Sae vehicle
They sell all manner of armored vehicles mostly SUVs. I have wondered if or when we would see ads for armoring RVs or Motorhomes. Seems like an excellent idea from all the news the last ten years, of...
Forum Discussion
The trick is not how to read the newspaper, it is how to prevent you yourself from becoming an article...
There are people who live here. I live in the middle of Tierra Caliente. When the people in Mexico at the embassy learn where I live, the look on their face is like I have chosen to live in the Korean DMZ or at Kandahar in Afghanistan.
Why is it some of us manage to thrive in "red zone" areas? Is it blind luck. An ability to control the roulette wheel of safety? No sense in discussing it since the person is stupid enough to live there?
Shut your eyes and close your ears to remarks from people who live here. Now -that's- the way to learn. Absorb and commit to bible grade confidence articles written by reporters written in New York City and on Reforma Ave in Mexico. You know, the ones who convince you they are salty because they eat a burrito once a week.
Very few authentic old-timers are vociferous. They have given up and have long become silent. Mexicanos on the other hand are like Americans who gaze in wonder as busloads of Japanese tourists debark and start snapping a thousand images of Yosemite Park. Mexicanos would feel no less uncomfortable barging into a group of Americanos than you would approaching the Japanese.
"Most are nice but some are clueless" Brenda remarks about her very limited encounters with Americans in Lazaro. When Jesus and I brought lobster to a tourist enclave and sold it, the local gringo net maven screamed his head off that the season had been closed and the lobsters were poached. As people purchased kilos they noted the laminated plastic PESCA license hanging around Jeeus' neck. "What the heck?" a man quipped is "x" screaming about? The fool has no more business trying to pass himself off as an informed individual than I do playing the part of a martian.
I once remarked that I could go to a gringo resort bar in the winter, and meet more ex-Vietman helicopter door gunners, clandestine CIA agents, Astronauts, DOT.com billionaires, and corporate CEO's in one week, than I had met in the USA in thirty years.
"And what do -you- do?" as all eyes fall upon me...
"Well, I'm an electrical engineer -- electrical storage batteries"
I might have well answered "I park cars" or "Flip burgers"
The BS gets so thick I suffocate and have to leave.
But some people CRAVE hearing this junk. They are addicted to it. If it isn't outrageous then it cannot possibly be of interest.
Mexico is just the poor neighbor of the USA who had inherent structural weaknesses that tons of fetid money from utterly clueless gringo criminals managed to utterly corrupt. And like all things gringo if it shows weakness then treat it like a pinata.
There are people who live here. I live in the middle of Tierra Caliente. When the people in Mexico at the embassy learn where I live, the look on their face is like I have chosen to live in the Korean DMZ or at Kandahar in Afghanistan.
Why is it some of us manage to thrive in "red zone" areas? Is it blind luck. An ability to control the roulette wheel of safety? No sense in discussing it since the person is stupid enough to live there?
Shut your eyes and close your ears to remarks from people who live here. Now -that's- the way to learn. Absorb and commit to bible grade confidence articles written by reporters written in New York City and on Reforma Ave in Mexico. You know, the ones who convince you they are salty because they eat a burrito once a week.
Very few authentic old-timers are vociferous. They have given up and have long become silent. Mexicanos on the other hand are like Americans who gaze in wonder as busloads of Japanese tourists debark and start snapping a thousand images of Yosemite Park. Mexicanos would feel no less uncomfortable barging into a group of Americanos than you would approaching the Japanese.
"Most are nice but some are clueless" Brenda remarks about her very limited encounters with Americans in Lazaro. When Jesus and I brought lobster to a tourist enclave and sold it, the local gringo net maven screamed his head off that the season had been closed and the lobsters were poached. As people purchased kilos they noted the laminated plastic PESCA license hanging around Jeeus' neck. "What the heck?" a man quipped is "x" screaming about? The fool has no more business trying to pass himself off as an informed individual than I do playing the part of a martian.
I once remarked that I could go to a gringo resort bar in the winter, and meet more ex-Vietman helicopter door gunners, clandestine CIA agents, Astronauts, DOT.com billionaires, and corporate CEO's in one week, than I had met in the USA in thirty years.
"And what do -you- do?" as all eyes fall upon me...
"Well, I'm an electrical engineer -- electrical storage batteries"
I might have well answered "I park cars" or "Flip burgers"
The BS gets so thick I suffocate and have to leave.
But some people CRAVE hearing this junk. They are addicted to it. If it isn't outrageous then it cannot possibly be of interest.
Mexico is just the poor neighbor of the USA who had inherent structural weaknesses that tons of fetid money from utterly clueless gringo criminals managed to utterly corrupt. And like all things gringo if it shows weakness then treat it like a pinata.
