Hola muchachos! I've just returned from a fabulous honeymoon in Mexico, and can I just tell you how much I love fresh ceviche? Ohmygod. It's a little bit of heaven, I tell ya.

Know what else was blissful? Spending over a week being completely ignorant of the news. My new husband (omg husband!) and I lounged in the sun, and downed frothy pina coladas + shots of tequila, all the while purposefully avoiding newspapers, televisions, and the Internet news sites, and remaining completely out of touch with the happenings in the world.

Of course, now it's time to write something insightful for my friends at Music for America, and I am completely clueless. I asked my Political Best Bud Lorenzo for a potential topic idea and the conversation went something like this:

Me: "What's been going on in the world that I could write about for Music for America?
PBBL: "Why don't you write about the Italian journalist who was kidnapped and how the American troops opened fire on her as she was being liberated?"
Me: Huh?

Clearly, ignorance is bliss, but it has its pitfalls once you return to reality.

But while we're on the topic of ignorance, I should mention that there was an election in the state of Nayarit, Mexico during our stay. As soon my fella and I hopped in the cab from the airport, political signs chased up and down the highway and throughout the rustic town where we stayed. Signs were taped to the storefronts and stickers were affixed to the insides of beaten-up pickup trucks. Ney! Salvadora! That other guy! Foreign names and, somewhat alarmingly, unknown faces followed us around our honeymoon, smilingly entreating us for a vote we could not give.

{Aside to readers: be thankful that the U.S. hasn't adopted the practice of plastering the candidates' grinning faces to their political posters. It's really creepy. Imagine if we had to see Dubya's smirking monkey face on all those bumper stickers… *shudder*.}

Elections occurred on the Sunday we spent in Sayulita. While we ate breakfast, we watched the locals fill the town center in what we were told were overwhelming numbers, queueing in the sun to make their selection from the sea of faces. From what I could glean, it seemed to be a primary election for the "PRI" party. Whatever that means, whatever they stand for. No me importa. I ate my huevos rancheros and watched with a light heart. After the agony of last November, it was such a relief to actually NOT participate – to observe their enthusiasm and vehemence dispassionately, as an onlooker. "Isn't it refreshing?" I thought to myself. "No matter what they decide, this election won't impact my life."

I sat in the café, just watching those voters. I contemplated whether any of the unfamiliar candidates peering out from the posters were as inarticulate, narrow-minded, and offensive as the winner of our last election. I wondered if any of those folks in line would have their hearts break as mine did last November once the results were announced. I smiled to myself, happy not to worry about politics, content to simply enjoy my vacation for a few days more. I turned to order my first pina colada of the day (hey, it was approaching noon, and it does contain juice), and had a conversation that went something like this:

Waitress: "No alcohol today."
Me: "Oh {crestfallen}. Is that because it's Sunday?"
Waitress: "Nope, because of the elections. It's dry here today because they don't want the banditos to shoot each other once the results are announced."

Ack! Que lastima! I guess it goes to show – even though we might be ignorant about the politics involved, we all feel the ripple of all elections….

{PS ~ Special huge thanks to the fabulous Lisa Wood for doing such a fabulous job with A Rush and a Push during my two week absence. And – it's so good to be home!}

{This article originally appeared in igDana's weekly Music for America column "A Rush and a Push." Check out the column and feel free to comment on their message boards here.