 Dusty:Starlight:Culture
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big sighs
2005-07-13 12:51 p.m. Besides being obviously upset and distressed over the London mass transit bombings, worried about the well-being of numerous friends and sad over the tremendous loss, I winced when I heard about it all, thinking of my mother's mental state about her forthcoming trip there. My mom is a brave lady, but has been concerned for months now about national security in England. I think these normal, healthy concerns are exacerbated by the fact that she is traveling alone, something friends of mine who are forty years younger than my mother are a bit afraid to do. Recently, though, my mother stopped asking about safety and security of the city, airports, and planes in general, resigning herself to saying "I guess you just have to do things, don't you. If something happens, something happens." Well something happened, and we're putting her on a plane bound for London tomorrow anyway. Because that's what you do, you go. You move on, you see what's next. It's funny the way things work out though, sometimes. My husband's parents were in for a visit last week, and while out at dinner, with my mother, we discovered that they happened to stay in the very hotel outside of Victoria station that she'll be staying at. They assured her that it's in a very safe part of London with fun shops and restaurants near by, and that the staff and rooms were just lovely. London's a big city, with many hotels. What are the chances that they happened upon the same hotel I randomly found through the LP message board and booked for my mother? This, besides a random phone call from Kim in London, who accidentally dialed my old number, getting my mother and assuring her that London is indeed the safest place to be right now, has made mum feel much better and more relaxed. After all, what we want for her is to have a great time and feel good about being out. While thinking about London's tragedy, I find myself wondering how much (if any) coverage we'll see of a massive train collision in Pakistan that killed over a hundred people - certainly sad and just as tragic. I understand we're all preoccupied with so many things: Karl Rove's betrayal, the likelihood of another terrorist attack on a Western target, Angelina Jolie's new Ethiopian baby, how much it costs to fill that darn tank up this week. But maybe the reason "they" hate "us" so much is that we totally can't be bothered, that we're so damn blasé about people who don't look enough like us, worship the same god, or listen to the same music. You know I was really going to try hard not to complain here, and to just focus on positive things. I got a "it must be hard to be you/you're too serious sometimes" speech from someone at work, you see, and now I'm feeling a bit self-conscious. The gist of her speech was that I shouldn't let things weigh on me too heavily, that I'm too young to be so "overly concerned" about things that are "out of my control". I suppose this would be good advice if, after finding out Karl Rove endangered numerous lives by leaking the name of an undercover CIA operative as "pay back" for her husband's anti-war stance and yet will evade any and all punishment, I lock myself in my bedroom with the shades drawn and murmur through the keyhole that I won't eat or drink anything until this country's integrity and logic is restored. But I didn't do that. I went out for coffee with friends, finished reading Passing by Nela Larsen, and then went down to the beach to spend some more time with my in-laws. I did not, however, stop myself from talking about this and other things that concerned/concern me. That's what we do, you see: mix discussions of political injustice with discussions of our fabulous new shoes, our nephew's newest words, what happened on Project Runway. This, still, this talking about things or thinking about things is giving me premature wrinkles, I guess, at least in the eyes of one of my colleagues. So the concern starts: am I too negative? Am I bumming people out? Am I a big fat drag? But how can you stop being you? Would you want to stop being you? What if you saw things, reacted, and then just swallowed it all in the interest of making "polite" ("feminine"?) conversation and not "troubling" anyone by saying "Man, I am SO down about O'Connor's resignation. Do you think she'll be replaced by another moderate?", even if that IS how you're feeling when some one asks, "How are you?" That's quite a slippery slope, isn't it. Trying to judge your impression on other people (whilst trying to convince yourself that you don't care what others think of you...right) vis a vis "other people's" cultural expectations of what a lovely young woman such as yourself should be talking about in "mixed company". I guess I mean this: do I really bum people out, or do I surprise people because serious things come out of my pretty mouth...sometimes? Do I get an exaggerated warning about being "too serious" because I'm not expected to be serious at all when it inconveniences other people? I wonder why no one's ever said as much to my husband, when he talks about politics or what frustrates him about the world just as much as I do? I suppose these little speeches I get from time to time might be appropriate and even thoughtful if I said "what do you mean it's a nice day? Don't you know people are starving in Cambodia?" every time instead of "Isn't it, though? I'm going to ride my bike later today!", which is much closer to my default response and m o with acquaintance-type conversation. But believe me, I really don't see anything to apologize for if I happen to say "I'm fine, thank you, but a little upset over this morning's news of _____" whenever that, too, might be appropriate. Oh look, I just worked that all out. Nice. Now I don't have to think about it too much anymore. I will say this: speech givers, no matter that their speeches are coming from places of caring and concern, can stuff their speeches right up their patoots, along with any teen-age boyfriend who tells his teen-age girlfriend "you think too much". Bleh. We know it would be much easier for everyone if we didn't think so much, but too late. Momma didn't raise no lazy fool. Oooooh so. much. to. do. We leave in mere days. Days! We shouldn't have gone to so many bbqs or birthday parties last week. But oops, there are a few more this week too. I'm bad, very bad. Procrastinating too much. I have to pick up Steve's glasses, the prescriptions for emergency cipro and malerone, and buy numerous containers and things for our trip. Can't forget the mini-maglite or extra batteries. Can't forget long johns, maps, extra-tough laces for hiking boots. Iodine tablets for water. Extra rubber bands because one always needs extra rubber bands. Have to pay all bills in advance; rent, pse&g, cell, phone, credit cards, car payment. Have to order books for women in lit class, have to send work schedule to too many people to remember off the top of my head. But flashes of those important, responsible, necessary things just get erased and washed away by this:
I just get all fluffy and dreamy and excited. can't wait. xox
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