Old Articles by week 03 Mar - 09 Mar 24 Feb - 02 Mar 17 Feb - 23 Feb 10 Feb - 16 Feb 03 Feb - 09 Feb 27 Jan - 02 Feb 20 Jan - 26 Jan 13 Jan - 19 Jan 06 Jan - 12 Jan 30 Dec - 05 Jan 23 Dec - 29 Dec 16 Dec - 22 Dec 09 Dec - 15 Dec 02 Dec - 08 Dec 25 Nov - 01 Dec 18 Nov - 24 Nov 11 Nov - 17 Nov 04 Nov - 10 Nov My comments are my opinions. Links are my choice, but do not necessarily reflect my opinion. I often link to articles, sites and blogs with which I disagree. I try to look at all sides, but the fact that I'm human makes it impossible for me to view anything completely objectively. | Sunday, 03 MarUnderstanding America [permalink]My next door neighbor is barbecuing chicken. It smells sublime. I have an urge to go ask if there's a spare piece. If I did so, I'd probably get one. It would be a bit spicy... the husband (cooking in the American tradition of who does the 'outdoor' cooking) next door is originally from Mexico. His English isn't the best, but he's an American now. My neighbor on the other side plays the most beautiful Spanish Classical guitar I've ever heard -- just sitting out on his porch picking away. He doesn't speak great English either; he's originally from Cuba. He's an American too. I went to a local flea market the other day. I needed a pair of cheap sunglasses -- and got them (I need cheap ones because I tend to sit on sunglasses.). While I was there, I decided to wander a bit. Americans like to window shop, even when we aren't buying. The market was once mostly people selling used items. It's only open Friday through Sunday. Three days. It's now rather like a mall. There are more stores selling new items than those selling used. It's still cheaper than the normal store; the various vendors only sell three days a week, but the booths are very much cheaper than a regular storefront. The entrepreneurs there will bargain -- something most 'real' stores won't do. That's American too. The market has a lot of booths selling food. I passed German, French, Italian, Chinese, Mexican, and a place that sold NY-style pretzels and hotdogs. I didn't walk the whole market -- it's too big -- you can't get it in just one visit. Just like America. I checked out a booth selling hot sauces. In the slot for the very hottest sat bottles labeled "911 Revenge". Even in retail we don't forget. More Americana. I stopped by a 'used and rare' bookseller who trades with other booksellers worldwide, just to see if he'd got anything new from overseas. He had no new stuff this time, but we had a pleasant chat about some non-US authors. I suppose someone somewhere might care that he's black. I don't. He's American. I've often tried to define America to friends abroad who have never been here. "What is it like?", they ask. Good question. I've never been able to answer that. America is like everywhere else -- but not really. It's like nowhere else -- but not exactly. I'm giving up. America can't be explained. It can't be "got" by a visitor. It has to be lived in and lived with. It's a scent in the air, a shuttle-trail in the sky, a strut in the walk, a feeling in the heart, a lift of the chin and a bow of the head. It's not always good, and it's not always bad. It is what it is... but I can't describe it. I can just barely understand it. It's no wonder the rest of the world doesn't get us. Blogging blogging [permalink]
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