It looks like Mexico’s Carlos Slim (the world’s richest person worth $60 billion) is doing a bit of shopping in New York City!

He has just bought a Fifth Avenue townhouse for $44 million at 1009 Fifth Avenue with the sale closing on July 21 2010. The townhouse is located at East 82nd Street across from the Metropolitan Museum of Art and apparently is the only private mansion left on Fifth Avenue.

Although only 27 feet wide the townhouse boasts 20,000 square feet of space and stands six stories tall.
The house previously belonged to the family of Doris Duke, and has been known as the Duke-Semans mansion, was owned by descendants of the original owner, tobacco magnate Benjamin N. Duke, until 2006.

The mansion was sold at that time for $40 million – then a record sale in the city – to Tamir Sapir, a former cabdriver who made a fortune in Russian oil and is now a real-estate investor and developer.

In June of this year, Slim bought another New York City property, paying $140 million for an 11-story office building at 417 Fifth Avenue. Recently, Slim also became a major investor in the New York Times.

So much for New York. Now what is Carlos Slim up to in Mexico? His company, Grupo Frisco, is digging for gold in Mexico, taking advantage of gold prices that touched a record last month while awaiting a broader economic rebound. Slim, whose fortune is mainly in Mexico’s telephone company, has been in the mining business for more than two decades.

Meanwhile, here in Mexicali, the city is getting spruced up with upscale restaurants, serving great meals of steak, and pasta. One, La Piazza, has a chef who worked in Portofino, Italy.

In the last two years, we have noticed new buildings and restaurants in Mexicali. Who knows if any of them belong to Carlos Slim? In any event, the residents are pleased as they too, get to enjoy the gourmet delights that Mexicali has to off

“Summertime, and the livin’ is easy, fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high,” as the song goes.  It is summertime in Mexicali, and it is hot with temperatures from 105F to 112F-maybe even higher.

Our neighbor has taken his entire family, three kids, grandma and grandpa to the cool city of Rosarito Beach, Baja California, on the Pacific coast.  It is the Mexicali tradition, that families visit Rosarito Beach and Ensenada, during the hot summer months. The weather in Rosarito Beach is wonderful, like San Diego or Los Angeles. The good life!

Our neighbor’s maid is taking care of his home.

We have chosen our version of a summer holiday.  That is to tough it out and enjoy what Mexico has to offer in the way of beer, or cerveza in Spanish—but we do plan a trip to Ensenada (more about in my next post).

The Fiesta Room was presenting Beer Tasting Nite, La noche de Cerveza, and all three of us, me, Jim, and Matthew decided to join in the fun. We were off to sampling the finest beers that Mexico has to offer.

When one thinks of Mexican beer, the first name that comes to one’s mind is Corona. However, in Mexico, Tecate is the most popular brand—but maybe not the best.

The majority of Mexican beers are produced by the two big breweries:

1. FEMSA (which produces Tecate, Sol, Dos Equis, Carta Blanca, Superior, Indio, Bohemia and Noche Buena) and
2. Grupo Modelo (producing Corona, Corona Light, Negra Modelo, Modelo Especial, Modelo Light, and Pacifico).  Negra Modelo-and what makes Negra Modelo different from other Mexican beers?  In Mexico, this beer is called “La Crema de la Cerveza” (the elite of beers). It’s a dark, Munich-style beer.

And then there is the very special beer called Noche Buena. This beer is only released at the end of the year for the Mexican celebration of “La Noche Buena” or “Christmas Eve.” Noche Buena has a dark brown color with a small white foamy head, a slightly malty aroma, and rich caramel and toast flavors. It’s normally sold as a 12-pack, and costing around $8.00—a bargain!

The taste of these dark beers is simply delicious!  You can buy Bohemia, Indio and Negra Modelo, at Wal-Mart here in Mexicali, along with Tecate, Corona, and Pacifico.

Mexicali’s well-known beer is Cucapá. The brewer, Cerveceria de Baja California, was set up in 2002, and is located in the Mexicali, and is one of a handful of Mexican microbrews. They brew Mexicali’s very own Cucapá Beer. This name comes from one of the five Indian tribes that live in the Mexicali Valley.

Cucapá comes in various flavors:

There is Cucapá Clasica , blonde ale, taste of malt and sweet citrus;
Cucapá Obscura an American brown ale with a taste of sweet toffee, roasted nuts and brown sugar aromas;
Cucapá Chupacabras, a pale copper-colored ale with rich creamy dark caramel, dark chocolate and roasted nuts, and citrus marmalade;
Cucapá Triguen’a, a wheat ale with a clear golden color;
Cucapá Honey, an amber colored ale, with rich aromas of caramel, roasted grains, and citrusy aromas;
Cucapá Barleywine, which has a dark reddish mahogany color, with aromas of roasted malt and dark caramel.
Cucapá beer brewers even make seasonal beers such as Cucapá Jefe, which is an Hefeweizen (a wheat beer), made with wheat and barely malt and with a bright peach color.

Here’s the Cucapá website -  www.cucapa.com.

While taking sips of the various brands of beer, I found that I loved the tastes of Cucapá Classic, Negra Modelo, Bohemia  and Noche Buena. All these beers are so tasty and easy to drink. All very smooth and they quench your thirst immediately.

If you like beers with a bit of a bite, try Pacifico. It’s from the Mexican state of Sinaloa.

It was a wonderful evening for the three of us—especially Matthew.

We got to try the beer along with Enchiladas Chipotle—enchiladas stuffed with chicken, cooked with garlic, onions, sharp cheddar cheese, smothered on top with cheese, onions and fresh out of the oven.

We drove home, very carefully to our air-conditioned casa. It wasn’t until Jim and I were inside that we noticed that Matthew was missing—he was sound asleep in the truck.

The good life!

We are Americans and have been living in the border town of Mexicali, the capital of Baja California since 2008. As far as we are concerned, Mexicali is a very peaceful city.

We chose Mexicali because it is next door to the US town of Calexico. It works for us, as we cross the border sometimes twice a month, to check our mail, do our shopping and eat at Denny’s, Golden Corral Restaurant, or Sizzler’s in El Centro.  There is also Imperial Valley Mall just outside of El Centro. There, we get food for our pets and other items. There are all the big box stores in this mall.

Mexicali has a population of over one million. It is a wide-spread city with low-rise buildings. In our earlier postings, we have driven to San Felipe, down to the wine valley, where you can find Mexico’s best wines! We have eaten at a great seafood restaurant in Ensenada, and driven up to Tecate as well, and made more than one trip to Los Algodones.

Mexicali is what we call the city of Healthcare Nirvana! I had my successful Tarlov cyst operation here in Mexicali for a fraction of the price that the US healthcare would charge me. Very soon, Mexicali will be in the process of building a major medical center as the plans are already drawn up

When we decided to live in Mexicali, we selected a great area, just 165 feet from the US border. It’s great for us!

Even though we are safe and secure in Mexicali, the US State Department has listed several Mexican cities not to visit.

These are Ciudad Juarez which is the border town to El Paso, Texas, Tijuana, the border town to San Diego, Nogales, the border town to Nogales, Arizona, Nuevo Laredo, near the city of Laredo Texas.

You do not want to visit the border town of Ciudad Juarez, across the border from El Paso, Texas.

At the moment, drug cartels are fighting for this route of entry into Texas. Jim and I have always said, so long as America has a demand for drugs, Mexican drug cartels are there to supply them—it’s a multibillion dollar business-on both sides of the border.

If you are not into the drug business, then you are fine.

There are over 1.2 million American and Canadian citizens living peaceful lives in Mexico.

Good places to visit are Cancun, the Riviera Maya, Cozumel, Mérida and the Mayan ruins in Yucatan, San Miguel de Allende (which is crawling with Americans) and the colonial cities of Guanajuato, Queretaro, Zacatecas.

Guadalajara is a very large city and growing larger by the minute. Stick to the central city tourist areas and the leafy upscale neighborhoods like the Zona Rosa.

A popular side-trip is past fields of blue agave to the town of Tequila, where tequila distilleries can be visited and the wares sampled from such famous brands as Cuervo and Herradura.

The Oaxaca coast is great, including beautiful, well-developed Huatulco, and the little surfing mecca of Puerto Escondido (a great place).

Cabo San Lucas, San Jose del Cabo and the resorts that stretch between them are like a backyard for residents of the southwestern U.S. Thousands of Americans live there.

Mexico City, which is reputed to be dangerous, has a homicide rate of only nine for every 100,000 people, while Washington D.C. had a rate of more than 30 per 100,000-over three times higher.

Still, visitors to Mexico City should exercise the same precautions taken in any of the world’s big cities; sticking to busy, central areas and remaining aware of one’s surroundings. It’s very important to take only radio-issued taxis or taxis from official stands, and never the “libre” (independent) or Volkswagen cabs.

Don’t walk at night except short distances on busy streets. Mexico City is full of museums, art galleries and super restaurants. Most people include a visit nearby to the ruins of Teotihuacan, which are perfectly safe, with a visitor center and organized guides.

But back to Mexicali where we have never seen or experienced any violence in two and a half years of living here.

As far as we are concerned, we are very happy to live in Mexicali on our social security. We have discovered great restaurants to eat, and luckier—Mexican friends in Mexicali!

Saturday evening, March 13, 2010, Jim was rubbing his right eye furiously. “Darn it, my eye is itchy!” he said.

Jim went to look in the bathroom mirror, and called me to have a look at his already reddened right eye.

“I think I rubbed my eye, to much, Maryann! Maybe I rubbed something right out of my eyeball.” said a worried Jim.

Jim’s eye was getting angrier and redder while I looked at it under our ceiling fan light.

“Jim, we should go now to the emergency at the Almater Hospital.” I said.

We got into our truck, and in no time were parking it in the car park of the Almater Hospital here in Mexicali.

We entered the emergency section of the hospital, only to be told that there was no doctor on call.  It was Saturday night.

Well, I don’t understand why emergencies have to happen on weekends or holidays for us, but it does.

“I have our passports in my handbag, and we are going to cross the border to go to the El Centro Hospital in the U.S. Jim,” I told him calmly.

“Shall I drive or do you want to with your one red swollen eye Jim?” I asked.

“I’m drivin’, and I can see Maryann? What do you think I am one of them Cyclops guys like in the movies?  Geez, I can see!” said  Jim.

“Okie Dokie!” I said.

It took us a quick one hour to cross the border on a late Saturday night, and Jim drove carefully to the El Centro Hospital. I must say the roads are not that well lit, but we got there in one piece.

After parking the truck, we walked quickly to the Emergency Room of the hospital.  The waiting room was empty! Great!

Jim went up to the girl behind the window counter and told her that he needed to see a doctor for his swollen eye.

“I have Medicare” said Jim giving his Medicare card to the girl.

The girl said we could enter the door to the next room, where the nurse told Jim to sit down, asking him what had happened, all the while taking notes.

A doctor was on duty, and a nurse signaled Jim to a room with a bed. “Oh, Mr. Dogooder, you’ll be just fine now,” said the nurse, “doctor will be right with you—don’t you worry about a thing now.”

“Hey, these folks are real nice,” said Jim calming down.

Two other nurses came into the room, “Mr. Dogooder, it’s your eye?” asked one of the nurses, “that’s the only problem—anything else?”

“Nope that’s it,” said Jim who was now lying down on the bed, while I sat on the chair by the side of the door.

A doctor came into the room and greeted Jim, “Well, hello there! You are Mr. Jim Dogooder? Eye itching correct? And you live in Mexicali.”

“Yes, there were no doctors at the main hospital in Mexicali so we came here. I’m on Medicare Doc” said Jim.

“Yes, good,” said the kind doctor, “Now let’s just take a look at that eye.”

“Yup, it’s looking red and angry. Tell you what we are going to do.  I am going to put some eye drops into your eye.  With these drops, we can look and see if there is any damage done to the cornea. Ok?” said the kind doctor, cheerfully.

“Nurse, the drops please,” said the doctor. Then, turning to Jim, “You’ll be just fine; there’s no pain whatsoever, and we will know what to give you for that little nasty redness. OK?” smiled the doctor.

After the eye drops, and looking at Jim’s eye with a special magnifying glass, the cheerful doctor called me over and said, “See, all those straight lines, scratches, on his eyeball?”

“Yes, I can see them,” I said, “that’s where Jim was rubbing his eye.

The doctor pushed back in his chair and said, “Only scratches, he’s fine—no eye damage at all!  I am going put some antibiotic eye ointment in Jim’s eye—Garamycin.”

The nurse handed the doctor a small tube, and the doctor moved forward and squeezed a bit of ointment into Jim’s eye, and handed the tube back to the nurse.

The doctor then said, “I am going to give you two Vicodin tablets, and a prescription for more.”

Jim sat up. The doctor continued, “Now, I would watch that eye Jim. Here’s a list of ophthalmologists if you have any more problems, just make an appointment with one of them. You’re good to go!”

As Jim stood up, the nurse handed him a small plastic container, “Here’s your Vicodin and a prescription for more.”

“Thank you Ma’am,” said Jim.

The nurse replied, “Now, that wasn’t so bad was it? You will be just fine. Let me put a patch on that eye.”

“A patch on my eye? I won’t be able to drive back to Mexicali!” said a worried Jim.”

Mrs. Dogooder, you can drive?” asked the smiling nurse.

“Yes no problem” I said.

The nurse smiled, “Men, they can be such babies—now when you feel pain, Mr. Dogooder, just take one Vicodin and you’ll be just fine! Your wife will be in charge for now.”

The doctor waived a cheery goodbye and left saying, “Yes, the nurse is going to put a patch on that eye, so let the little lady do the driving tonight.”

Jim and I left the El Centro Hospital, happy that Jim’s eye was fine, even though he felt out of place in the passenger seat.

On our way back home to Mexicali, we stopped by a Denny’s near the Wal-Mart in Calexico, where Jim and I ordered grand slam breakfasts, pancakes, and chocolate milkshakes.

“When we got back home, Jim said, “Well, MaryAnn, that was great! Everyone was so nice and all.”

“Well, all’s well that ends well,” I said.

And Medicare will take care of it!” smiled a contented Jim, removing his eye-patch.

A month later a bill arrived from the El Centro Hospital. It was for $911.45.

We were stunned – what about Medicare?

For that little bit of ointment the doctor squeezed into Jim’s eye, the charge was $87.46—and the doctor kept the tube! The charge for the eye drops the doctor put in Jim’s eye was $63.44! The use of the emergency room area cost $738.29. With some other incidentals and accidentals, it all added up to $911.45.

We had been paying $96 a month for Medicare Part B for over ten years – they take it directly out of your Social Security check.

During that time Jim went to the doctors twice at most. Ten years at $96 a month equals $11,520, taken out of our Social Security. I think very few folks on Social Security can afford that.

Jim showed Matthew and me the bill, while he looked for his recliner to sit down. “My head’s spinning!!! How can it be $911.45 for what they did?” Jim asked. “I have Medicare!”

The next morning, Jim telephoned Medicare. The conversation did not last long. The Medicare lady explained that if you don’t have Medicare Part B—you’ve got virtually nothing, and that the $911.45 charge was correct and that Medicare would pay nothing.

“But your website clearly states that Medicare Part A gives you coverage for hospital both inpatient and outpatient.”

The Medicare lady said she was sorry, but the website was misleading.

She went on to say that, without Medicare Part B, even in a hospital, the doctor’s charges are not covered.

This means that if you don’t have Part B, and you are rushed to the hospital, and a doctor has to operate, you could be faced with a huge doctor bill.

Looking at Jim’s $911.45 hospital bill, it seems that Medicare Part A pays nothing, which is more or less what the Medicare lady told Jim.

All those years of Medicare deductions from Jim’s salary—all for nothing. Jim couldn’t even get Part B if he wanted to, as the door for that closed last March.

Just last week another medical bill arrived!

It was for $246.00 and was from some outfit called the Alpine Emergency Medical Group in Westminster, CA. We figure that this must be the bill for the cheery El Centro doctor bringing the total to $1,157.49. This is price gouging by the health care industry. No wonder medical costs in America is double what they are in any other country.

The Medicare website stated that Part A paid for Inpatient AND Outpatient care.

Since Jim complained—Medicare has changed its website.

Originally the Medicare website used to be red and said that Part A provided inpatient AND outpatient hospital coverage.

Now the Medicare website is green and blue and  has eliminated the outpatient coverage. What a bunch of crooks!

If you have only Medicare Part A, you have NO insurance at all.

What a scam!

That combined with the fact that Jim’s job went to some guy in China makes my blood boil!

No sooner did I finish my last blog on my Tarlov cyst recovery than we got hit with another big earthquake – 5.7 on the Richter scale!The whole house was shaking. Jim made me stand in the doorway, while he held up the rack that contains the computer equipment

Matthew came running, screaming into the computer room and dived under the table.

This was a long one—first violent shaking, and then the usual swaying back and forth of the whole house and the earth beneath it.

The USGS gave out the terse message—Monday, June 14, 2010 09:26:58 PM at epicenter. Depth: 6.90 km (4.29 mi)—43 km (27 miles) W (277°) from Mexicali, Baja California, Mexico.

“Matthew,” said Jim, “it’s OK—you can come on out.”

Matthew crawled out from under the table, and, without saying a word, ran to his bedroom.

I’ve gotta tell you, we feel earthquakes every day, and more than once per day. Sometimes, it’s just a slight moving of our place back and forth, up to a foot each way. This one, however, was a big one. Orginally, it was reported as a 5.9, but was quickly downgraded to a 5.7. They always downgrade these earthquakes. Maybe it’s like the cable news, they do it just to keep everybody happy, or at least not so scared.

We went two years here with no earthquakes at all. One of our Mexican friends who has been here since 1945 says he has never felt anything like it.

After studying the earthquake patterns, Jim has given up his theory that a Baby Moon is going to split out of the earth carrying me, him, and Matthew into outer space. Jim is now convinced that Baja California is splitting off from the mainland, and that the earth will sink and that the area about 20 miles west of us will fill up with water.

Matthew came back to the computer room, as we were discussing Jim’s latest theory.

Matthew liked the idea, and said, “Will there be a beach that we can go to, Jim?”

“If we live long enough,” replied Jim.

“If we live through this at all!” I added.

Just a quick update on my tarlov cyst recovery.

When I was able to sit after my Tarlov cyst operation, I always had a small cushion on my lower back. I would do the same in the car, or when watching TV.

Only a week ago, I felt my spinal cord nerve was hurting me. Was I going backwards?

So, to fix myself up, I brought out my well-used tube of Capzasin pain relief crème—real stingy stuff which I used all the time, when I still had my Tarlov cysts. I applied it down my spine. Oh dear, it really burnt!  I had no idea that Capzasin ointment was so strong? I felt pain in my spinal cord nerve.

I freaked and called out to Jim, “Jim, what’s wrong? Why is it so tender around my spinal chord?—help!”

I lay flat on the bed, chest down, while Jim prodded my spine.

“Here? Is this where the pain is?” asked Jim.

“Yes . . . right there!” I said.

“I see some ointment, Maryann . . . what in tarnation are you doing with your back?” said Jim

“I had some discomfort on my spine, so I rubbed some Capzasin pain reliever on it, and now it’s worse! What’s happening?”

“Stop with the Capzasin pain thing, that’s real strong stuff,” said Jim.

“Are you still using the little pillow for your back?” he asked.

“Well, yes.”

“Well, stop, using that pillow; I think it’s putting pressure on the nerves just where they come out of the spinal chord,” said Jim calmly.

I stopped using my trusty little back pillow, and within two days, I began to feel great!

“Jim, I was using my little pillow when I was sitting up to prop up my lower back,” I said, “and now that I’ve stopped using it, I feel fantastic—no nerve pain!”

“Looks like the pillow was pushing against the S1 nerve right where it comes out of the spinal chord, and now that you are getting better-you don’t need that pillow no more!” Jim said

Well, now, no more little pillows to prop up my lower back.  The nerve pain is gone and I am doing fine. How about that?

Nine months post-op, and things begin to change.  Day by day, I can feel the tender area around my incision getting smaller, as I get better and better.

I am walking pain-free, and my medications are Lyrica and Soma.

My back, which needed propping up, now no longer requires it.

For showers, I have my chair to sit on. I use liquid soap and a small towel and am careful, real careful, not to slip.

Who’s a better doctor than my Jim?

My last Tarlov cyst recovery post was made on February 14, 2010. I am now nine months into recovery.

So here’s what’s happening. I can walk PAINFREE, but I can’t run down the street.

I walked as fast as I could when Jim called me out of our bedroom when the 7.2 earthquake hit Mexicali. I reckon for living in an earthquake zone, I am doing pretty well.

I am now writing this, sitting in an office chair, no longer having to limit myself to my reclining armchair. There is no longer any pain in my tailbone area now – no more using the seat cushion!

Jim and I take turns preparing meals. Before it was only Jim.  Matthew looked after our pets.

I used to have a bar stool to sit on while stirring the pot over the stove. No need for that anymore! Now, I can stand and prepare meals, just like I used to.

What I can’t do, are work-outs or exercises. So I don’t really work up a sweat the way I like to.

But we’ll will wait and see. I can even fix up my hair, and put on my make-up.

(At Sinapsis Cafe, the girls were really sweet, and loved my eye-make up!  Most Mexican women wear makeup all the time, and they are all just beautiful. I guess that’s the Latin way.)

I am still watching my recovery from my Tarlov cyst surgery very closely. I can sit anywhere now. I even rolled over in our bed to give Jim a hug about a month ago, but that showed me that I was still in recovery.

I could feel the healing area around the operation site getting smaller, like a shrinking circle! As each month goes by, the circle gets smaller.

After the operation Dr. Carlos Maya gave me a prescription for three antibiotic shots.

Several months later, the area around and under the incision still didn’t feel right.

I told Jim who said, “‘MaryAnn, you probably have a staph infection?”

“How do you know about staph infections?” I asked.

“Must’a read it somewheres,” said Jim. “Look MaryAnn, staph infections are all around, and you still have that inflamed nerve,” Jim said firmly.

He continued, “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I have the name of an antibiotic; it’s real strong, so let’s giddyup down to Mas Barata, and get it.”

“OK. Is it pills I should be taking?”

“Nope, shots” said Jim.

We took off to La Farmacia Mas Barata immediately. I sat in the truck, while Jim, who speaks Spanish, went in and talked to a smart looking lady behind the counter. They checked over a medical book, and, in no time, Jim came out with a bagful of stuff and said, “Right, here’s what we need to clear up any darn staph infection, Maryann. They call it Trixona, here in Mexico.”

“Just in case Hon; we wanna make sure that every base is covered,” said Jim as we headed to the Sanatorio Santa Monica, a small hospital in our neighborhood.

There, the nurse will give you a shot for only 30 pesos ($2.50).

In Mexicali, an ampule for a one gram shot of Trixona (ceftriaxone), the antibiotic Jim decided on, costs 120 pesos ($9.60).

For the first seven days, Jim decided on one gram each day. For the second week, it was two grams, each day.

This was a big shot and was given with a large syringe. For the 14 day treatment, I changed sides on my buttocks for each jab.

The cost of the entire treatment came to a total of $201.60 for the antibiotics. Combined with $35 for the hospital shots brought the total to $236.60. And no doctor fees!

In the US, such a treatment for a staph infection would cost a fortune!

From the first shot, I could feel something going on; some of the pain and inflammation from the incision site was going away. It just got better with each shot, and by the end of Jim’s treatment, I felt a huge improvement.

“Hon, as I suspected, you probably had a staph infection,” said Jim.

“Jim, I think you were right – I feel so much better now,” I said. “How did you figure that out, and how did you decide on ceftriaxone?” I asked.

“Twarant nothin, just a little research with Dr. Internet,” answered Jim. “Look,” he continued, “all a doctor can do is either slice you up with an operation or give you a prescription – in Mexico, you can do your own prescriptions – no doctor needed.”

My Jim can be so brilliant!

I put myself back on Lyrica and Soma.

My decision. I don’t need a doctor or his prescription to tell me what to do, at this point in the game.

Lyrica helps with the nerve recovery and the Soma helps to relax the muscles.

Of course I pace myself. When I overdo errands, I do get very tired and find I have to rest up for one full day.

It takes us one and half hours to cross over to the US town of Calexico because of the line going through US Customs and Border Patrol.

In Calexico, we usually check our mail, and then go off to Denny’s for a great breakfast. Jim and Matthew always order the Grand Slam breakfast, and I make it a point to eat more proteins, and less carbs. So I order a double bacon and cheese burger, with french fries a dill pickle, followed by a large chocolate milkshake! A treat for me!

The less weight I carry, the less pressure on my spine. I had really taken my spine for granted during the last 40 years of my life, lifting, running, falling down. At one point, I started to wonder what might have caused my Tarlov cyst. I recalled that some years ago, I had knocked the back of my head really hard. At the time, I thought to myself, “Oops, I hope I’m OK!”‘ Well, I think that may have been part of the cause of my getting two Tarlov cysts.

I do get into a funk, of course!  Many times, when I wake up, I think I can just run up to the bathroom, run out and do errands so quickly, and now, after the Tarlov cyst surgery, I can’t do that.  That gets me very down. I can’t hike, play tennis or tango right now. I hope I can get to the point where I can move fast enough to play some tennis with Jim.

That’s the frustrating issue I face everyday as a Tarlov cyst survivor. However, I am pleased with my 9 month recovery, and Jim says he can see almost daily improvements in the way I walk.

When we last went to Denny’s, Jim and Matthew were very surprised to see me slide out of the truck and walk, with no signs of a limp. “You’re walkin like normal, MaryAnn! I’m impressed!” said Jim. So there is good news for all Tarlovians who are angry and frustrated.

Give the healing time! Be patient (and watch out for post-op infections).

Yes, thank the Lord, I am doing very well – no pain medications needed.  I will continue to keep all my Internet friends posted on my recovery.

Jesse called us on the phone a couple of days ago and said they were concerned about us, and also had BIG NEWS to tell us. Jesse also said he and his family had decided to visit us here in Mexicali for Memorial Day.

Saturday morning, Jesse and family pulled up in front of our casa in their SUV, dragging a trailer with all their belongings.

Maude poured herself out of the front seat holding a big box of wine, and our two grandsons, Wilbur and Orville, now tall big strapping young teens, got out to greet us.

“Well, long time no see!” said Jim.

“Hya Dad, Mom!” said Jesse, “it’s great to see you!”

Maude then gave Jim and me hugs, and handing us the box of wine said, “Here’s a box of wine, guys – its Gambino’s Red Cinnamon Orange Wine – it’s a California wine.”

“Hey, that wine really sounds good,” said Jim, “C’mon in, you guys must be tired.”

Going inside, Wilbur said, “Hi Grandpa, Grandma, and Uncle Matthew. Dad said we’re big enough to join the football team soon! Ain’t that great news!”

“Yeah,” joined in Orville.

“Why, yes it is,” I said.

Everyone just crashed down on our living room sofa as I stepped into the kitchen and got some snacks – Hostess Twinkies, M&Ms, Nachos, Oreo Cookies, Planters Peanuts and Fritos Mini Bean Dip, and salt and vinegar pork rinds.

“Geez,” said Orville digging in, “all our favorite stuff.”

“Yeah,” I said, “and I got pork roast and baked potatoes in the oven.”

“Gonna boil some corn?” asked Wilbur.

“Whadaya think’s in that big pot on the stove,” said Jim.

“What’s with the trailer and stuff on top of your car?” I asked.

“Well, Mom, that’s the big news! We’re movin’ to Truth or Consequences,” said Jessie.

“Truth or Consequences?” asked Jim.

“Yeah, Dad, Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, a small place just 120 miles from the Mexican border,” answered Jesse.

“Well, you could do that close to us in California, somewheres like Calexico,” I said.

“Can’t afford to stay in California! The place is getting way too expensive,” said Jesse, wiping his forehead. The sweat was just running down his shirt.

“Thought we would crash here over Memorial Day, if that’s OK with you guys,” said Jesse.

“Sure! we’ve got plenty of room here!” said Jim

Maude was quiet as usual – she’s real nice like an old-style woman. Matthew was keeping quiet too, except for the cracking sound of the pig rind he was stuffing into his face.

“Looks like you guys are having it real good here in Mexicali,” said Jesse.

“Yes we are, the place is great for us, and we’ve made some real nice friends here – this is our home now,” I said.

Jim picked up the box of wine, “Mind if I try some, Jesse?”

“Dad, we brought it for you guys,” answered Jesse.

Jim got a glass from the kitchen and returned to the big living room sofa. He picked up the box and read the label.
“Hey, this here Gambino’s Red Cinnamon Orange Wine is a pretty classy wine – says ‘varietal’ on the box, and that means it’s a top wine – varietal is some kinda certificate thing,” said Jim pouring a glass.

“Gramps, you sure know a lot about wine and stuff,” said Orville.

“Yeah,” added Wilbur.

Jim took a deep drink and started coughing, “CHRIST that stuff is strong!”

“Glad you like it, Dad,” said Jesse.

“OK,” said Jim gathering himself, “no just how are you guys going to support yourselves in Truth and Consequences, New Mexico.”

“It’s Truth or Consequences, Jim,” I said, “named for that radio guy, I think.”

“OK, whatever,” said Jim, finishing his glass of Gambino’s and pouring another.

“Yes, that radio fellow was John Edwards,” I said.

“No, John Edwards was the guy with the hair – that  politician guy who was sleeping around – it was Ralph Edwards,” said Jim.

“The porn guy,” giggled Orville.

“I don’t feel well,” interrupted Matthew, his mouth still full of pork rind.

“Well you just been stuffin your face with that fried pork fat – no wonder,” I said.

Matthew got up and headed for the bathroom.

“Thazz your Unc…Unca’ Matthew for you,” said Jim, and we all had a good laugh.

“You OK, Jim?” I asked.

“I’m OK,” answered Jim, who was slurring his words.

“Yeah, I can tell,” I said.

Turning to Jesse, I asked, “So what are you guys gonna do in Truth or Consequences to make a living.”

“It’s a small place, Mom, only about 7,000 people, but it has a couple of restaurants where Maude could work, and the high school has a football team for Orville and Wilbur. Maybe I could do some coaching work at the same high school.”

“Well, maybe with some luck,” I said.

“Think so, Dad?” asked Jesse.

Jim was asleep and snoring on the sofa.

Let’s hope he wakes up in time for Memorial Day,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Orville and Wilbur, together.

More than 6000 earthquakes hit Mexicali in April.

This includes 702 earthquakes of three to four degrees on the Richter scale, and 72 of between four and five, and 9 large earthquakes between five and six on the Richter scale.

This is more than a month after the 7.2 earthquake killed at least four people, injured 223, and damaged at least 2,500 local homes.

Four new earthquakes, one of which reached 4.6 degrees on the Richter scale, centered south of Mexicali hit us early this morning..

People living to the south of Mexicali on the road to San Felipe are afraid that their damaged houses could collapse completely. Many of them are sleeping in their cars and tents. More than 25,000 people are now living in shelters.  You won’t read that in the U.S. news.

Jim wanted to drive down to the earthquake area to take a look, but Matthew and I said “No!”  Jim should have better sense with all his talk about the birth of a “Baby Moon,” and our being blasted out into space.

Meanwhile it is the Cinco de Mayo (Spanish for “fifth of May”). Most Americans think this is Mexico’s Independence Day, but it isn’t. It celebrates the underdog Mexican army’s victory over the French at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862.

The Cinco de Mayo is no big deal in Mexico, but, somehow, it is in the U.S.

So what did we do for the Cinco de Mayo?

Matthew, Jim, and I sat around the house just waiting for the next earthquake.

This is the true story of two young men in their mid-twenties, who decided to cross into the border town of Calexico, from Mexicali – it happened only a couple of days ago.

We’ll just call the young men Alfonso and Roberto (Bob for short). Like a lot of the young people in Mexicali, both Alfonso and Bob speak English very well.

Alfonso wanted to cross the border to buy a pair of sneakers, and go to IN-N-OUT Burger in El Centro, only about 12 miles across the border from Mexicali.

Bob said, “Sure! That’s a great idea. We’ll take your car as it’s all gassed up and I’ll drive.”

“No problem dude!” said Alfonso.

Knowing Alfonso was big on smoking marijuana or “weed” as they like to call it, Bob said, “Make sure you don’t bring any weed crossing the border. OK?”

“Hey, you think I don’t know? Sure, no weed!” sighed Alfonso.

The two young men got into Alfonso’s car and headed out for the border crossing into Calexico in the mid-afternoon. They waited in line for an hour and a half before coming close to the Border Patrol check point. That day, the line of vehicles crossing into Calexico was long and congested.

The young men waited patiently. Alfonso seemed agitated, and from his jean’s pocket, he removed a marijuana pipe wrapped in a plastic bag.

“What are you doing?” yelled Bob, “I thought you told me you were not gonna bring weed. man? You are gonna get all of us into trouble!”

“Hey, just relax, it’s just a tiny bit of weed stuffed into my pipe, and it’s wrapped in plastic, Dude. I’m not bringing in tons of marijuana. We’re just gonna sit and wait in line. Chill Dude. It’s just the Border Patrol guys, they can’t find it” said Alfonso with a confident look.

“Here, I’m gonna put the pipe with the weed into my side pocket, deep in!” said Alfonso.

As their car crawled up to the US check point, a Border Patrol agent approached their car – he was walking with his sniffer dog, checking each vehicle.

“Oh shit! There’s the dog, we’re in trouble,” called out Bob, “See I told you not to bring weed in!”

As Bob was scolding his friend, the sniffer dog and his handler approached their car. “Light up a cigarette dude!” cried Alfonso.

“Wha? No way man, I just smoke a cigarette now? That’s too obvious!” said Bob angrily.

The sniffer dog and the Border Patrol agent passed their car and walked right by.

Bob and Alfonso heaved a sigh of relief. The dog had not smelled anything. Alfonso looked at Bob and smiled – a smile which Bob did not return.

All of a sudden, in the rear-view mirror, Bob saw the sniffer dog stop right in its tracks! The dog pulled on the leash, and started to lead the Border Patrol agent back to their car!

The two men sat frozen in their car – Bob at the wheel, and Alfonso in the passenger’s seat.

The dog stood up putting its paws right on the closed window next to Alfonso. The Border Patrol agent motioned to Alfonso to open the door.

Alfonso complied.

Immediately, the dog  jumped into the car, on top of Alfonso and put its snout right on Alfonso’s pocket – exactly where the plastic-enclosed pipe was.

Alfonso sat, not moving or blinking, terrified at what the sniffer dog could possibly do.

“Both of you get out of the car, now!” yelled the Border Patrol agent.

Alfonso and Bob got out quickly.

“Place your hands on top of the car, and spread your legs, now!” yelled the Border Patrol agent. “And don’t move!”

The sniffer dog was all excited and started sniffing the car, the back seat, the front seat excitedly. It looked happy, as the agent gave it a treat.

“You get your keys and pop the hood and the trunk and then get back into position, with you hands on the vehicle” said the agent. Three other burly Border Patrol agents arrived at the car as backup.

The other vehicles hummed silently and the people watched with anticipation.

The sniffer dog returned to Alfonso, and jumped excitedly and barked.

“Remove all the stuff from your jeans!” yelled the Border Patrol Agent to the two terrified young men.

Alfonso sheepishly dug out his pipe which was stuffed with weed and wrapped in plastic, and placed it on top of the car, with his wallet.

Now, the car was surrounded by four Border Patrol agents. The people waiting in their cars must have feared that a shoot-out was about to happen. Fortunately, Mexicali is not like other Mexican border towns.

“Here’s the weed, stuffed inside the pipe, sir!” said the Border Patrol agent to a senior officer.

“A pipe? That’s drug paraphernalia,” said the senior officer, “Put the evidence into the trunk. You two, get back into the car, get back in line, and wait your turn at the agent post.”

Both the young men got back into their car, and waited in line.  When they reached the border check point, the agent wanted to see their papers.  Both men showed their papers, which included visas to enter the U.S.

The agent checked over the documents and said, “OK, proceed to the secondary inspection area!”

At the border crossings there is a dreaded Secondary Inspection Area – where they go over suspected vehicles and people very carefully.

We know one woman who was hand-cuffed in the Secondary Inspection Area, with the handcuffs being attached to a hook on the wall. Her feet barely touched the ground. She was on an innocent shopping trip to Calexico, but her car had Tijuana plates, which may have been the problem.

Bob drove the car into a separate lane leading to the dreaded Secondary Inspection Area where both men got out of the car. They were immediately handcuffed by the US Border Patrol agents. All of their belongings were removed and placed in plastic bags, including their cell phones.

Handcuffed, both men were lead to separate holding cells, where they were locked up.

After waiting for a couple of hours, Bob was released from his cell. He asked whether he could call his family. There was no answer, but he was asked to sit down on a bench and fill out a form.

Bob was now feeling a bit better – until the agent cuffed his ankles to the bench.

“Officer, am I in trouble here – is this a misdemeanor or a felony?” asked Bob.

The agent responded, “You’re free to go; you were not caught with any drugs or drug paraphernalia. We checked you thoroughly. No needles no drugs. You’re free to go!”

Bob was relieved and exhilarated that he wasn’t going into any prison, but he worried about Alfonso.

“Officer, what about my friend? What will happen to him?” asked Bob.

The agent answered, “Who knows how long he’s gonna be locked up? He was found with marijuana and an unlawful pipe on his person.

“We have documented in the papers that, on American soil, the weed and pipe was found in the trunk of the car. Everything has been searched, just let his family know where he is, and he will be released soon. Lucky for you boys that the weed was a tiny amount.  If we had found more, the both of you would have been charged and the penalty for crossing the US border with weed would have been severe. Good Luck man! You’re free to go.” said the Border Patrol agent.

In the early morning, Alfonso was released. He collected all of his belongings and called Bob. “Hey, I’m out Dude. Can you come get me Bob? What did you tell my parents?”

“I told your mom that you had an argument with your girlfriend, I didn’t want to freak her out and get her upset. I’ll come get you now” said a relieved Bob.

Bob was lucky; no charges were filed against him. Alfonso was not so lucky. His visa to enter the U.S. was canceled, and he would have to go to US Consulate in Tijuana to get a new visa, which would probably be denied. No more IN-N-OUT Burger for Alfonso – at least not for a long time.

When Bob told us his story, Matthew said “Bob, I wouldn’t want to cross the border with you!”

“What do ya mean?” asked a baffled-looking Jim.

“Well, some of the smell of marijuana must be on Bob.” said Matthew.

“That’s crazy,” said Jim.

“Not so crazy,” said Bob, “They stopped one of my friends, brushed and brushed the carpet on his car until they came up with quite a bit of weed.”

“What happened?” asked Matthew.

“The guy is in prison, and he doesn’t even know how the weed got into the carpet of his car.”

“Ya just don’t mess with them Border guys. We’ve seen those there dogs MaryAnn, they are really good at smelling out the dope,” said Jim shaking his head.

“Well I’m glad nothing happened to you and your friend – it will be a learning experience for you guys,” I said.

Bob got up to leave, shook hands with Jim and gave me a hug. He turned to shake hands with Matthew.

“No way,” said Matthew backing away, “God knows what you have on your hands.”