Dear Sam,
My wife and I have just returned from eight days out of the country, driving the entire north/south length of Mexico and back, and let me tell you……it is GREAT to be back in the good old US of A.
Once inside Mexico, the trip began innocently enough as we got an early start at sun-up. Leaving before breakfast, Judy asked me to stop at the first mexican tienda (market for you and me, Sam) we passed so she could, in her words, "savor the flavor of latin cuisine." Then just five minutes later we stopped for a toll booth where Mexicans and their squeegies and assorted wears were circling our vehicle like a band of Indians. We kept waving them off. Then Judy saw a poor little dog, wearing his skeleton as an outer garment, and threw him half of her breakfast sandwich.
After passing the tollbooth, Judy began feeling mighty poorly and wanted me to pull off to the side of the road. I couldn't stop quickly enough so it was a good thing that she still had the plastic bag from her sandwich, because she filled it with more volume than she had ingested. After a few more minutes, she was adamant that we had to stop. So I pulled over as best I could, angling the car so that passing motorists could not see where the "flavor of Mexico" was coming from now. I also had to sacrifice a handkerchief.
Judy was dumbfounded as to why she had become so violently ill. I told her that it didn't take a Feed Chemist to figure out that when a dog, looking like he just crossed the border of Ethiopia, wouldn't eat your sandwich that therein lies the latino problemo.
Sam, I know I curse the USDA and the FDA, but I don't think that particular flavor of Mexico would have passed their standards.
The next day, we made it to Mexico City during the morning rush hour. We were moving along at about 10 kilometers per hour (that's about 5 MPH for us) when two policeman on a motorcycle pulled alongside and politely asked us to pull over. Unbeknownst to us, foreigners are not allowed on their streets between 6 a.m. and 11 a.m. Through my interpreter/wife, he said we could be on our way for only $600 U.S. Judy told him no that we were just farmers and didn't have that kind of money. So he said, "How much do you have?"
I am now certain, since Judy has reminded me of it each day of our "vacation," that she could have negotiated a much lower fee than I ended up paying, but he did give us a "get out of jail free" card, written on a torn sheet of notebook paper, that was supposed to be good for the rest of our trip through their fine city.
I know I bad-mouth the patrolmen that give me real tickets back home, but geez, at least their fees are set, and I am obliged to send the money into the department, not have it divvied up between two policemen at the back of my car.
And don't get me started on the drivers in Mexico! Now I know where NASCAR sends its rookies to learn how to trade paint. I don't think I saw a car on our entire trip that had its original paint on any of the four corners. In and out and in and out at speeds that are phenomenal. Most of the toll-ways were three lanes per side. The right lane was fast, the center lane was really fast, and the left lane could only be described as "drive like h___!" I will never again complain about my wife's driving because, comparatively speaking, she drives slowly and carefully.
All in all, I got to see a lot of very beautiful country and meet a lot of very amiable people. I learned 'mucho' about the country, culture, and – of course – Mexican agriculture. I marveled at how they do so much with so little but, Sam, I gotta tell you, I will never take my family for granted again, especially my favorite Uncle. When I crossed back over the Rio Grande today and saw our flag waving in the South Texas wind, I stepped out of the car and kissed your glorious feet (and I haven't ever been that fond of South Texas). I now appreciate your little perks like safe food and knowing that your officers are just doing their job and not attempting to profit from my mistakes. I have rediscovered that you have the greatest thing going in the world. I haven't told you enough, but I thank you for that, Sam, and God bless you.
Jerry Crownover is a farmer and a former professor of Agriculture Education at Missouri State University. He is a native of Baxter County, Arkansas, and an author and professional speaker. To contact Jerry about his books or to arrange speaking engagements, you may contact him by calling 1-866-532-1960 or visiting www.ozarksfn.com and clicking on 'Contact Us.'
