Occasionally traveling makes me want to croak the entire human race in one big shitwind. It’s being in an airport and being sandwiched between the corporation that treats you like a piece of meat and the people in line who treat the lowest rung employees of that corporation like shit, even though they are caught up in the machine just like we are. It’s just a passing feeling mind you. It’s like one of those spring rains that comes in out of nowhere when the sky is still sunny and leaves just as quick. It’s the chemistry of the body taking over for the consciousness of the mind.
Sometimes I like being in a foreign country where I can’t understand anyone. I can imagine camaraderie, joy, and peace being debated around me, even though I am sure people are talking about largely the same things people talk about everywhere, to a greater or lesser extent. Maybe their not saying things as stupid as “drill baby, drill” or “‘Merica”, but I’m sure that violence and avarice have their place.
Despite these musings, once I am home for an hour or two with my dog and a good meal in me, I know that my feelings of hope for planet earth will return.
Today it was the cockroach hipster in line with me, making jibes at the middle aged woman trying her hardest to sort things out, that finally broke me. It wasn’t her fault there was bad weather and that U.S. air travel has become a joke.
Hipsters: Just another group of followers wearing costumes to belong. They just happen to wear skinny jeans and goofy looking mustaches instead of business suits and ties. They may think that they are superior and individualistic, but they are wearing their version of a McDonald’s outfit all the same.