And the colored girls go doo, do doo, do doo, do do doo...

There we all were, enjoying a hot, sunny day on the beach in Cholla Bay in Puerto Peñasco, Mexico. Al, me, Alison & Brad. It was really hot, just the way we like it. We were doing what you do when you’re on the beach in Mexico. We girls sat on our camp chairs in the water as we drank Oso Negro Vodka and Squirt. The boys were sitting under the canopy just relaxing and drinking cold Pacificos. The blistering sun steadily made its way across the sky and the ice chest slowly emptied. Drinking all day and sitting in the heat, Al told us he was ready to go. Brad had joined us to cool off. Just a little bit longer we called from the water. A little bit longer turned in to an hour and when we grabbed our chairs to come up the beach Al’s camp chair under the canopy was empty. We figured he had walked down the beach to JJ’s to have a beer while he waited for us. Brad said he’d go get him but came back alone.

We got in the car and drove on the dirt road in Cholla to look for him. Nothing. Back to our spot on the beach. Nothing. Panic started to set in as we wondered where he could possibly be. Hours of sitting in the sun drinking too much beer and he’s gone? In Mexico? More searching. Alison went to the little policía station at the entrance of Cholla Bay to see if they’d seen him or worse….picked him up for something. Crap, we’ve got a bit of a language barrier here. The policía there didn’t speak Inglés and Alison spoke very little Español. “ Mi padre….muy borracho.” Oh, this wasn’t going well. “Mi padre, muy grande, muy alto, ummm, walking…..mi padre, muy borracho.” Then she took her two fingers and made them walk. Finally they understood and told her no, they hadn’t seen him.

By this time it was starting to get dark and my mind was racing. I just knew we’d find my husband dead in a ditch somewhere and I was pretty upset. This was several years ago and anyone who knows the way the road to Cholla used to be, it wandered through the barren desert once outside of Cholla and made its way to “Rodeo Drive.” The resort road wasn’t an option when going to or from Cholla since the resorts were under construction; the road was dirt and blocked from through traffic. We got back to our little hotel, Rosa del Desierto and noticed the light was on in our room. We peeked in through the opening in the curtains and there he was….laying in bed watching TV!! We opened the door with the only key issued and Brad jumped on the bed and started bouncing up and down…. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. “Where were you? We were searching all over. How did you get here?” he sang. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. All the tension and anger I felt dissolved as Brad kept jumping on the bed, lightening the mood.

Turns out when Al has had enough, Al has had enough. As Alison, Brad and I were hanging out in the water, Al got up and walked up the hill to the road and made his way through Cholla (obviously past the policía station) and then took the road towards the resort where vehicles can’t go, hit the beach in front of the resort construction, got IN the water to cool off and swam along the shoreline for quite a while, got out and walked some more where he hitched a ride in the back of a pick up truck with a bunch of Mexican construction workers where they took him straight to our hotel and he somehow communicated to the Spanish speaking front office staff that he needed a key or to be let in to the room. Un-freakin-believable.

Later back at home in Tucson as we talked about this he started singing, “Hey Babe, take a walk on the wild side. Said hey honey, take a walk on the wild side.”

I miss that crazy man.