Ruminations on Mexico 

Street lines are a luxury; stop signs are merely a suggestion.

My shuttle driver doesn’t give a fuck. No turn signals, riding on the shoulder, running red lights. Bawse.

Cars come in 4 colors. Black, white, silver and Electric Royal Blue.

The highway in Playa del Carmen is built like a 4 year olds hot wheels track. For elevation, place book under center.

When someone says 'shit' on TV, the subtitles say “diablos” or devils. Even on HBO.

Hot moms are quite in demand, but overweight Italian grandmothers are more abundant.

Why would anyone smoke regularly, the one cigar I had has ruined my second day on the resort.

There is a fine line between sleeping at the bar and passing out.  I truly believe I did the former. I’m certainly no stranger to the latter.

"Hector is hangover for life"- one guide referring to our other tour guide after going to the Coco Bongo club.

Bigger cups don’t mean better. A warm mai tai doesn’t excuse getting up for another fresh one.

Why would you go to a bar on land when you can go to in the water?

My broken Spanish goes a long long way. That said my sister’s friend Jake could not understand the proper way to say ciao bella. Here is the exchange he had with the hostess at the steakhouse.

“Hey, chabella.”-Jake says with a douchey nod.

“Que?”-Chica.

“Chabella”-Jake says with a slight dejectedness

“No comprende…”-Chica.

“Dude, its two words, ‘chow-bell-a’”-Airreck (me)

“Cha…. Bella”-Jake.

“Ooooohhhh”-Chica, as she turns away.

Toasts are hard. I hope I don’t fuck up this speech thing, is all I could think before giving my Man of Honor toast.

Had a great pool bar chat with my dad about lots of nonsense. It all started by talking about Malcolm Gladwell ended somewhere around generational/situational poverty. Somewhere we talked about improv helping me get over being shy.

Time is relative. So is spelling. Bawse.

When instructing people on how to dance Mexican, use less words, more actions.

Breakfast is the king of meals. You basically can’t fuck it up. Only has upside.

The merits of Street Fighter versus Mortal Kombat comes down to if you like interesting characters (SF) or easter egg finishing moves (MK). I think younger Airreck loved Street Fighter, but this Airreck would enjoy Mortal Kombat more if I played more video games. Oh, someone was wearing a Mortal Kombat t-shirt. #Connection

Its harder to avoid drinking than to just drink. It probably would have simplified my speech. #Hindsight2020

Dan and Alex do Troy and Abed’s handshake. I taught them the secret handshake, watching two generations connect while doing this makes me very happy.

I think the fly in my bathroom just killed itself but flying too close to the light bulb. #IcarusProblems.

Jack has a nickname for everyone. He remembers them all and uses them smoothly. Well played sir, well played.

Gary’s business card should just say “business handler”. Cause he handles business.

Jacob, MC. Or midget of ceremonies. Point Eric.

Apparently my speech was good. I was shaking for a half an hour before and after giving it.My mom had to reassure me.

My sister ROCKED the blue and white dress. Looking good sis.

I’m sweating profusely.

Watching my dad dancing is an amazing thing.

Nice to see that others realize how funny my mama can be. You just have to get by her being quiet. I get my goofiness from my pops, the sharper snark from her.

Jaguars must be the official name of Latin American dance clubs (see: Mexico, Belize).

Even drunk, “Tonight’s Going to be a Good Night” by the Black Eyed Peas is terrible.

The NFL’s Red Zone channel in Mexico is Ritual: Zona De Touchdown. The announcers are burdened with the same tact US announcers are. During KCs failed online kick, the Mexican announcer giggled for like 10 seconds. It was amazing.

Something about the way the marriage ceremony guy said Yvonne was soothing. He only said it twice though, for my sisters middle name and my mother’s first.

Million-dollar idea, cocaine shakers and freshly ground crack rock. Some of the meals in the buffet could use a sprinkle.

When the music was cut off during the ceremony, everyone proceeded to yell “Uno mas uno mas.”

Houston’s Bush international airport is now ranked below JFK for worst in my eyes. Stupid airport.

Goodnight moon, goodnight liver.