Please forgive me.

For this one column, I am going to leave aside the foibles and shenanigans of the Lafourche Parish president, the Louisiana Legislature or any of the other frequent and fairly easy targets you might be used to seeing in the space.

There won’t be any discussion of the upcoming elections (though I do encourage you to learn as much as you can about the proposed constitutional amendments and other matters of public concern that will be decided in the coming weeks).

Instead, I want to talk to you about Mexico.

No, I won’t bore you with my take on the hurricane that swept through our southern neighbor on its way north earlier this week.

And I won’t speak much – for now, at least – on the caravan of people making its way through Mexico.

I won’t do more than mention the fact that one seems as scary as the other to the xenophobic sons and daughters of immigrants who now jealously guard their inherited American-ness.

I do have to take brief note of the melting pot, the nation of immigrants, built and strengthened by a regular influx of the huddled masses who came from around the globe to build a better life and in the course of so doing made our nation better.

Now, ironically, that nation seeks to wall itself off from outsiders, imposing tariffs and shutting down borders, separating families and threatening deportation – all in the service of the forces of hatred and bigotry.

Anyway, this column isn’t about any of those things. While America was haunted by the specter of a couple of thousand people coming this way, my wife and I headed that way. We went south, to the Riviera Maya. We weren’t on any sort of diplomatic or humanitarian mission; we just wanted a few days of sun and fun with a handful of close friends.

The 10 of us left New Orleans last week, travelled north to Atlanta, then south to Cancun. There we boarded a bus and headed south once more. We arrived at our oasis among the palm trees – a place filled with bars, restaurants, pools and beaches.

We had a few days of rain, but the same sort of weather we would have had right here in south Louisiana.

The people whose ancestors came, often impoverished, to this continent from Ireland, Sicily, Germany, England, France and just about everywhere else found ourselves being treated to the best food and service this resort could muster.

My wife and I had worried briefly about the rare negative reviews we found online as we researched our destination. But after nearly a week in its care, we determined that those who left there unhappy had no doubt arrived that way as well and would have been equally miserable anywhere.

We, on the other hand, reveled in the plentiful provisions and friendly service, as well as the company of our friends and of each other.

It was a great get-away, one that was overdue. Tammy and I hadn’t taken a trip together for far too long, and this was a wonderful way to break the trend.

As great as it was to get to the resort that allowed us such a nice time, it was equally sad to part with it – though we both agreed it was nice to get back to our own humble home Tuesday night.

It will take a few days to get used to having to get our own food and drinks. But we’ll just be anticipating the next trip south. I just hope Mexico doesn’t build a wall to keep out the people who made more than their fair use of the all-inclusive resort.

Hasta luego.

 

-- Editorial Page Editor Michael Gorman can be reached at 448-7612 or mike.gorman@dailycomet.com. Follow him on Twitter @mikegormanla.