Senior Camp

We were on our way home after a fun day in Hermosillo - ATM at bank Santander (no fees!), hair color from Sally's at Mall Galerias, expensive steak lunch at Palominos, grocery shopping at Mega and Costco - and as we neared Kino I tried not to panic over what was awaiting me back home: Neighbors.

As I sit at the computer typing this I look out the window and instead of an open space with palm trees and sparkling water beyond I see a white wall with a blue stripe down the side. The neighbors' motor home.

I wake at 6:30 to a sound I'm gotten unaccustomed to. The neighbor opening a bin in the motor home's "basement." Their lights are on, they've been up for hours. I know their habits as they surely know mine.

I'm irritated by every sound I hear coming from the space next door. What the hell is that shuffling noise? What's he doing now? Jesus, they're retired...can't they sleep in? I know it could be worse. It could be that lady who smokes who spends hours each morning coughing up her lungs. It could be that guy who called Obama the "n" word. It could be those people whose space is a pigsty. Did I mention they beat each other up? Or how about the pedophile? Or the guy who takes naked photos of young girls and putas? Or Flo with her constantly barking dogs? Did I mention they bite?

Already the senior citizens are acting like high school seniors over the issue of dogs. Get this: the park now has rules about dogs. The dogs must be on leashes. The owners must pick up dogshit. Holy crap!! Say it ain't so. The snowbirds say "the park dogs shit in the park, why can't ours?" What? Now we're in grade school?

As I said to my friends yesterday, I have two options: find a new place to live (not another RV park) or rise above it all. Until a secluded RV space lands in my lap, I guess I'll have to practice the fine art of rising above the dramas. I'll take deep calming breaths before I exit the trailer door. I'll be cheerful and say "I missed you guys" to every returning snowbird.

Oh how I long for those 112 degree humid days with electricity surges and brown-outs. How I miss the warm  Sea of Cortez water. I miss weekends packed with partying folks from Hermosillo, Ciudad Juarez, with the smells of carne asada, blaring ranchero music.

In a nutshell, I miss Mexico.