Misadventures in Mexico

Some men are downright foolish. Like that time in Puerto Vallarta when I decided to bask in the sun while plagued by a 103-degree fever. Some men are also lucky. I was blissfully unaware of my deprived condition due to magical beverages and beautiful company.

I also simply refused to believe I was sick. I rarely succumb to illness. My indelible pep is reliably as stubborn as I am. But there I was, sick as a shivering chihuahua, and none the wiser. It turns out that baking under the sun doesn’t soothe a fever and soon I was in even worse condition. By this time I’d left Puerto Vallarta and caught a flight to Mexico City. I must have infected every single passenger on that flight, bless their souls.

I bet you’re thinking that I regained my health and enjoyed the culture and beauty of Mexico City. Nope, the end of this story isn’t like in the fairy tales. I was sequestered to my hotel room the entire visit and observed Mexico City from a mid-level hotel room window.

Some of you might be thinking, what’s the point of the story then? I’ll tell you! The beginning of that trip to Mexico was amazing and I would do it all over again, nearly dying and all! Because sometimes life is a cup half full and sometimes it is a cup half empty. You’ve got to take the good with the bad. And you can’t let the bad get you down and make you fearful of when it comes again, and it will come again.

It’s important to be foolish because that’s the only way you’ll get lucky.

Sometimes it’s alright to be foolish. In fact, it’s even needed. If you never push the limits you’ll never grow. Nothing will be discovered. Life isn’t meant to be lived that way. That’s not living at all. You might as well be a fucking rock.

Those who are too scared to be foolish will never truly live.

May you be foolish and live to tell the tale.

I raise a glass to you, reader.

— JDA