TO BE HAND-DELIVERED TO THE MAYOR OF PUERTO VALLARTA'S OFFICE THIS MORNING.
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
Dear Senor Mayor:
I would first like to take this opportunity to apologize to you for what I have this morning realized was my error of assumption of your intentions and actions regarding what can only be called an extreme crisis of drugs -- most specifically, crack cocaine -- in our City of Puerto Vallarta. And, thank God, I can confidently now say, the crisis has passed the extreme stage.
I have, all this time, assumed you did not reply to my letter of nearly three weeks ago, because you were actively involved in drug trafficking -- or at least supported it. But as I consider my observations, I see that this is probably not true at all. Much more likely is that your own political situation was for some time so tenuous that you could not have replied to me in writing except to tell me lies, and because of your personal integrity, you chose to not reply at all -- correctly assuming that no matter how abusive of you I might get in my communications with others, I would eventually deduce the truth.
You, sir, were correct in your decision, and I salute you!
A couple of facts that support my theory:
Almost immediately after I wrote you, the informal network of cops-of-good-will and common citizens who seem to protect me strengthened considerably.
This support was so strong that I never felt in REAL danger during the month I lived by the cemetery, which I suppose is pretty amazing, given what any Mexicans in-the-know have told me about the nature of that neighborhood since. (True that Enrique Rojas tried to kill me there, but I must admit: I all but invited him to do it.)
By the Grace of God, I have moved, and you might get a kick out of the peculiar form that God’s grace can take.
At 3:30 in the morning of Sept. 15 (or thereabout), I awoke from an unintentionally extended evening nap. As I prepared to do a little writing at my computer, a man called to me in a way that was most friendly -- so friendly that I did not even have a jump of the heart that I might be unsafe to immediately open my door to welcome my visitor, and talk to such a person then and there. He wanted to sell me one of the three pair of his used (but still nice) jeans he was carrying, and the silly boy, absolutely INSISTED that I check all three for length, even though the first pair was clearly too short. (You might recall that I am 6’ 11”. He was 5’ 7”.) I had only checked the first pair as a curtesy to honor his eagerness to sell. Normally, I would have laughed at the idea that his jeans could possibly fit me.
Well, we ended up having an extended conversation, and I moved into his house immediately. (I know all Mexicans reading this know that this man had to be a crack addict, but being American, I had no common sense and was bewitched by his schtick and never thought to wonder what he was doing wandering the streets at 3:30 in the morning trying to convince giants they would fit into his jeans -- AND that they would want to buy them.)
The best news is that we have formed a family with his other tenants in a fine large house which is paid off, so no mortgage HAS to be paid. And THAT really takes a load off one’s mind. The other tenants, including two who were recently deported (which included many months of absolutely unnecessary incarceration!!!) from You-Know-Where (Los Angeles, to be specific), their young friend (also just arrived in town after deportation -- importation?), and a most exotic woman of about my age who reminds me of Tina Turner, have performed an intervention on our landlord, and so far, it is going very well!
If the technique we are making up as we go along proves successful, maybe it would be helpful for me to speak with public health officials to see if what we’ve learned is anything new and might help other Mexican (and other) families.
So, sir, mostly what I wanted to do was to apologize for my rash judgement and any embarrassment I might have caused you, but also to entertain you a bit. Nothing pleases me more than to bring a smile to a Mexican’s face, although I must also say, no people on earth smile more than the Mexican people, and for good reason!
I can tell you that from what I’ve seen, Puerto Vallarta’s health has recently improved noticeably, and it is strengthening at an accelerating pace. I’m certain that your firm hold on your integrity -- regardless what it might have looked like to people not-in-the-greater-know during that darkest hour, right before dawn, had to have been the bulwark of strength that the town’s citizens most needed.
For that, sir, I salute you, humbly.
Best regards,
Scott D. Kenan
scott@scottkenan.com
scottkenan.blogspot.com
www.walkingonglass.net
PS: Still no phone, and, in fact, no electricity now either. LOL!!! But we do have arrangements with a neighbor to tap his juice with an extension cord so we can run vital equipment. (Read: my computer and its monitor on which we watch my collection of over 200 DVDs. In fact, my roommates are having so much fun, I hate to take back my computer to write, even.)
Perhaps some day in the not-too-distant future, you and I can share a fine PV-made cigar and a glass of cognac -- and laugh with gusto while swapping recent war stories!!!
HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!
(Plans for Tennessee Williams' 100th birthday celebration are coming slowly, but do now include definite interest from Teatro Vallarta!)
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