A new life in Mexico
Last year, I arrived in Mexico from the States. I decided to spend the first few years of my retirement on the inland Mexican Riviera. There are several towns - really just large villages - along the shores of Lake Chapala, which is the biggest lake in Mexico. Two of these are Chapala and Ajijic. The small-town atmosphere, combined with a sizable English-speaking expatriate community appealed to me. Also, the 'world’s best climate' and reasonable rents held a certain allure.
My command of the Spanish language has been variously described as rudimentary, pathetic, or non-existent. Upon my arrival in Chapala, the first order of business was to meet some English-speaking folks. Mostly to get the low-down on rental properties, but also to socialize with members of my own tribe. And what a tribe they were!
I'm 50, happily divorced, my three children have finished college, and I took an early retirement with a pension that is sufficient to my needs. This holds true as long as my needs don't get much past a modest apartment, a night on the town once in a while, and bus fare.
I was given to understand that in the lakeside area, a fellow could retire on a workingman's pension. That’s why I was more than a little surprised to discover more retired generals, admirals, CEOs and millionaires than one would expect in a community this small. Turns out I may be the only retiree in the entire Lakeside area who didn’t lead my college team to a national championship. I also didn't marry the homecoming queen, raise absolutely perfect children or revolutionize any industry.
Well, I was pleased to be in such illustrious company. I had to share the news with someone. But who? I can't tell the very people I want to brag about how excited I am to be in their presence. I call my 'go-to" gal, the one person I can "go to" with a problem, question, whatever, my mother back in Florida. I know she'll be pleased to hear that her boy has done well. Actually, I haven't done so well. But, I’m associating with war heroes, captains of industry, sports stars and the like. Mom's gonna be proud!
I tell her all about my new friends and their exploits, and she just laughs. "You're kidding, aren't you, son?"
"No, mom, really. You should hear some of the incredible stories."
"That's right," she says. "They're stories! Nobody down there has told you about border promotions?"
"Not a word! Jesus, mom, you can't mean that all these people are lying??" I asked incredulously.
"Not lying, Doc, it's just as we get older we like our memories to be what we want them to be. We want our lives to be better, nicer, greater. We know that we may not have a lot longer here, and we just want to feel good about ourselves," she replied. "I'm sure that nobody meant any harm. You're probably one of the youngest down there. Give it some time. And be sure to show respect. Your time will come. I suppose it won't be long before you have some stories of your own."
"Thanks, mom. I'd better go now. I'll call you next week. Love you."
"Bye, Doc. Take care of yourself"
I've been down here about eight months. I have a lot of friends. They seem to be impressed with my Doctorate from Harvard, and the Medal of Honor I won in Vietnam hasn't hurt. Mostly, though, they like that I'm pals with Bill Clinton, and that I bought Apple stock when it was first issued, and....