Point South Mexico - Real Estate and Lifestyle Magazine

Six months ago, I was at the right place, right time, for an unusual scene. We have often observed money trucks, dark bulletproof windshield like a furrowed brow on a serious, gray, heavy-set body, an impregnable fortress of fortunes, pushing through traffic to its next bank.

What is it about the underdog that makes everybody come out and root for him? There are many famous examples of underdogs, but with the sports frenzy going on with the World Cup Soccer games happening in Japan, I will stick to sports underdogs that I know of.

There was once this fellow named Murphy who made up a law. It seems that in Murphy's world anything that could go wrong did go wrong. It also seems that Murphy had to work hard to make sure that things actually went wrong. Then Murphy moved to Mexico.

Our little home in Chula Vista has apparently been shared from time immemorial with the swallows. They nest in sconce type light fixtures on our entry porch. They make a big mess. They are not easily discouraged. I cleaned all the nests and messes and hung out a No Trespassing sign using my best efforts at bird language. They failed to get the message. So after hollering at them and stamping our feet without success, I soaked them with the hose. That worked but only for a while. Our rental agents said that swallows couldn't abide the smell of diesel oil. So I bought some diesel oil and fuelled their nests. It is true - swallows don't like the smell of diesel oil in their bed. None of us do. So they wouldn't nest in the oil, but they sent their most capable spokesbird to plead their case. He (or she) flew in, sat on the edge of the porch chairs and stared at me. Also, we had been leaving the doors open because of very hot spring weather, and this bird flew in the house and out again to get my attention. I allowed as how it must be a reincarnated friend or relative, so I attempted a conversation with him-her-it. The damned thing talked back. But since my skill at bird language is even worse than my Spanish, the conversation remained one sided. After one full week of this game, I concluded that the bird was probably a reincarnation of one of my wife's stubborn Dutch relatives, and I gave up. I quit dieseling one of the lamps, and the swallows returned as they always do.