While I was waiting for HQ to get the latest round of t-shirts into production, I decided to take a little time to catch up on the news. Economic collapse? Swine Flu pandemic? Murderous drug cartels running amok at the border? Oh dear… In trying times like these it sometimes helps to look to the future for a little chuck under the chin. And you know, the only thing better than thinking about the future is actually visiting it. Lucky for me the city of tomorrow just happens to be thirty miles south of Trailer Rancho. That’s right kids, welcome to Tijuana.

I don’t know what all the bad press is about. Tijuana is a treat. The kind of treat that confuses and shamefully delights. Like a long awkward hug from a disoriented relative who has to register with the authorities. I have to be honest, sometimes in the U.S. I feel like a zero, but in Tijuana, I’m everyone’s hero. People I’ve never met follow me wherever I go and offer me all sorts of free advice. Kids try to give me candy, women make silly noises at me when I walk by and jolly men with blood-shot eyes and funny mustaches pop out of nowhere and just start playing music in my face. It’s downright magical.

Tijuana isn’t just all joy and chickles—it’s progressive too. Just pick a social issue and I guarantee Tijuana’s got it figured. Health care? How ’bout a world where pharmaceuticals are practically free, you don’t need a prescription to get them and there’s a dispensary on every street corner. Helsinki? Nope. Try Tijuana my under-insured friend. Education? People young and old want to be doctors so bad that they dress up in surgical masks just for practice! The economy?  In T-town you can’t even pass a storefront without someone wanting to educate you on their product lines… even if you’ve seen the same exact things two hundred times in the previous block. In San Diego I could walk past a dozen restaurants without so much as a hello, but in the city of the future, commissioned salesmen practically clobber each other to get my patronage.

Imagine some guy you don’t even know following you for blocks with a menu in his hand. The next thing you know you’re getting your boots shined, have somehow purchased thirty dollars worth of beer and ten cent oysters, and the owner has introduced you to his topless daughter who can’t stop telling you how much you look like Ashton Kutcher! Where’s your change? It’s in the economy, Amigo! Did I mention it’s only eleven am? Tokyo? No. Bali Hai? Try again….

So the next time news in the big city gets you down, do yourself a favor and think about what things are like in the city of the future.

…exactly,
Gabe