Wednesday, February 16

Making Up Stories...

On this cool night in Houston I see a little breeze in the trees as I look out my window, dozens of lighted windows of private lives, one of which is mine. I am reminded of this by the fact that 100 yards away a small number of Arab men have gathered. Their voices are just loud enough for me to hear. I don't speak Farsi, so I imagine them discussing recent events of the day.

I leave the blogging world for a few weeks and Egypt over throws her dictator and the Middle East is in an uproar. If I had only realized the impact I have the world I would have stopped blogging a lot sooner. I’ve always been a fan of revolutions, especially when they evolve from the masses and so count me as one who is eager to see what path these freedom fighters decided to take. Now that the good old USA is too weak to exert his influence in every corner of the globe, perhaps these countries will be free to find their own voice, apart from the influence of Western threats and bribes. For once our talking heads are forced to sit on the sidelines while the true players decided their fates. So I will refrain from offering my further opinions.

This is what we do in a big city: we make up stories about each other. I take my brown haired daughter to a crowded restaurant and she gazes into faces as we wait to be seated and because its a local eatery and not the Olive Garden there is an astonishing variety of faces, all shades, all shapes, all hairstyles from punk to post-hair. The entire city of Houston isn't like this. You get far enough away from the center and suddenly everyone looks rather similar — it's like the old joke about the little ant who was confused because all his uncles were ants — but in the center there's plenty to catch your eye. I have to remind her of the five-second rule. You can stare at anybody for five seconds but then you have to look away. Look but don't make a scene.

I have a hard time comprehending why anyone would want to be out of reach of such a rich tapestry of sights, sounds and cultures. I haven't quite wrapped my mind around preferring a McMansion that has been locked away from the world to a comfortable two bedroom surround my lights, noise and the richness of diverse and interesting neighbors.

1 comment:

The Bug said...

It's kind of sad that I've grown to prefer quiet to diversity. I wouldn't MIND having different people around, but I want them to "shhh!" Yep, I'm a cranky old person now. :)

Now Dr. M is a total people watcher. He keeps up with what's going on in the neighborhood & reports back to me.