Cozumel Recap

The lovely Mrs. Gammons and I are recently returned from a ten-day vacation in a great place, where we enjoyed beautiful weather and interesting people.

We stayed at a lovely resort.  As is the case at all such places, one must beware the "special breakfast" -- a sales presentation for 30-year memberships in a vacation club, delivered by perky young sales reps who walk you around and then sit you down for the same buffet breakfast included with everyone's room. Every day, we saw another young couple suffering through their eggs and coffee while enduring the pitch.  Just say no!

We met some wonderful folks from Pittsburgh, Nova Scotia, Virginia, Texas, California, Oklahoma and Missouri.  (I've rarely met a person from western Pa. or a Canadian that I didn't like.)  Of course, we also met some heavily-tattooed skinheads from Louisiana and some blatant racists from Baltimore.  (Seriously, what kind of people travel to an all-inclusive Mexican resort and start tossing out the N-word?  WTF?  Ugly Americans.)  We focused on the good people and ignored the assholes.

Betty & Dot, with the
lovely Mrs. Gammons

Our new friends Betty and Dot were most agreeable.  Never had a bad word to say.

Here I am, relaxing poolside

Mostly, we did nothing.  Gotta stick with your strengths.  We kicked back, ate, drank, and socialized.  We thought about snorkeling, but never did it.  I read two great books.  (Watch for Buster's Book Review coming soon.)  We went into town once.  It was nice enough, an endless retail opportunity like most other centros --  "Come in, take a look."  "Good price for you!"  "99% off!"

Even in Cozumel, news from Trumplandia was unavoidable.  With great personal interest and concern, I followed yet another last-ditch attempt by GOP Senators to kill me by replacing Obamacare with some cost-prohibitive piece of shit.  Again I peppered my cowardly senator, Rob Portman, with emails and got the usual response from him -- nothing.  Again, John McCain rode to the rescue.  This is ridiculous and it's wearing me out.

Where we were, we escaped the hurricanes and earthquakes, but Puerto Rico was pounded by Hurricane Maria.  Our dilly-dallying fake president, a.k.a. Malice In Blunderland, doesn't even know that Puerto Rico is a U.S. territory but he does know that "this thing called the Atlantic is tough stuff."  He declared the hurricane damage in Puerto Rico is their own fault because they're poor, and he gleefully got into a Twitter war with the mayor of San Juan because she asked for help.  "Do it yourself!" said Drumpf.

The Clown Prince also shot off his big stupid mouth criticizing the football players kneeling in protest.  Social media (including yours truly) and the entire NFL told him to go piss up a rope.



Despite the daily embarrassments flowing from the States, we met many kindred spirits down there, especially among the locals.  In a gesture of solidarity, my new amigos gave me an honorary one-day induction into the Mexican army. 


Here I am working border security, protecting the country against invasion from the Orange Menace to the north.  I was proud to serve.

"Go ahead, make my day."