Adam: ""I put it down because I hate you."
(said in the theater, regarding the armrest, after Erin chose to
occupy the very same seat Adam wanted.)
How about a state that offers citizenship but not residence.
Imagine a globalized city, with actual physical resources, an economy, citizens, institutions, and cultures already in place. Now suppose that the citizens of that soverign city extended citizenship to every person on this planet, sharing all rights, laws and economies they enjoy with all. Every child, from central Wyoming to Tokyo, would guaranteed access to the laws and economy of this city. In the city, they would have to right to a fair trial. No matter where they lived, they would be guaranteed the right to participate in the markets of that city. What would not be guaranteed, however, would be the right to physically occupy space in the city. Though the freedoms offered could be described as non-corporal, their implications (access to a fair and balanced legal system, access to globe spanning markets and access to the entire world’s culture) could safeguard, elevate, and set free the souls of all people.
There are complications and downsides. This will be for next time, naturally.
After the president's speech, the anchor and the white haired man stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the people in the television studio with their arms around each other. The speech had just ended and in the wake of the twisted logic and doublespeak of our leader, these two men did something extraordinary. They began to sing.
It was a variation of our national anthem but instead of a poem about "That glorious fight," they sang instead of a fragile hope that we might deliver our selves from the grasp of fascism and empire coming from our own leaders and take back our freedom and good name in a time of madness and evil.
I found myself sitting next to my mother in front of the television and when the new words of anthem came up on the screen, karaoke style, we sang along.
In a few hours we are going to meet up with my good friend Ryan from my Zazie days.
Okay, the little side salads are here so it's time to go.
We made it from Lexington Nebraska to Logan Utah on Wednesday, leaving behind the perfect flatness of central Nebraska for Wyoming’s rolling brown hills and strangely huddled Black Angus Cattle, most of whom (like us) seemed to prefer to huddle tightly together rather than spread apart upon the vast landscape.
As we left this land of ranches, mines and oil wells behind and climbed almost imperceptibly over the mountains I was surprised and pleased to see that the wind farms that Deb and I first saw a year ago on our way back to Massachusetts have grown much larger and in one instance we saw rows of partially assembled units, sections of their cylindrical towers lying on the ground.
It was about an hour and a half drive up from Salt Lake City, winding between orange and brown cliffs looming over either side of the road, studded with solitary conifers and swiss cheese-like rounded mini caves that I imagined were inhabited by coyotes and wierdos.