He surreptitiously flies to Buenos Aires with his pants on fire (much like someone else we'll soon mention), to see his little hottie of the Pampas. Okay, good enough reason I guess. We spent a few days there as an add-on to an Antarctica trip. Hell, we thought if it fired the libido of this South Carolina clown, maybe Paul and I could rekindle that old "two to tango" spark.
Well, this was our first full day there. Some spark. So, what does this picture of a distraught "me" with Santa in the background in downtown Buenos Aires have to do with the next picture??? 
Well, probably nothing. But they both happened within twenty-four hours of one another...the "Fruit of the Boom" bomber--- and me--- getting mugged on the streets of Buenos Aires on Christmas Eve!!!
This is us in our Delta business class cabin just before landing on December 23rd in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The red pamphlet in the seatback says "Stay Safe". What did it know that we didn't?
This is a mall next to our hotel warning about thievery and pickpockets and muggers---a serious and growing problem throughout most of Latin America, most especially Buenos Aires.
Then there's Daisy. Has nothing to do with the story but having left her behind we felt guilty and maybe God was punishing us by having a thief grab my thin gold chain with a crucifix from around my neck.
Thank God (seen here) no one was injured. Paul was absolutely worthless, as the kid took off like a damn gazelle across the street while Paul kept screaming expletives as people all around us blessed themselves, frowned at him and didn't do much about the crime that just took place in front of them but did warn us not to display jewelry on the streets of their city. Now they tell us. This was taken inside the old church in the Recoleta district.
We survived and this is the lobby of our little boutique hotel in Buenos Aires called the "Melia Recoleta". If you ever want to run the Argentine tourist gauntlet, consider this your home base. It is a nice spot in the historic Recoleta district.
Our friends Brian and Denise from Florida, whom we cruised the Antarctic with came in a day early to soothe my pain with beer and wine at one of the outdoor restaurants in the Recoleta.
This is Paul's idea of a great photo in a restaurant, holding the camera at arm's length and snapping away. He says it always makes him look ten years older than his 57 years.
And speaking of the Recoleta district, one of the big draws is this woman, Eva Duarte.
She's entombed here in the creepy, crowded Recoleta cemetery, a top tourist attraction.
Hello, Eva!
Just had to put this in because this was my grandfather's name. Has nothing to do with the story but whoever this person is he and his family are buried next to Eva.
...and Eva is buried here next to the guy with my grandfather's name. But enough of that!!
Yes, that Eva. Evita! Eva Peron who died at the young age of 32 and is still much revered by the poor in Argentina (like the kid who ripped off my necklace).
Our friend Denise who bears an uncanny resemblance to Evita, sings "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina" at the tomb. Sure, she didn't get ripped off.
And speaking of Argentina's poor, when are these Latin American countries going to pull themselves up and out of their economic despair and stop idolizing the likes of this clown? Here's a guy who really helped the cause.
You see his picture everywhere.
