Trivia Night at the Rusty Compass

Setting the Scene

Thursday afternoon at the Rusty Compass wasn’t just about drinks and trivia—it turned into a spectacle we’ll never forget. We grabbed a table, ordered our drinks, and settled in. But before the trivia even began, the real entertainment walked through the door.

The Characters

A group of five nearby plotted their domination of the music trivia world, cleverly recruiting a Canadian couple to cover any songs from north of the border. Then came the unforgettable entrance: an older gentleman in a wild toucan Hawaiian shirt, and his flamboyant companion—decked out in a sheer see trough top hardly covering the largest breasts you could imagine, tight denim shorts, and oversized sunglasses dripping with rhinestones. It was a scene straight out of Taxi Driver, and one we’ll never unsee.

The Contest

The trivia itself was simple: identify song titles, artists, or quirky facts while the moderator played generous clips. Our team worked together—Beth nailed the country songs, Linda and I chipped in with titles, and Deb carried us through most of the rounds. Meanwhile, the rowdy team in front of us shouted answers, more drunk than strategic.

Points weren’t just for correct answers. Margaritas, finger foods, t-shirts, and hats all earned bonus credit. Only in Mexico could nachos boost your trivia score.

The Results

When the dust settled, the stacked team of eight—musicians, drunks, and one unforgettable character—took first place. We came in second, which felt like a victory considering our smaller numbers. Half the brainpower, nearly the same score.

Paradise Vibes

And honestly, who cares about winning when you’re sipping drinks on the beach, spotting whales, and laughing with friends? Just another day in paradise. Wasn’t that a Phil Collins song?

DB/AI 

Sunset Rhythms in Melaque

The flow of life down in Melaque has changed a bit in two years. More construction, higher prices, and of course more tourists. Yet the heart of the town feels much the same. We’ve slipped back into the daily rhythm, reconnecting with friends we’ve made over 25 years of week-long and longer stays. Faces are familiar, conversations spark easily, and each encounter carries a memory of past visits. Happiness seems to hang in the air here — maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the way life slows down.

Evenings bring their own ritual. Most folks gather to watch the sunset, and last night Beth, Deb (Beth’s sister), Linda and I found ourselves at The Rusty Compass, a beach bar with a front-row view of the horizon. We shared appetizers while a talented musician played electric piano and sang. His playlist wandered through slower, somewhat obscure songs — Talking Heads, REM, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie — each one a puzzle we tried to solve as the sky shifted from gold to deep violet. With music, laughter, and the ocean as backdrop, life couldn’t feel much better.

That’s the magic of Melaque: even as the town grows and changes, the rhythm of connection remains. A smile from a familiar face, a wave across the street, a shared memory over a drink — these small moments stitch together the larger story of why we keep returning. The sunsets remind us that some rhythms are timeless, and in their glow, we find ourselves exactly where we’re meant to be.

DB/AI

Mexico Return

The journey began at the ungodly hour of 4:00 AM, when our next-door neighbor backed his SUV into our driveway and helped us load the luggage. Steve and Jodie have proven, yet again, that they’re the best neighbors in the world — the kind you’d nominate for sainthood if sainthood included airport runs.

At Spokane Airport, everything went surprisingly smooth. Bags checked, security cleared… well, almost. I forgot to mention my titanium knees to the TSA agent, which earned me a short but friendly lecture about declaring metal before stepping through the detector. Lesson learned: titanium may be strong, but it’s not stealthy.

Melaque, it's good to be back.

This was our first time in years flying Spokane → Los Angeles → Manzanillo. The flight into L.A. landed early, but then we sat waiting for a gate to open. Normally, no big deal — except we had a tight connection. Alaska Airlines announced that six passengers had short transfer times, and we were two of them. Cue the tension. When the plane door finally opened, the six of us sprinted like contestants on The Amazing Race. Luckily, all the gates were close together, so we hustled over and made it in time.

The final flight was uneventful (always the best kind), and before long Linda had us in a taxi headed to Sunny Side Luxury Villas. Two smiling employees greeted us at the door, and just like that, stage one of the adventure was complete.

Laguna del Tule

First order of business: unpack a little, get the apartment layout figured out, and then head to Gaby’s for street tacos. Nothing says “we’ve arrived in Mexico” quite like tacos on the corner. After a quick shower back at the casa, we melted into bed.

Linda was up early the next morning, already walking and shopping like a local. I, on the other hand, slept in — travel always knocks me off rhythm, and it takes me a couple of days to find my groove again.

Day two was all about settling in. We made lists of groceries and kitchen items to make life easier, then walked to Las Palmas to reunite with our volleyball crew. It was a warm reunion, and we were welcomed back into the group like no time had passed.

One of the two pools at Sunny Side, from our balcony.

Our friend Beth is back in Melaque, staying at the same casa where Linda and I stayed two years ago. This time she’s joined by her sister Deb and Deb’s husband Darrel. We met up with them for drinks at the pool at Laguna de Tulla, which sounded like a perfect plan until an obnoxious group of gringos decided to blast old rock and roll so loud that conversation was impossible. Rather than risk needing hearing aids before dinner, we relocated to a quieter spot where we could actually talk and enjoy each other’s company.

The next day was all about sports. We spent hours together watching our teams fight for a chance to move on in the championship. There’s something special about sharing those tense moments with friends — the highs, the lows, and the collective groans when a play doesn’t go our way. It wasn’t just about the games; it was about being together, picking up right where we left off, and making new memories in a familiar place. 

Since then, our days have been filled with exploring bodegas, gathering provisions, eating more street tacos (yes, there’s a theme here), and watching NFL playoff games. And of course — Go SEAHAWKS!

Can't figure out why I'm still hungry after lunch,

My morning coffee buddy. We meet each AM.

Our luxurious front room.

El baño.

The bedroom.

Our deluxe kitchen.

DB/AI