Monday, June 29, 2015

Do you remember?


I wish I could hold on to it. Yet I know 20 years from now this past weekend will come only in flashes. Do you remember the bright pink lining of my flower dress, the sweeping view from the rooftop party, the euphoric rainbow parade? Do you remember the unicorn trotting alongside the bare breasted girl, that picnic on the grass overlooking the ocean, my mango sticky rice popsicle? Do you remember that deal you made with the boy who is now 26?

Friday, June 26, 2015

Is Donald Trump Ignorant?



I’m sure that by now you’ve heard what Donald Trump said about Mexico and Mexicans:
“[Mexico] are sending people that have lots of problems, and they are bringing those problems to us. They are bringing drugs, and bringing crime, and their rapists.”

He claimed he would build a “great, great wall” on the Mexican-American border, and accused Mexico of “sending not the right people” to the US.

A great great wall. Sending not the right people.

Naturally when I heard all this, I disregarded it. No one takes Donald Trump seriously.

A few of my friends told me that Trump running for president would make the elections “more entertaining”. That by turning the other way I was tragically “missing out”.

His comments were called “racist tinged”. (What? They were “racist immersed”.)

As I’m sure you’ve deduced, I have gone from “uninterested” to increasingly uncomfortable with the absurd notions he is leaving behind. 

Donald Trump is a rich man living in New York. The city he owns skyscrapers in runs in large part thanks to invisible, undocumented people from Mexico. Chances are really high that the toilets he has used have been cleaned by Mexican workers.

Did you know that Mexicans who come into the United States are known for their work ethic? They start work earlier, work harder, stay later and ask for more. They leave everything they know – their country and family and everything familiar to them, including their language and religion – to risk their lives in an effort to support themselves and the people that they love.   
Don’t call it “The American Dream”. Mexican workers take the jobs no one else would take. (Example: the regular use of strong, toxic chemical cleaners to scrub blood and feces off walls in meat packaging plants). They live in fear of being deported and separated from their families. They work multiple jobs and still can’t make ends meet.

The last thing they need is for someone with a presidential campaign platform to turn them into criminals in our eyes.

Have you heard what Anthony Bourdain, the American Chef and television personality has to say about Mexican workers? “If you’re looking for a line cook who’s professional in his work habits, responsible with your food, dependable, a guy with a sense of humor, reasonably good character, and a repertoire of French and Italian standards, and who can drill out 250 meals without going mental or cutting corners too egregiously, chances are you’ll go to Carlos, your grill man. And ask him for a recommendation. Carlos will have a cousin or a brother for you.”

“The bald fact is that the entire restaurant industry in America would close down overnight, would never recover, if current immigration laws were enforced quickly and thoroughly across the board.”

Which reminds me of the satirical movie A Day without a Mexican, in which the entire state of California grinds to a halt without the labor of Mexican workers. In real life, other regions (such as Arizona) have found themselves in situations comparable to this when immigrant workers are “relocated”.

In the meantime, Donald Trump will continue to take for granted the shiny, clean windows of his golden towers. The fruit and vegetables gracing his table. The views of immaculately maintained golf courses.

I read people called Donald Trump “ignorant”, which makes me want to paraphrase Morgan Freeman. Please don’t call Donald Trump “ignorant”. It’s not that he doesn’t know. It’s that he’s an asshole.



Tuesday, June 23, 2015

Perpetrator


Me: I'm always the one running, hiding, being pursued.
Boyfriend: Is this a dream again?
Me: Yes.
Boyfriend: got it.
Me: Except lately I'm the perpetrator. I have recurring dreams that I commit murder. It's so disturbing I looked it up. I read it can mean I'm processing a loss, making a drastic change or feeling overwhelmed.
Boyfriend: Do you recognize who you kill?
Me: No.
Boyfriend: Excellent.
Boyfriend. Cutting to the chase.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Scotch and the fight between good and evil


The first time I tasted Scotch I was teething. My Dad used it to soothe my gums. 
When I was seven he taught me how to say “le mots impossible n'existe pas” because he wanted his kid to quote Napoleon. When I was ten he explained that infidelity was a requirement for the procurement of the species and that, as such, monogamy was an absurd social construct. 
He did not teach me how to ride a bicycle, drive a car or throw a ball. He never remembered my birthday and asked me the same questions over and over because he didn’t pay attention enough to retain very much of what I told him.
When I called to say Luca and I were splitting up he blurted “Call him and ask him to forgive you”.
There wasn’t anyone like my Dad. He made me feel safe and I grew up convinced that between good and evil good would always win.
Happy Father’s Day wherever you are. I remember you.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Student


A woman gets on the bus and sits next to me. Her curly hair comes down to her waist. She has purple fingernails and big rings. I compliment her on her vintage coat and she gives me a look: bewildered, then sour. She turns away and opens her book. "How to win friends and influence people."

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Clear and beautiful


The world is clear and beautiful today, its edges sharp, its colors bright. The sky is so close I feel I can touch it.

How can there not be a musical dedicated to new prescription glasses?

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Balance


Roosevelt encourages us “to know the great enthusiasms, the great devotions” to “spend ourselves in a worthy cause”. “Something is always born of excess” said Anais Nin. “Great art was born of great terrors, great loneliness, great inhibitions”. “Do not go gentle into that good night” warns Dylan Thomas. “Rage, rage against the dying of the light”.


My favorite parts of life – irrational optimism, falling in love, feeling captivated, elated, inspired – are unbalancing. Balance is not all it’s reputed to be.