Tuesday, January 18, 2011 — It's nice to be remembered

I have just made the decision to remain at Playa Los Arcos for two more nights because of a change in the schedule for hanging our exhibit at the University museum. Otherwise I would have to have left here today. I quickly opted for two more days of swimming and exercising in this great pool. See today's pic. It's such fun to sit on my balcony and look down at the kids playing ball and outsmarting their watchful parents in all sorts of mischievous ways. It's still so heart warming to me how affectionate the Mexican families are with their children. Many more fathers walking on the malecon carrying infants in carriers and sarongs on their chests. Very touching. Many fathers in charge of their little ones in and around the pool also. In the restaurant beside the pool, there are always young ones from eight to 12 carrying their little siblings or holding their hands as they explore the territory.

Yesterday I walked along the malecon to the steps in the middle of the bridge that used to be the entrance to the Molina de Agua garden hotel where we once loved to stay. Just a few years ago an American (from Modesto, I heard), with the help of Arab money, bulldozed the entire, historical operation: banyon trees, beautifully tiled pools, outdoor restaurants and dance floors, cabanas and other sleeping arrangements. It broke my heart. I sat looking at the monumental replacement from the bridge. Neat as a pin. Huge beyond belief. Still hard to believe.

I moved on to the stairs from the walking bridge and headed east between the two rivers. The first thing you come to is "Oscars," a restaurant that looks out on the river. As I contemplated a cup of tea, the maitre de approached me and convinced me it was time for a break. I hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was already 3:00, so I decided to order a salad. I hadn't been seated for more than four minutes before the guitarist all the way across the room began to play "San Francisco." Then he interrupted his song with a dedication to the woman sitting over by the river and waved to me. I'm quite sure I hadn't been there for over two years. Perhaps ten minutes later he started playing "House of the Rising Sun." That really touched me because I remembered having boasted some years ago during a conversation about the "guitarist's life," that my son, Mike, had played that on Danish radio at age 14. Then the waiter sidled over to me and whispered that he thought "Martin" was playing that song for me also. By that time my heart was so warmed I thanked the gods for sending me in that direction.

I continued my walk up the river and soon began an uncharacteristic shopping exercise. I'll tell you about it when I return to the keyboard after a while. I'm going for a swim. Chao.

I'm back. About that walk...... Some of you know how unusual it is for me to get into a shopping mode. But I had it in my mind to try replacing my fabric shoulder bag I had bought in Tenacatita. Its zipper had failed and I hadn't repaired it in time for the trip. I began searching each booth and boutique as I moved east on the river trail. Looking for something a little larger than most of the bags I was seeing. But, no writing on it, please. Then I began finding the right type and the search changed to finding the right fabric, right colors, not too many flowers, etc. Found several and began "wondering" about the price. Offers were made and I promised I was walking as far as the next bridge but would return. More offers. Got to the bridge and turned left to explore a favorite big market just on the other side of the river. Bought a bathing suit there and returned to the bag search. Walked down to where I remembered the best price for an OK choice. It was difficult to choose between green tones or purple. Each time I picked up the green one, the young merchant kept saying, "this is your color." And of course I was so impressed at his insight that I bought it. Shopping done.

I decided to walk across the street and follow the river path a little further. I came upon some shops I hadn't seen before and a bistro that advertised jazz every night and then more park and garden. Then I began hearing student violins playing. I walked up to a small, round plaza and a round building out of which several young girls walked with their familiar violin cases. I dared to go close and peek into the room. it was filled with a congregation of young players. Almost as soon as I stepped inside they began playing in unison. A recognizable spanish tune. At about middle school—freshman level, but beautiful to my ears. I walked out almost in tears it was such a lovely and encouraging scene.

Had a great walk back and indulged in a late dinner, complete with more ethnic entertainment. Three more states or areas represented, Tabasco being the last. I could get used to being so entertained each evening. Right now, as I said, I'm sitting in the bar area of this palapa and watching the stage from the other side from my usual. Getting a full on view of two twin latin beauties doing their vocal best. Ah, the beauties have left the stage for another break and a man is walking from table to table doing magic tricks with a heavy French accent. Don't know if it's an act or just a patron having fun, but everyone is enjoying his antics.

Mike, thanks for checking in. Tried to respond but somehow the browser couldn't quite find its way to you so I gave up. Hope you're all over those European bugs and that the water system is looking up. Much love to all.