The paper and ink newspaper as we know it is dying out. More people are reading the news on the Internet, including me. Newspaper deliveries are declining every year.

However, I still enjoy holding a hard copy of the newspaper. Besides, I enjoy crossword puzzles on paper rather than doing it on the computer. So, this morning, I walked to the corner coffee shop to buy either the Chicago Sun-Times or the Chicago Tribune after shoveling the snow from my sidewalks in 4-degree temperature.

Imagine my surprise when I saw that there were no more newspapers left at the coffee shop! I asked if they had already sold out. No! They were never delivered because of the cold temperatures and snow!

I remember when I was a boy and had a paper route, I always delivered the newspaper regardless of the weather! Once after a snowstorm, I wanted to ensure that all my customers received their newspapers, so I tied a cardboard box to my sled and went to pick up my newspapers at the branch office. All the other delivery boys laughed at me when they saw me pulling the sled. Even the owner of the delivery service laughed.

I rolled up my newspapers and placed them in the box on my sled. The other boys would deliver their papers using bikes and wagons as they usually did, or so they thought. Well, I delivered all my newspapers through about two feet of snow, even though it did take me a lot longer than usual. I was immensely proud of my idea of using a sled to deliver my newspapers even if everyone else laughed at me. The next day, when I went to the branch office to deliver the papers, all the other boys had brought a sled with them. I burst out laughing when I saw all the sleds! I couldn’t resist. Everyone complained about how they got stuck in the snow with their bikes and wagons. They took hours longer to make all their deliveries.

As I delivered the newspapers, I often fantasized about other things, the usual boyhood fantasies about cars and girls, in that order. I thought, if I were rich enough, I would deliver my newspapers from the back of my limousine. And, I wouldn’t even have to get out. I would have the chauffeur carefully place the newspaper between the screen door and door, but I would watch him vigilantly to ensure he delivered it properly. For the sake of variety, I thought that I would have seven limousines, so I could have a different color for each day of the week. This way I wouldn’t get bored. This was my favorite fantasy until my best friend Patrick pointed out that if I were rich enough to have a chauffeur and a limousine, let alone seven, I wouldn’t even need a paper route to earn some spending money.

Just a word of warning if you go to Mexico. Don’t expect comfortable seating in the bathroom if you stray far from the traditional tourist areas. If you don’t have regular bowel movements, the typical Mexican diet will have you visiting the sanatorio regularly. But make sure you always carry loose change because you need two pesos to use most sanatorios. And only after you pay will someone hand you toilet paper if you really need it.

What I noticed in most bathrooms, since I am a regular guy, was that most toilet seats were either broken or missing. Missing, I assume, because someone stole it, or, broken, I assume, because someone caught the perpetrator in the act of stealing it. Of course, this wouldn’t pose any problems for the average woman, since I understand that their buttocks have never actually touched the toilet seat of any public bathroom. And all public bathrooms have a wastebasket next to the toilet for you to dispose of your used toilet paper. If you put the toilet paper in the toilet and flush it, the toilet will back up. However, most people fold the used toilet paper and all you see is white in the wastebasket. Of course, in some homes, you can actually flush the toilet paper.

As gross as all this may sound, this is actually an improvement in sanitation from when I went to Mexico as a boy. I remember having to cut newspapers into small squares that would be placed on a nail near the toilet bowl and the accompanying wastebasket. I really hated wiping myself with newspaper because you had to use extreme caution not to scrape yourself.

However, once I spent a week on a farm in Celaya, Mexico, I stopped complaining about the newspaper. On el rancho, I had to go really bad. I mean I held it as long as I could, until I thought I would burst. You see, we had to go to the pig sty to do our duty and then wipe ourselves with a corn husk. As a nine-year-old boy, this terrified me, especially after the first time. I entered the pig sty, dropped my pants to my knees, and squatted. A few pigs gathered round to watch me. Before my feces even hit the ground, the pigs had gobbled them up! Ditto for the soiled corn husks!

So, if you go to Mexico, be thankful for the improvements in the sanitation system.

One thing I noticed about México was that everyone puts peppers and/or salsa on everything! Even small children put spicy sauce on everything. Would you believe even the Lolly pops are spicy?

Last night, I went to a fair and had a Michelada, which consisted of dark Victoria beer, lime, pimento, and a bunch of other cosas that I now forget. Not only was it spicy, but it came in one-liter portions! I wanted a small one, the smallest one they had was one liter. Needless to say, I didn’t finish it. I had about three gulps left.

I would have finished it, but my cousin asked me if I wanted papitas (potato chips) and I foolishly said yes. That’s right, even the potato chips had salsa. I almost OD’d on salsa last night.

Okay, now that I’ve spent some time in México, I realize that it’s been a little more than a short while since my last visit. My relatives who remembered my last visit asked me how long ago I came. Well, I visited them 29 years ago!

My! How everyone has changed since then! My cousins who were small children are now adults. Some of them are not only parents, but also grandparents. I should go back to México more frequently to keep up with the latest family additions.

They were also asking me about my first wife that I divorced long ago. I had to tell them about my second wife, whom I also married and divorced since my last visit to México, and my three sons. Everyone expressed genuine interest in our family in Chicago, my sons, and me.

I felt very welcome in México, especially since I have a lot of relatives here. At the border, there was a big sign that read, “Bienvenido paisano.” And there were a lot of Mexicans like me returning to visit family. I was considering moving to México after my retirement from the police department and now I have the opportunity to do it. I’ll have to think it over carefully when I return to Chicago. Of course, I’d have to live in a house with Internet access and all the amenities. I wrote my last two Blog entries from an Internet Cafe. For me, that’s roughing it!

Okay, while in Celaya, Guanajuato, México, I met another David Rodríguez! I have a cousin named David Rodríguez!

Before I met him again, I introduced myself to his brothers and sisters, also my cousins, as David Rodríguez. They all gave me that same puzzled look because the only David Rodríguez they know is their brother. Add another list to the world population of David Rodríguezes. This one plus the two that one of my Spanish students told me about. She had two, count them, two Spanish teachers who were named David Rodríguez before me!