Thursday, March 13, 2008

Passport to Cabo

HOLA!!! Julie and I recently had a wonderful vacation in Cabo San Lucas or "Cabo" to the common spring break party hound. The trip was filled with sun, rough sand and good friends. But the true story of this adventure lies in getting there.

It all started back in January when my company announced to my brother with a message in a bottle that I had qualified for the trip. Unfortunately, they didn't contact me quickly and by the time I got my salt filled bottle with a weather worn message and drink umbrella, Julie and I had to apply for "express" service passports. Now the fun gets started - the following is the "short, SHORT version of what happened."

It started off like any other application, we gathered our birth certificates, went to the post office and paid through the nose for our processing fees as I shed bitter victimized tears. I got my passport in about 1 week, however, Julie's was delayed. Finally, she got a letter stating that her birth certificate was an informational copy and didn't have the embossed seal which would really prove she had been born. She was instructed to get the right copy and send it in pronto. She contacted her ever-able mother who promptly went to the county recorder's office in San Diego to get the document, however it was not on file. Nor was it to be found several days later after a search of records in Sacramento. By this time, we only had a couple of weeks remaining before the trip and needless to say, we were quite stressed out. In fact, let's take a breather and look at the coastline of our destination below (yes, I actually took that picture!!!):
The passport people said to have Sacramento fax a copy of a letter stating that the search came up dry, and they would go ahead with the application. WRONG. We got another letter later that week saying that didn't cut it and we'd have to send in more documentation. So we sent baptismal records, marriage certificate, etc. The Friday before we had to leave, we finally got a helpful person on the phone (you can't talk to them directly, they have an answering service that forwards messages to the actual workers ) who said she still wasn't approved, but set up an appointment for us the following Monday, where we could plead our case. This helpful lady offered up some advice, that still baffles me. She suggested that to prove Julie is who she claims to be, all she would have to do is produce a high-school yearbook, point to the picture and say: "That's me!"

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!!!! I'm sure this lady had her had over the microphone laughing the whole time telling her co-worker that, "I got another one to believe it!!" But why not??? I still look like I did in High school - or at least there is a vague similarity to John Felcher from 12th grade English. This was the most pathetic, bogus-cockamamia-hair brained-worthless suggestion ever handed out by a government employee. I'm going to show up at the airport with my year-book and try to get through security. I'll get them to look past all the "Fletch - stay cool and have a good summer" signatures and verify from the glorious fountain of all truth - my yearbook, that I am who I say I am. Despite wearing a mask, the picture of Darth on the right articulates my emotions at that moment quite well.

Here is my other problem. ITS MEXICO!!! They walk over here all the time! Can't we go put money in their economy directly? But wait - Julie could be a terrorist. Just look at that mug shot. Its enough to make Dick Cheney's blood run cold. I honestly wondered if she was Pakistani when I first met her. I almost dropped the "terrorist" question before getting engaged, but I didn't want her to have to torture me to death for asking. Let me say this here and now: MY WIFE IS THE BIGGEST THREAT ON THE PLANET TO NATIONAL SECURITY. The Patriot act was invented to find her and it still hasn't worked. - And no, I'm not asking for one of you three readers to rescue me from her clutches. Perhaps you think she is a flight risk for a crime or trying to smuggle money? Trust me, she would not bother to skip the country to spend it.

But enough sarcasm. Julie went to the LA office and got a temporary permit after a brief wait of 4 hours in the asylum/application room, likely watching Montell and Maury and going mad. But at last it was done.

Finally we arrived in Cabo. It was fantastic and more expensive than the US. I'm not even sure the vaunted Mexican Vanilla is much of a deal. Go to Khols or Macy's and save your money if you need trinket jewelry. We stayed at the RIU Palace which was an all-inclusive hotel with 5 restaurants, free room service, buffet, drinks on the beach AND ALL THE ALCOHOL YOU CAN DRINK!!! I wanted to make a stop at Cabo Wabo in honor of Van Halen and Sammy Hagar, but it wasn't meant to be. I noticed that there are quite a few clubs run by old 80s metal bands, which endeared me quite a bit to the area. The town is apparently prospering and I'm happy for them. I was also pleased to add another mask to my small collection.

At the end of the trip I was toasted golden brown, fully exfoliated from being slammed on the beach by killer waves, and filled with a gratuitous amount of filthy buffet food. Yes, I had a good time. Hasta la vista and ciao.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

If you are a real fan of 80s metal, I can't believe you didn't go to Cabo Wabo. It changed my life forever. Now I have a kid from a Junior at the University of Virginia that I "met" down there. I pay child support and nearly all of my discretionary income on my illegitimate family. I guess I can now empathize with the likes of Shawn Kemp and Travis Henry, which puts me in some pretty awesome company. Really dude, you missed out. Now, make the Van Halen sign with your fingers and shout at the top of your lungs, "HALEN!!!"

Fletch said...

Yes, the moment we landed, I saw a big sign for Cabo Wabo and had that song stuck in my head for the whole 30 min cab ride to the hotel.

BTW - We split a cab with another couple and we started to chat. Right in the middle of our conversation, the driver just starts blaring some crazy mexican dance music. It was so unbelievably rude that I just started laughing out loud. Ah, the good times.

Anonymous said...

YOU TOOL!!!

Didn't you have that jerk turn off the music so you could talk? Who was paying for the cab ride?

Next time you travel, show some American courage and tell that dude to shut of his native music, because you find it offensive and talk in peace or with Garth Brooks like you were meant to.

Seth Jenson said...

i saw your mom recently at a recital with liz george rivard's french horn playing husband. she's proud of your writing abilities and excited to have you moving out to denver.

sounds like two trips in one - the first one all about getting julie's passport. looks like you'll be all set for our mexico trip in september with the joneses. i hope that's still on.