I Need to Win the Powerball So I Can Move to Costa Rica

 

 

Taking a break from my usual doom and gloom Giants/NFL talk to give the subtle-brag of the week.  I’m getting slow cooked in Costa Rica and loving every minute of it.  Straw drinking from coconuts?  You bet.

Really easy for a first world visitor to make a claim that any tropical paradise is the greatest place on earth. But seriously, Costa Rica might indeed be the greatest place on Earth (in actual life, do NOT reference Jurassic Park as a counter).

Before I even examine my own experience, just look at the people native to Costa Rica. People keep telling me this is a blue zone, a place where people have extraordinarily high life expectancy. Do you know how many factors lead to death in the US? Surviving to live a long life back at home seems like an impossibility. Having a fun and relaxing time? One of those vices you do is probably gonna kill you. Working too hard to provide for your family that doesn’t appreciate you? Have fun overcoming stress induced medical issues. And if by some chance you avoid any major issue, you’re probably bragging about it like the POS New Yorker you are and end up getting murdered.

(Side note: heard about the Mayor from Ghostbusters death. RIP. Uttered a top 5 movie line: ” Being miserable and treating other people like dirt is every New Yorker’s God-given right.”)

Oh and if by chance you do get sick, this country apparently has great health care coverage for any Joe Shmoe. Keep in mind this is word of mouth from the other gringos–I didn’t plan on building a bullet-proof thesis here–but those guys have been here long enough and have employed enough Tico’s (the local folk, who all by the way are friendly as shit and want you to have the best time imagineable) to be in the know about local issues.

Next, the booze here is CHEAP. Even the imported stuff can be had for pennies on the dollar. Sign me up. They make their premium drinks like Pina Colada’s and Daiquiris with the freshest fruit. No matter how much hair you got on your chest as a man, you will not be able to look me in the eye and tell me a Costa Rican Daiquiri is not the greatest thing you’ve ever tasted.

Speaking of drinks, the water here is actually good for you. Filled with calcium and other minerals. A major factor in people consistently living to see centuries turn here. In Oneonta, where I go to school, they advised us to not drink the tap water. You have to worry about fracking and getting too much gas into your water supply. Here? Gotta worry about becoming too healthy from your water.

Would you ever be mad living in the place with friendly dogs walking around all the time that just want to be coddled? Last night there were a couple of nice ass Shepherds enjoying dinner with us, making their rounds to all those dining and saying hello.

Dogs too bland for you? There’s monkeys in my back yard. Yeah, albeit Howler monkeys so they make a lot of noise in the morning, but I’m so mesmerized by these guys I couldn’t care less about the Jungle Book taking place next to my ear at 6 am. I ran out to the balcony this morning at the first declaration of their presence and looked directly into the jungle for five minutes. Started to get the monkey equivalent of deer fever, just thinking any branch movement or tree blown from the wind was a primate getting his Oo-Ee, Oo-Ah-ah, Bing-Bang, Walla-Walla-Bing-Bang on.

I could go on and on. The beautiful beaches like Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman talked about in Shawshank, the weather that would melt the entire city of Oneonta down in 5 minutes. Oh, and apparently TOM FAWKIN BRADY and his angel of a wife have a house here.  Do you need another stamp of approval? The greatest living American and his family staked a claim to this jewel.

If I must try and list the negatives here, I guess it would be:

1. Lots of horse manure on the self-serving trails the owner of the house cut out in the jungle. Having to watch where I’m walking as opposed to strolling around aimlessly is a bitch.

2. Gotta watch out for sting rays on the ocean floor when swimming. They want retribution for all the times I pulled their tails as a little kid at the Riverhead aquarium.

3. Sometimes little insects make their way into your living quarters. But this only really is an issue if you’re also afraid of your own shadow, sleep with a night light, check under your bed for monsters etc.

4.  People sometimes get mauled by velociraptors  Jurassic Park isn’t actually real.

 

So that’s about it. Granted, me gassing this place up and saying it’s the greatest place ever needs some context: I’ve been in the United States and here. So I’ve been in a place that is constantly feuding with someone (usually itself) and I’ve been in a place that is seemingly tranquil, beautiful and fears the thought of ISIS as much as they fear a blizzard. But I watch enough fear-mongering CNN to know that every other place in the world is in utter turmoil compared to this gem of a land. When I cash in my karmic voucher today and win that $1.4 billion lottery ticket, I’m buying land here and you will never see or hear from me again. This blog is me just hedging my bets in case I haven’t exactly been Mother Theresa lately.
P.S. Britney Spears cover band, with Hotel California sandwiched in between the opening and closing verses (Britney and the Eagles use the same chords for Hit me Baby One More Time and Hotel California, great minds think alike).

 

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