It's not easy being famous. Believe me, I would know. As one of the world's most high-profile bloggers, with legions of rabid readers veritably slobbering for some of that good old-fashioned brand of McBone wisdom, I have been thrust before the always-watchful public eye. I know what you're thinking: how can a guy who has everything--fabulous riches, trophy wife, perfect teeth--possibly have anything to complain about? Well, I've got news for you people. It's hard sometimes, sitting on top of the world. It's hard having to put on dark glasses just to walk the short distance from the McBonemobile to my high-power job as a bookstore accountant at the local community college. It's hard sifting through the harmless, corn-fed, admiring slobs and those who just want a piece of me. There are plenty of sharks out there, let me tell you, and they'll eat you alive if you let them. And I gotta say, sometimes even a simple autograph can take a lot out of you. How many times have I had to grin and bear it when some booger-crusted little kid sticks a pen and a 8x10 glossy in my face, when all I want is to sip my Château Haut-Brion in peace? Boy, I don't even want to know!
Well, sometimes when you do have everything, your needs become simple. That's why I think I'll head on down to Mexico and start a brand new life, just like Tim McGraw says. See, life is simple in Mexico, where all you really need is a plate of beans and one of those crazy big hats. After that, there's not much to it. Maybe an occasional sip of tequila when I get thirsty, and a whole lot of R&R for when I'm tired. I mean, Dios mio, just think of the siestas I've been missing out on. Sure they've got all those stray dogs and chickens running around, but I don't think they'll bother me. Really, would it be any different from dealing every day with the rabble that constitutes my fan base? Oh, I suppose there is the outside chance that someone will recognize me down there, but if some little Pedrito approaches me for an autograph while I'm trying to sip my banana daquiri in peace, I'll just shrug and say in perfect innocence: ¡No hablo Mexican!
Sounds pretty good, right? Honestly, if it's good enough for James Taylor, it's good enough for everyone, I should think.
Then again, maybe it wouldn't be so terrific. The truth is, there are certain creature comforts that I'm not sure I can live without for too long, like electricity and indoor plumbing. And, truth be told, all those chili peppers are bound to give me some pretty bad bouts of Montezuma's revenge.
And you know what? I'm sure after all that time in Mexico, I'll start to miss this constant shower of attention I've grown accustomed to. So maybe a brand new life isn't really what I need after all. Still, isn't it good to know that God made a whole country where gringos like me can lie low for a few months?