Sunday, July 04, 2010

Ramble from phair

Here you go...
Ze's ramble about her French movie experience struck an unexpected cord with me. She mentioned, in passing, that American movies are fluffy when they don't need to be. But, the truth is the movies do need to be fluffy if they are going to be successful in the US. Why? The answer is forged in our Declaration of Independence; life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Like the adolescent products of overindulgent, first time parents, Americans want to have fun.

I don’t tend to think of myself as 'overly' patriotic. While I don't want to listen to anti-nationalistic venom from entitled snobs who benefit from what the US offers her citizens, nobody will ever find me waving a flag at a parade regardless of the holiday. I hate parades. I did fly a flag from the front porch until a gale blew the bracket right off the support beam. While I registered to vote under great duress from my sister three full years after my eligibility, I have dutifully voted in every election since and I even attended a public meeting once or twice. The only public meeting I ever spoke up at got me 'shh'd' by the chair woman of the board of select fools.

Politics is not pretty. And, history is its ugly step sister. There are no rose colored glasses over my eyes when I look back at how I got to where I am. My grandparents ran away from their homes to find something, anything else. They were able to build the life they wanted here and stayed. If the same opportunities were available in their own country then they would not have left. And, I wouldn't be but it is far to early in the year to get into existential rants.

But with July 4 looming, my mind has been mulling what it means to be a citizen in the US. Rightly or wrongly, we usually refer to ourselves as Americans which ignores our neighbors' to the north and south potential claim on the the title to our common continent. But, why would they want to dub themselves by such a arogant title? As the press frequently informs us, Americans are hated. The rest of the world wants our blood and crops and we deserve this animosity because of our war mongering, cushiony lifestyle, and unquenchable thirst for oil. Politicians nod and wink that it's true we are hated but swear it is unearned contempt over our blessed luck granted by God above.

I don't believe either source or the notions behind them. I also don't believe Americans are 100% good or 100% evil. As with all things, I'm a middle of the road kind of girl. Truth lies waiting to be discovered someplace in the median strip of life if we'll just slow down and looked for her crumpled, trembling carcass. I slowed down enough on Tuesday to catch a glimpse of her.

I had a 4:30 pm appointment in a town 14 miles from my home. Afternoon traffic within the 128 loop is something like torture; you can see your destination but you will not reach it in any reasonable amount of time. So, I allotted myself an extra 30 minutes and then tacked on another 30 because I thought I would stop by the shopping plaza and see how frightening the young people look this summer. Just needed a quick stop for gas first.

I stopped by a rare breed of gas station. It is an almost extinct species. They not only pump your gas but they have full garage service with towing and provide state vehicle inspections. The young man pumping the gas interrupted my iPod search with a very polite throat clearing.

"Lady," his heavily accented speech would suggest he was from Puerto Rico, "your sticker is late. Cops see and the man give you a big ticket. We do for you. Ten minutes."

I grimaced. I knew I was late with the sticker. I knew the ticket would be huge. But, I worried about how exactly I would get the Jeep inspected this year without it costing me several thousand dollars. Instead of asking a professional mechanic how to solve my problem, I just worried and drove less.

"It won't pass. I don't think it'll pass. It' has a starburst," I pointed to the windshield. "And, I haven't changed the oil since 2009."

"Let me get the boss," he reassured.

I know the boss. He got my Jeep through an delinquent inspection in 2008. But, it's a busy station. Hundreds of cars a day. Maybe thousands. He'd never remember me.

"You again? Lady, you no do this no more. You get a big ticket, then what? You gots to pay 'the man' and then pay me anyway," the boss shook his head as he walked over to the car. The man is Greek by birth. He’s short but has the personality of Zeus. "I thought I taught you last time."

"I know, I know, but the windshield and the oil and I think the brake light's busted," I babbled.

The boss and the gas pump guy waved over a third man. He was a lot older. I'd never met him before. Apparently, he was the trainee.

"What you think?" The boss ask both men as they looked at the windshield.

"Sure, it nothing," the gas pump guy said.

The older man who is from Lebanon originally shook his head. "No way. Never. Won't pass."

"Sure it will," the boss said.

"See," the gas pump guy grinned at me. "We fix you up."

I was removed from the Jeep and lead to the office. I watched through a window while the men worked and measured and talked and argued a little. The gas pump guy kept checking on me. I got the second lecture about changing the oil. Within 10 minutes, I was back in the driver's seat of my newly inspected Jeep with a valid 2010 inspection sticker stuck to the window and three very happy men telling me they were right. The old trainee switched his opinion about imminent failure at some point in the process.

"No good getting a big ticket. You come to us. We take care of our own," the boss said.

I drove away with my sticker in place knowing I too was in place. I belonged to this community of strangers all from someplace else working to make the lives we want in a place we choose to call home. And, having a little fun screwing 'the man' out of a fine while we're at it. That, my friends, is America.

Phair


Well, first I want to thank phair once again for rambling. I think it's always interesting to get insight and perspectives that are different from our own. After all...that's what makes us unique, regardless of nationality or any other tag that is put upon us.

May this day bring forward Peace, Health and Happiness for all. Perhaps not at the moment, but there is always hope for the future.

Elisa

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