Thursday, Sept. 21, 2006
We All Scream for Ice Cream
It was a chocolate ice cream night. It was actually a chocolate ice cream with caramel syrup and walnuts night, but we were out of walnuts and caramel syrup, darn it.
After toodling cross-country at o'dark thirty this morning (yes, Smed, I
stole lifted borrowed one of your favorite phrases) to take WildRosie to the airport, sneaking home just in time for a 45-minute nap before I had to get up for work, I was braced for a day of insanity capped by a yawn-fest.
I wasn't disappointed, though it was a relatively good day of insanity, at least, and I managed to restrict most of my yawning to when I was in the truck (which was a lot today.)
Work was... well, work. But I accomplished a bunch, made a little money, and had one hellaciously good (and equally hellaciously late) lunch, enough on both counts that when I got home from work I passed on dinner and went straight for dessert.
The chocolate ice cream has been sitting in the freezer for several days and this is only the second time I cracked open the container. In the interim, it had mysteriously reduced in volume by about 3/4. For some reason that made me giggle - probably the side effect of sleep deprivation coupled with an overdose of a burrito enchilada style and big sides of sour cream and guacamole. Ahhh... but the chocolate was just the right touch, at just the right moment.
Well-timed chocolate does wonders, doesn't it?
It's still warm daytime but at night and early mornings it's definitely growing cooler. Another month or so and we'll be talking genuinely chilly. One of the forecasters at the National Weather Service once told me that the last two weeks of October consistently show the greatest temperature changes of the year. I thought maybe there would be a snow here now and then due to the elevation. I asked someone the other day and was told while it's not out of the question, it's not likely to drop below the tops of the nearby mountains, and if it does, it's not going to be enough to make an indecent snowman.
This morning while I was driving to work, I passed a Hispanic couple sitting on the side of the road, out in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't a vehicle in sight (other than those of us driving the road) and they were sitting on backpacks. It's not exactly "walking distance" to the border as I calculate walking distance, but I'm still guessing that was their origin. Basically there's nothing else out there at all, and the backpacks were more than a little out of place with the way they were dressed.
Maybe I'm guilty of racial profiling but gee... What would YOU think in that instance?
Tonight our topic of dinner conversation was the whole illegal alien situation. The government proposes to build a wall along the entire line where Mexico meets the US. The dollar figure cited was $2 billion (which frankly sounds low to me.) If it's a wall comparable to the one that now marks the border in some places - one that's maybe two feet high and only a single strand of wire stretched between a couple of metal posts - pointless doesn't even begin to describe it. If it's a 20-foot reinforced, razor-wire-topped monster, we get shades of the Berlin Wall.
I had someone send me this in email and it struck some nerves:
Recently large demonstrations have taken place across the country protesting the fact that Congress is finally addressing the issue of illegal immigration.
Certain people are angry that the US might protect its own borders, might make it harder to sneak into this country and, once here, to stay indefinitely. Let me see if I correctly understand the thinking behind these protests.
Let's say I break into your house...
Let's say that when you discover me in your house, you insist that I leave. But I say, "I've made all the beds and washed the dishes and did the laundry and swept the floors; I've done all the things you don't like to do. I'm hard-working and honest (except for when I broke into your house.)'
"According to the protesters, not only must you let me stay, you must add me to your family's insurance plan, educate my kids, and provide other benefits to me and to my family (my husband will do your yard work because he too is hard-working and honest, except for that breaking-in part). If you try to call the police or force me out, I will call my friends who will picket your house carrying signs that proclaim my right to be there.'
"It's only fair, after all, because you have a nicer house than I do, and I'm just trying to better myself. I'm a hard-working and honest, person, except for ... well, you know.'
"And what a deal it is for me!! I live in your house, contributing only a fraction of the cost of my keep, and there is nothing you can do about it without being accused of selfishness, prejudice and being an anti-housebreaker. Oh yeah, I want you to learn my language so you can communicate with me."
Where do we draw the line? There's an online game where you shoot the illegals trying to run across the border, including pregnant women and children. There unquestionably is xenophobia hung out on display there.
But there are other frightening issues, including increased and increasingly violent crime; a neighboring nation in which 10 percent of their total citizenship lives in the next country; and the unwillingness of the illegal sector to become American. A lot of these folks, whether Hispanic or Asian or Middle Eastern, want the US to convert to their way of life. That's not immigration, it's invasion.
I have nothing against the Hispanic Race - nor Asian, black, or purple with green dots. I could care less about color. I do, however, resent and repel all invaders.
Unless they bring me chocolate ice cream, which I consider the perfect negotiating tool. And tonight you're in luck; I've got ice cream and need caramel syrup and walnuts. Any takers?
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )