The American Dream……

An American businessman was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

The Mexican replied, “Only a little while.”

The American then asked, “why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?”

The Mexican said, “I have enough to support my family’s immediate needs.”

The American then asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”

The Mexican fisherman said, “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor.”

The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds buy a bigger boat. With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats, eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution.

You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But senor, how long will this all take?”

To which the American replied, “15-20 years.”

“But what then, senor?”

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.”

“Millions, senor? Then what?”

The American said, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos.”

“But senor,” laughed the Mexican fisherman, “I have all this already.”

This piece of cheap art has always graced our front doorway. It is a reminder that when we get the impulse to run, we should act on it.

I’m sure you can tell by the direction this blog has taken that we have been getting itchy feet. When you are out of step with nearly everyone around you, it is time to move on.

For the past 5 years, Bob and I have been trying to live in a culture that is so oil-dependant that the current regime saw fit to go to war over it. Our food is grown with it, most of the products we encounter on a daily basis are made from it, the streets are paved in it, and the landfills are choked with it. Walking is a thing of the past. So we are packing up and leaving the country.

With another nasty presidential election looming on our horizon, we made the decision to bail out. Within 10 days we solicited and received an offer for employment outside the United States. In about 6 weeks we will assume the roles of managers at Casa Iguana on 740-acre Little Corn Island off the mosquito coast of Nicaragua.

On Little Corn Island, there are no automobiles, Wal-Marts, jet skis and if we are lucky, no weed whackers or leaf blowers. Things arrive via small boat and make their way around the island via wheelbarrow.

What we have seen of the industrialized, oil-driven culture is that it is a killer. It is responsible for the widening gap between the haves and the have-nots, the hole in our atmosphere, disease, a feeling of dog-eat-dog isolation and the corresponding rise in mental illness, drug abuse, corporate crime, despair and destruction.

“The Iraqis possess the ultimate weapon of mass destruction and that is oil.” – Camille Armantrout