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“Mom, are you having a mid-life crisis?” asked my daughter.
“I can’t have a mid-life crisis. I’m too old.”
“Last week a dog. This week a car. What are you thinking?”
It wasn’t really even my own idea. When I first moved to Mexico, I lived in Mazatlan, a large city with excellent public transportation. I soon realized I didn’t need a car. Buses and pulmonias and taxis were easy, cheap to use, and could get me anywhere I wanted to be.
It’s not the same here in Etzatlan, but I still manage, plus I don’t have the care and feeding of an automobile I’d seldom use a...
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