One couple, about to be married, shared with us all their disagreements as we shared a rented open-air Jeep for the day. My purpose, other than "turn here, turn there, watch out for the donkey, how can seagulls do that when they're flying?" was to change the subject for our company in the back.

Much to my wife's chagrin, I drove into a small fishing village many miles out of town and began to converse with the children playing on the street. We played catch, threw a little dice, (the kids were playing craps), and generally interacted. My three amigos nervously stayed in the Jeep, fully expecting a gang to come and rob us. My suggestion to lock the doors drew a trio of disgusted stares. I thanked the kids for the fun, gave them each enough pesos for a pop and beetled off to the safe confines of the big city.

In addition to soaking up the postcard Puerto Vallarta, I had decided to try and slip in a few non-scheduled functions. My group was quite conservative, but accepted the opportunity to be a little adventurous.

Have you ever wondered what it is like to eat where the locals go on their nights out? I like the Hard Rock Cafes and Planet Hollywoods as much as the next person, but Paco and I agreed it was time to go behind the main streets of Puerto Vallarta, and so what if he's a close friend of the family and may get a peso or two for the reference?

This was like walking into somebody's home; in fact it was just that. "Zoning? We don't need no stinking zoning" was the first quotation that came to mind as we paraded up the walkway and into this modest abode.

The whole family greeted us, then led us upstairs to the roof, where we were to begin our exclusive meal. My eye caught two youngsters, excitingly playing a video game on TV, as the group squeaked up the stairs. By our standards, the game they were playing would be the 1977 Plymouth station wagon of the video game crowd, but it was their first, sent to them by a wealthy uncle in Mexico City. My son had mastered this game many years ago, and as luck would have it he also taught me a few tricks to advance levels. After a brief introduction I was invited to sit in and play.

A few months earlier I had the daunting task of taking Spanish lessons at the college from a former University Spanish Professor in Bogota, Columbia. Her command of the Spanish language was flawless and proper, and we'd be taught the correct way to execute the language. In fact, during a few struggling lessons she remarked that I indeed was "executing" the language. The class laughed in agreement.

Tonight though, the kids thought I was very polite and proper, and they even asked if I was a teacher! After the tears of laughter cleared from my eyes we continued playing. I explained to them that I am a radio announcer and that I play music and talk on the radio. Well, now I'm their best friend.

"Señor, your wife has asked me to tell you to come upstairs and be sociable." Oh, right, the group...

I went upstairs, and along with the others enjoyed a very tasty and honorably served dining experience. So let's go through what constitutes a great vacation dining experience for our group: an excellent meal, check; traditional background music, check; a nice view to compliment our dining experience, umm, nope.

We were on the roof of a building in a modest residential neighborhood, so our surroundings consisted of a bird's-eye view of the neighbors' backyards. But you know, as far as I was concerned it was a privileged view. I was treated to see how ordinary Mexican people functioned in the privacy of their own backyards. It wasn't pretty by our standards, and maybe not even by theirs. But it's all they knew.

Then I caught one of my newfound friends cautiously peeking around the corner. You see, in this scenario kids are almost nocturnal creatures, set only to appear after all have left to clean and contribute their part to the family dynamics.

Nervously the kid motioned me to come over. So I excused myself, while my group became more and more appreciative of the ambiance as the margaritas flowed. "Look at that lady down there, she's outside washing her clothes with a scrub-board. My grandmother used to do that, I have pictures," one of our group observed.

So now I find myself downstairs with my TV buddies, explaining once again how to advance to another level. They apologize for the intrusion, knowing full well that they would be in big trouble if their parents found out. Quickly I show them the trick, explaining that I too would be in big trouble if my wife caught me down here again as well. Kids' laughter is so infectious.

I give them both a 10-peso tip in advance of their clean-up duties. I know they'll quickly turn it over to their parents; that's what Mexican children do. I would go back there in a heartbeat.

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