My life is confusing and in an attempt to make it a bit more complicated I'm going to try to write a little something--anything--here everyday to sort of debrief on the roof.
Today I clicked a random picture of Perth at night on myGoogle. It reminded me of Ian, a visiting professor from said isolated OZ metro who comes through the DT at Starbucks every weekday morning and orders: a GRANDE ICED COFFEE with WHOLE MILK. He says it out loud in big letters like that, reverbing all over our headsets as if we didn't understand and pissing everyone off but me. I'm not pissed for one simple reason: I doubt he's trying to piss us off. I believe he's genuinely speaking deliberately as to not be misunderstood--(thereby confusing everyone).
He told me he doesn't like America--why?--"Americans." What's wrong with American's?? I shouted back. He just laughed. I chuckled and shook my head, handing him his GRANDE ICED COFFEE WITH WHOLE MILK. I take his comment to mean that he's in love with his city and his country and every other place receives according demerits. But beneath his comment I see a sort of alliance between American fear-and-hate mongers and this Anti-American spirit brewing bold in the world and here too. Now did I just contribute to this fear-and-hate?? Anyway I find his accent endearing, and oddly without the least bit of effort I gush compassion towards this out of place, grizzly, sarcastic Aussie who's headed outback again in just a few weeks.
Why do so many American's hate America? What spirit agrees with people when the conversation starts to spiral negative about this corporate country? Why do fake hippies full of adolescent angst who can't survive on a farm find it enlightening to verbally throttle Starbucks at a Friday night poetry slam when they don't know the first thing about what it takes to run a company that large or what steps this company might be taking in the right direction?
Do we take the time to know one another anyway?
Or, annoyed and distracted, do we simply hurry back to our caves, our agendas, our nothing-place?
God?
Maybe Ian likes America a little bit now because someone cared in this drive through for coffee, a drive through conveniently placed under the loving supervision of God by this company named after Herman Melville's first mate.
7.19.2007
Test
This is a test post to try and define the colors of my blog. My blog is for me. I want to pick the colors I like. I like the roof. I like to go up to the roof and think. Maybe plant something. Water something that might be dying. Listen. You get the idea.
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