Like a character in a movie where they distort the scene and the character is suddenly moved to the front while everything behind them fades back, except this time the background was being brought into focus while the character sort of faded in - and this time it was me in this scene which was in a Mexican mercado in a small town in the mountains of central Mexico.

The smells of the fresh fruit and vegetables, the sounds of the vendor hawking his (sounds like) "grawmucheles" (a nut the Mexican people from 8 to 80 go bonkers over) were unmistakable as was the structure in which I was standing, a two story open public market unlike anything in Texas. I stood looking up at the second story gallery surrounding the main floor, it was punctuated by small triangular shaped openings near the roof which allowed some light and free passage of the occasional pigeon or other small bird. The only light came from the translucent fiberglass panels in the roof. The building was in some general disrepair, fairly typical of Mexico, again, like nothing you would find in Texas, neither was the sight of a fellow carrying two peeled cows heads to the meat market section of the mercado.

I was there with my neighbor who was shopping for fresh vegetables to make spaghetti sauce. But this couldn't be me surely? - I mean, this was so uncharacteristic of anything I have ever done or would do. Oh, I shop for groceries, but in an HEB or Safeway and why are all these people speaking another language? But then I begin to rejoin the character I've been watching from a distance and it becomes me, not someone else, I'm actually here in Mexico, I live here and have for a year and a half now and yet at times I still have these waking dreams where I smile to myself and wonder how this happened on my life's great stage.

A few times in the past I mentioned expecting to one day wake up and realize where I am and what I've done and thinking "oh my gosh" - but it never happened, the weeks rolled into months and those into seasons and for the most part it all seems "normal" - well, at least for me and for this time in the great adventure.

Sometimes I do find myself detached and wondering how all this happened - it's not an uncomfortable feeling, more one of puzzlement. I mean, this was never my plan, or interest to move to Mexico of all places? I remember after loosing Chris someone said "well, maybe you'll travel and live in another country" and I thought "why would I do that?" - that's not me, I've never even wanted to travel that much, and live in another country? - you have to be kidding, you're talking about someone else.

I generally don't say anything about these little episodes because if you try to explain, people start moving away from you looking out the corner of their eye searching for the nearest escape exit (just in case) while gently suggesting you've been spending too much time in the sun without a hat. The feeling passes as quickly as it comes and I smile and go on my way - but I also look out the corner of my eye to see if anyone has noticed my momentary departure from reality.

I know, I know, I'm sounding weird and it's not like that at all - well, maybe it is now that I think of it. It's nothing new really, I remember shortly after moving to Chicago in '77 I had ridden the train into Monroe St. station and walked with the flowing herd of people over the Chicago River bridge into the Loop and that day I walked over to State St. and stood looking at the Chicago Board of Trade. I was standing there in my 3 piece pin striped suit with briefcase in hand wondering how the heck a kid from Nebraska ever got there, I certainly hadn't planned it, tests I had taken in school said "DON'T BE A SALESMAN" etc. and yet there I was, a salesman in Chicago - and actually doing a pretty good job of it. That was 32 years ago only yesterday.

They say life is what happens to you while you're making other plans, so fast forward through the years and shazaam, heeeeere's Steve in Mexico? But, it's ok, I don't really know where else I'd be - at least for now.