Having moved from Orange County, CA to Chicago, IL has been perhaps the single most extraordinary thing to occur to me. Extraordinary coldness, extraordinary geese poop, and extraordinary people (in no particular order). I'm beginning to convince myself that America is really meant to be seen as a multiplicity of small nations, each with its own specific language, culture, and outward appearance.
A typical Sunday afternoon: I go to my local Trader Joes' after Church. As I exit the car, I step on goose poop. I go into the store and find sanctuary in familiar products. I go to the cashier, she asks me if I want a "bei-ah-g." I say, "What?" She says, "bei-ah-g." I say, "Why... are you the way you are?" I leave the store, but before I get into the car, I'll probably step in geese poop yet again.
In the midst of a innate desire to complain to God and declare my utmost hatred of this foriegn place, I find myself likened unto that little blueberry girl from Willy Wonka's Factory of Inevitable Doom for Selfish Children. These things are different, but I'm discovering that I'm the one who gets to put value on them: the ridiculous accents (you can drive north and arrive within an hour to Ken-noh-sha), the extraordinary people, and yes, even the goose poop. By value, I don't mean a sort of objective valuability...but a subjective sort. A subjective sort that only you can place (oh the irony).
We all know what happened to the blueberry girl can also easily happen to us. I happen to like my beige skin tone and non-spherical figure the way it is, thank you very much.
3 comments:
so...are you in England or Chicago? This is confusing.
Chi-CA-go. :-P Well, I hope you enjoy our fine city...you should explore it during Christmas time--it's just beautiful! Can't wait to see the look on your face when the first snow hits! Too bad I won't be there to see your initial reaction.
You've written a profoundly absurd post Pearson.
Glad to hear you're still doing your thang.
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