As the courtiers weep, El Jefe is off for the boonies of central Texas, land of no cellphones, restaurants, cosmos, wine, TV, books, or all the other things that constitute civilization. Sort of like the song at the end of Gilligan's Island: "no phones, no lights, no motorcars...." come-on, sing it. In any case, El Jefe goes, with the Heir, to visit Heir's summer camp. SWMBO will be left to her own devices.
El Jefe hastens to assure the world media, his goombas, his capos, mistresses, other henchmen and hangers on, that he will indeed return, no doubt to much rejoicing. But till next week, adios.