Secret Asian Man- I Smell Greatness

I was going to offer some travel tips this week, but then I realized that I’m taking home leave and there should be lots of other things to write about. Home leave is required for us.  We have to return to the US so we don’t lose sight of how great America is.  If one is away for too long, one may lose sight of that.

So, we landed this week amid the news explosion of asylum seekers and border crossers having children taken from their parents. This was, as I understand, supposed to be a deterrent to illegal immigration.

This has, as with most things, polarized the country, between those who wish to live in a totally lawless society and those who believe parent-separation could be an effective tool to make America great, and keep that greatness for themselves.

I mean, it’s human nature to want to get to great. If my family is being threatened or murdered and I can’t make my way in the world where I am located, I’m going to go where it’s safer or better.  It’s a huge commitment of effort, but if my life is bad enough, I’m taking the plunge. I have to believe that most of us would.

America is a great country, but there is only so much of it to spread around. There is an underlying idea that there is a limited amount of the good stuff to go around and we have to sway others from wanting to take it. We have a big carrot we have, and we need a bigger stick to beat off all the hungry mouths that want a bite.

I wonder what things would look like if we all looked at it life from a perspective of abundance rather than scarcity.

Speaking of abundance, within a day of hitting the ground, we made our first visit to Target. This is like a pilgrimage to Mecca. The angels sing in my head as the doors slide open.

I noted two disturbing items for sale that made me question America’s greatness.

The first was Green Sour-Apple Jolly Rancher flavoured Pop Tarts. Yes, Pop Tarts, the breakfast pastry. Just because one can slather Jolly Rancher Jelly between two bits of bread doesn’t mean that one must. There are some things that just shouldn’t be.

The second item was, Scratch n Sniff pre-teen girl t-shirts. I don’t think I’m over reacting  when I ask, What in Holy Hell are people thinking?. Did anyone in the legal department clear this?  Was this put through a focus group?  Didn’t this strike anyone in the design process as kind of a flipping, creepy path toward sexual assault?

I had a thought then that maybe this was a kind of conspiracy to shrink the carrot. A way to make America less attractive.  Maybe even act as a deterrent. A different way to give desirous immigrants a choice.

Stay where you are and risk your life in the streets of your home or come to America where creepy Uncle Sam may lure your kid onto the sofa with a polluted pastry and ask for a little scratch n sniff.

EEW, EEW, EEW!!

That’s my initial jet-lagged thoughts. I promise this coming week I’m looking for real greatness. Stay tuned.

S.A.M.- Lines Are For Democracy

Travelling, ever travelling, this week. On the way to Kabul.

Was waiting in line, preparing to board a plane.  The door hadn’t opened yet and the line and the line was about 70 people long. I was a third of the way back.

There had been a group of women sitting nearby. I don’t know where they were from. Let’s say they were from the planet Baru. They had been talking and twittering loudly.  When one can’t understand the tongue, it all sounds like twittering.

At one point, a Baruvian picked up her bags and walked my way. Her eye scanned the length of the line while she dropped her bags next to me. I caught her eye and then wandered my gaze back slowly toward the end of the line. She nudged her bag forward an inch or two with her foot. Still next to me, but the message was clear. She wasn’t going back there.

The doors opened and the line lurched forward. She was watching her friends, so I pulled my suitcase forward, ahead of hers, staking my claim. She kicked her bag into mine. Bump. 

With each movement, I felt a tiny bump.  Message received.

Her Baruvian friends stood up as a group and brazenly marched to the front of the line. No one seemed to bat an eye.

Bump from behind. All the way down the ramp.

Was talking with some people who remarked on how they lost a long distance bike race to someone who passed them in a car with their bike on the back. The other racer got out a mile or so before the finish and won. They lamented that some people do whatever it takes to get to the front. It was something that they’d gotten used to.

 “Lines”, they said, “are for democracy.”

I wondered if that were true or not.  I mean, sure, America is a representative democracy and we do pretty well with lines.  The British, though, are a monarchy, and they love lines.  The Germans seem very orderly and they’re democratic.  The French, home of liberty, fraternity, and equality, could use some remediation. 

I’ve thrown elbows at Greek grandmas, trying to make the last bus.  Greece is the founder of democracy.

India touts itself as the largest democracy in the world, but in a crowd, it’s chaos! 

And speaking of India, how is it that the British exported queuing to colonies, like Singapore and Hong Kong, but it didn’t take hold in India?

I grew up seeing photos of Russians in the Soviet era queuing for food at the store, but last year I had a group of Russian tourists walk through me like I was a ghost. They’ve got some democracy in ‘em now, right?

I wonder if it is more about scarcity. If there’s enough, I don’t have to fight. I can wait. I’ll get mine eventually.

I wonder if, as China or Russian gain strength, they will queue more politely?  As there is a widening income gap in the US, will we need to sharpen our elbows?

On my next leg, a group of Afghan men did the same thing even though there were stanchions set up for a queue.  Three of them moved as one, hand on the shoulder of the man in front.  Well orchestrated. Precision ditching. Shuffling ever forward. Grinning politely all the way. They could not be stopped.  

That’s okay.  I’ll guess I’ll still get my seat.