Has money

Good looking
Captain of the football team
Good dancer
Wears nice clothes
Other females find him desirable
Nice car
Life of the party

By the time women reach the age of 40, their tastes reflect more substantive male criteria. Some of the more superficial entities are gone:

Has money

Good looking
Has a job
Buys lunch
Good dancer
Has insurance

Fifty year old women become even more substantive about desirable males:

Has money

Has a job

Has insurance

By the time women reach the age of sixty or older, all pretenses have disappeared and there are but a few things that are meaningful:

Treats me with respect

Makes me laugh

Knows how to unplug a toilet

So, guys, if you're not a hit with the women, just give it time. They get less fussy as they get older. Treat a woman right and the rest will fall into line.

And make sure you know a little about household plumbing.


Readers, enjoy your day.

HOW MUCH?

Walking down the main street of this charming town of ours I peer at the various signs along the way and in the windows of the various businesses. Many of them proclaim that certain items are "on sale" or cost a certain amount of money. This is especially true of the gasoline station which lets consumers know exactly how much they will pay for their product. The local tavern has a happy hour featuring $1.75 drafts from 4-6 p.m. each day. The bank advertises specials on its "no fees" checking accounts. The muffler store sells mufflers installed for $69.99. Six dollars will get you a ticket to the movies on Tuesdays at the local theater. The Chinese restaurant offers a 40% off "recession special" at lunch. I called the local pool and asked how much a weekend pass to the pool is. They told me accurately and without hesitation.

This is the way things work in our consumer-oriented society. The openness of information about products, services and their respective pricings creates an environment of competition among businesses. This spurs new and better products priced competitively. Everybody wins in this business scenario especially businesses who create and promote new and better products and aggressively promote them.

Now let's try to imagine if this situation were different. My walk down main street would no longer have the inticements which I referred to earlier. I stop in to the theater and ask how much a ticket costs. The clerk tells me that she doesn't know and that I will have to buy a ticket to find out. I ask for the manager who, I am told is unavailable. In utter frustration, I leave. Since it's past lunch time, I walk past the local restaurant. There is no menu in the window for me to peruse and decide whether the food looks good and the price is within my budget. I leave and go to the restaurant next door - same thing. I walk inside and ask for the menu. I am handed a menu but there are no prices listed. I ask for a price list. I am told that I will get the prices after I have finished my meal when they hand me the check. Again, I leave.

It is very hard to imagine living in a society such as the one previously described. But, should you ever have the desire to experience this, call your local medical facility and arrange to have a surgery. Get the date, time and preparatory instructions. Then ask how much the procedure will cost you. If your experience is anything like mine you will get the scripted response: "it depends". If that happens and you have the chutzpah to continue, by all means press on. You will likely be switched to the billing department to an equally indifferent representative who will give you an equally vague response.

I will not belabor this point any further as I am sure that, for most people, this is old news.

In our great country we have been presented with the Affordable Care Act. This is a misnomer and should be renamed the "Available" Care Act in that it makes health care available to all. Despite its name, however, health care in the U.S. is anything but affordable.

How can it be made more affordable? By simply making the system transparent to consumers by making pricing readily available (posting on the Internet, maybe?). Competition in the health care arena will create greater efficiency and lower pricing. Not surprisingly, health care professionals have lobbied vigorously against anything which upsets the status quo. So, while opposing "Socialized Medicine" (based upon a national tax, free health care for all), our health care industry also balks at the notion of a true capitalist, free enterprise system of competition. Their rationale for this opposition ("health care quality will suffer") is not a convincing argument. The same was said about the deregulation of the airline industry: "safety will suffer". In fact, since deregulation, flying has never been safer.

What does the future look like?

For better or worse, due to the extreme and spiraling costs of healthcare and the lack of willingness of the medical community to deal with these costs, socialized medicine, such as those in Canada and the U.K., is inevitable in our country.

From my recent experiences, socialized medicine is looking pretty good. It's a lot like going to the animal shelter to adopt a dog. All the dogs there except one are absolutely beautiful - well-groomed, purebred and dogs that you feel good walking down the street with. At the same time, they are all growling and you and appear to be ready to take your arm off if you venture closer. Then there's the other dog: ugly as hell, matted hair, one ear up, one ear down and scrawny. But he's smiling and wagging his tail.

You take him home, give him the name Socialized Medicine, and love him for the rest of your life despite his faults.

Readers, enjoy your day.