Baja Humbug!

 

A portrait of the author as Groucho Marx, accompanied by his parents as Harpo and Chico. 

Mom was always interested in art. She took a lot of classes. Her preferred medium was watercolors. In their middle years, Dad made enough money as a union heavy equipment mechanic to afford to indulge Mom's artistic pursuits. She went on several extended painting classes/trips to exotic locales such as Portugal and Baja California. Most of these trips were led by famous watercolor artist Richard Yip.

For the Portugal trip, Mom flew there by herself. I have several pictures of her from that trip. She looks extremely happy. It was the first time she had been out of the country, and I'm sure she was enjoying being away from her overbearing husband for a week or so.

The picture at the top of this post was taken in Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico around 1976. For other students of Mr. Yip, there were arrangements for air fare and lodging. In fact, the photo was taken at the hotel where the other students were staying. Perhaps in the interests of frugality, Dad drove Mom and I down to Mexico in our motorhome. It was during the Christmas school holiday, and Dad usually had his vacations at that time, when work in the construction industry was slow. I remember riding in the cab of the motorhome on the narrow, winding roads of Baja California. Drivers of oncoming vehicles showed signs of panic upon seeing the giant motorhome lumbering towards them. Dad would stick his left arm out his window and wave them onward, yelling, "Plenty of room!". Of course, they couldn't hear him, and probably wondered what the crazy gringo was gesticulating and shouting about.

Instead of staying at the hotel with the other students, we stayed at an RV campground near the beach. I thought that Mexico was always warm. Not so. Oh, there were a few days when we didn't need jackets, but it was December, so it was often chilly. At the time, the motorhome had a toilet, but it didn't have a built-in shower (Dad later remodeled and expanded it to include one). One cold, windy day, the 'rents made me go and bathe at the communal shower facility at the campground. The chilly zephyrs whipped through the open windows set high in the concrete walls of the bath house, and the water wasn't even warm! I bravely tried to shower, and made a fair job of it, but arrived back at the motorhome a shivering, blue mess. Mom said that if it was that bad, I shouldn't have done it, but I was raised to do what I was told. I couldn't help but be envious of the smarter guests enjoying warm showers at the hotel.

Despite that, I had a pretty good time in Mexico. Minors could buy powerful fireworks there. I blew up a lot of M-80s. We visited the famous La Bufadora, a place where waves pound into narrow fissures in the cliffs and a geyser of water shoots out of a hole at the top.

M-80s. Contrary to urban legend, they are not a quarter stick of dynamite, but they're still a blast.

La Bufadora -- "the blowhole", or "the snorter".

For some reason there was a costume party held at the hotel. I was obsessed with the Marx Brothers at the time, and I talked the 'rents into dressing as Harpo, Chico and Groucho. Of course, I was Groucho. I had seen a lot of their movies, and I had the bit down. Dad was Harpo, and Mom was Chico. Mom and Dad were old enough to have seen Marx Brothers movies in theatres when they were new releases. I remember Mom telling me how she almost peed her pants at a particularly funny thing Harpo had done in "Night at the Opera".

I don't know if Dad had been to any of their movies in his youth, but he was familiar enough with the concept. I had to give him some coaching on some of Harpo's signature moves. He really got into his role, probably because he saw it as an opportunity to chase frightened women around. His take on Harpo was rather terrifying, as you can see by his mug in the picture.

I have another picture from that same party...

Cursed Image: View with Care.

Apparently these are the winners of various categories of costume. A young boy, whose entire costume seems to consist of a sombrero and bandana atop street clothes, is front and center with a blue and yellow ribbon. I'm guessing he won best in children's costumes. On the right are three... bears? Pigs? Mice? I can't tell, but all those species have famous fairy tales feature trios of them. One of the bear/pig/mouse creatures has an all-yellow ribbon, perhaps second prize for group costume? Behind the boy is a man apparently dressed as a samurai? I don't remember what Richard Yip looked like, and I can't find any pictures of him on the web, but I suspect that may be he. He doesn't seem to have a ribbon, so he may be in the picture in his capacity as host of the event.

And then there's Dad, mugging ferociously for the camera. At first I thought he had simply barged his way into the picture. It would be in keeping with his personality, enhanced by his method approach to his character. But then I noticed that he also has a blue and yellow ribbon. I don't remember him or us winning a prize for our costumes. Was I -- also a child -- passed over for youth costume by a punk in a sombrero and kerchief? If Dad's ribbon was first prize for group costume, why aren't Mom and I also in the picture? If his ribbon is for adult costume... well, I guess he deserved it for his scenery-chewing performance. It just seems unfair because the whole thing was MY idea! I demand a recount!

Lastly, I liked to point out, that if you look closely, there seems to be some sort of purple ectoplasm emananting from Dad's groinal area. This doesn't surprise me at all, considering how he seemed to be possessed by the horny spirit of Harpo Marx that night.

And that's how I spent my Christmas vacation.