14 PUNCHMAGAZINE.COM {sloane citron} feel bad for the other guy selling the exact same hats and I think to myself that he should try selling sunglasses. And so, some of my vacation is spent watching to see how these peddlers do. Besides partaking in this rather useless activity, several times a day I take some of the little kids hunting for shells. We find plenty. I don’t think any of them ever make it home, but it’s the search that makes this fun. One day, as we are walking toward the ocean, we see a man gathering just-hatched turtles. This is a grand highlight. We slowly walk alongside two of the hatchlings working their way toward the ocean and don’t stop urging them on until the little guys finally make it into the surf. We spend a good amount of time and energy finding and eating food. Sixteen of us times three meals a day is 48 meals a day. It adds up, but between the grocery store, the resort restaurants and a few dining trips to the OUTSIDE, no one complains. Waiters traverse the sand to our cabanas and bring us drinks, french fries (tons of french fries), so many fish tacos that I start to hate them, kids’ meals and so on. We stay satiated and are full before every regular meal. Much of our time on this trip was spent in the various bodies of water since several of the little grandkids can now swim. The pattern goes something like this: pool 1; jacuzzi; pool 2; jacuzzi; kiddie pool (and its slide!); back to pool 1; beach chairs. Repeat until the kids are worn out, which is never. Finally, to my delight, my kids went on several buying sprees at our oceanside tiendas. The grandkids went on the 10-minute horse rides; several bracelets were bought; granddaughters got their hair braided; and a few of the minisurfboards were purchased just to quiet down the boys. As for the vendors who missed out on our largesse, I took some cash to them before we left and wished them a Feliz Navidad. Hopefully, it brought them some holiday cheer; I know it brought me some. Recently, as we have for the past decade, my family made a holiday trip to San José del Cabo, Mexico. I’m lucky to have three daughters who take care of each and every detail, from my plane ticket to meals to resort reservations. At the airport check-in, I’m like a 10-year-old boy, raising my hand when the airline counter agent calls out my name, with my passport in hand. It took some time for me to accept my non-leadership role on these trips since that burden was mine for many decades. But what a joy to simply show up. I used to care about making decisions, but that bravado has long been silenced. There are 16 of us, our immediate family, with seven little kids ages six and under (and two more on their way) and the fewer opinions put forth, the better. Though I might desperately want to go to a certain restaurant in downtown Cabo, I keep my mouth shut. And when the bickering starts, I walk away. I just don’t have the patience for it anymore. My children seem to do just fine without my opinions. We always go to the same place, a name that my brain simply refuses to remember, but is one of a multitude of lovely resorts on the water, with multiple swimming pools, several restaurants and hundreds of beach cabanas facing the ocean. Whoever gets up earliest goes down to commandeer enough space for our family. On this trip, like others, once we are comfortably ensconced in our cabanas and looking out at the ocean, one of the more difficult challenges of the trip stares me in the face: men and women—outside of the resort’s boundaries—trying to sell us something. This year, the selection included horses to ride, tropical wide-brimmed hats, jewelry, 10 feet away more tropical wide-brimmed hats, hair-braiding, bracelets, NFLpainted mini surfboards, shirts, ponchos and massages. These earnest people are working hard and long hours, and they’re almost certainly not getting the support available in the United States if you are low-income. What they make is likely what they eat. I feel for these men and women as I lounge in my luxurious beachfront resort cabana. I sit there hoping for fellow resort guests to go over and buy something from them. I’m optimistic when a woman draped in a wrap approaches one of the hat guys, and I’m thrilled when I see that she actually buys one. But then I vacation uplift
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