We Did Cancun; Sorry You Missed It

I was on the front porch when you drove by and I waved, glad spring is upon us, but we must keep reminding ourselves because this isn’t reported by the national news media who also never points out 7,000-10,000 steps a day is good for you and that you should never staple anything to your forehead. They assume you know this.

Newspapers never point out that Mexico is to the south of us, and though spring has arrived, earlier cold temperatures reminded us that late March was slow to get the news. Luckily Her Majesty, me, and some friends had booked a flight south for several recreational days in Cancun, at a 100-acre tropical resort in the middle of a jungle by the ocean.

The first morning featured a beautiful sunrise that caused me to step outside to enjoy the flowery smells of the jungle only a stone’s throw away from our third story room. I opened the outside door facing the jungle and was about to break into song, maybe go with “What a Wonderful World”, when I was confronted by a 30-pound jungle raccoon sitting upright on its’ haunches, who gave me a Jack Nicholson smile straight from “The Shining” and moved to enter our room. I made a sound like when you open a rusty window, slammed the door shut and backed away, my heart pounding, my eyes big and round and thankful he wasn’t carrying an ax.

Later, with no more sightings of drop-in raccoons, we settled into a slow tropical rhythm with other people, swimming, splashing, and relaxing while tall palm trees swayed gently in the breeze. The scent of sunscreen mingled with the smells of the ocean and the sweet fragrance of tropical flowers like hibiscus and plumeria.

Under an intense blue sky, pool staff stood ready to fetch us drinks, snacks, entire meals, towels --- whatever your current whim desired. The quesadillas I had poolside were the best, ever, and so was the guacamole. Not one person mentioned possible Chinese balloon surveillance or that it might be a good week to invade Greenland, so with Her Majesty sunning by my side under a soft tropical breeze, that elusive thing called Bliss descended upon us.

My family were evangelical Free Will Baptists and believed in the imminence of the Rapture, when the Lord would return and we would rise to meet Him in the air and ascend to glory and blissful happiness. But we were simple hard working farming people with no clear idea of bliss and glory. It certainly didn’t resemble hot tobacco fields in eastern North Carolina. That much we knew.

Therefore, bliss is a simple matter for a farm boy from the northern hemisphere. You go south to a place where you can eat lunch outdoors during March and that does it. Bliss achieved.

To experience these simple pleasures among iconic palm trees is paradise as this drives other worries from your mind --- the current location of the US Seventh fleet, the cost of fuel for F-35 fighter jets, and when a room should go with pastel colors --- as you sit by the pool and order a large plate of cooked bacon and enjoy the experience.

It’s a bit of a shock to find unexpected bliss in these dreadful times, the dark news of war, the prevalence of terrorism, the trendy viruses brought to our attention by pharmaceutical companies, but it’s okay. We Americans still have spacious skies, majestic mountains, alabaster cities, and fruited plains. Our water is safe to drink, it’s legal to complain, and unlike much of the world, we’re free to travel with way too much luggage along with wonderful dear friends as companions. Life is good.

Next year if you eat lunch by a pool in Mexico during March, enjoy your stay, but don’t bother telling people about it. I just did it for you.