Lest Ye Be Judged (Or: What I Miss About Home Already...)
Disclaimer: No one needs to point out that this entire blog entry, with its rather negative tone toward judging and judgments, is itself a judgment. Because I just pointed out my own hypocrisy for you. You're welcome. 
Normal bodies. That's what I miss most. Or...let's just say a wider range of bodies (no pun intended). Bigger and smaller. Mostly bigger. Younger and older. Mostly older. Beer bellies and grey hairs and wrinkled hands and dirty faces. Ghostly pale skin and bright red sun burns. Hair cuts that cost 10 bucks on 10 dollar Tuesdays. T-Shirt and jeans, usually with the hometown team emblazoned on it. Ballcaps worn facing forward.
Normal cars. Normal bars. Normal scars. Normal pars...in terms of wallet size? Cars with rust and bent up fenders. Cars from the 70s, 80s, 90s and today. Fewer BMWs, Porsches and hybrids. Regular cars. Just get me to work and back cars. Cars that have seen one too many winters, instead of never a winter at all. Cars that don't cut you off at every chance and try to kill you--or, to be more exact, drive as if you're an obstacle to be passed rather than a fellow human being. Cars that aren't in such a damn hurry. Bars where beer is $1.50 because anything else is just being pretentious. Bars where the home team is always on. Wallets that bulge when you hit double digits per hour. Where a poor grad student is actually doing pretty well for himself.
But why is it I notice these things so much now, two weeks back in the Golden State? Why don't I notice the fact it hasn't even gotten up to 80 degrees while at home I was sweating buckets just shooting around the tiny court in the backyard? Or the gorgeous ocean view just a ten minute walk away?
I think it is because I fear to go outside. Not because of the smoke in the air from the raging forest fires. Then what? And the only answer I can come up with is...I don't want to be seen. In this place, average isn't normal. Okay isn't cool. Getting by isn't good enough. Not having a vegetarian option available seems taboo.
I had a dream I hosted a party in California, and bought everyone my favorite pizza from home, Dicarlo's, pizza by the slize with pepperoni and of course lots of extra cheese. Isn't there a meatless option? What about those of us who dont support dairy because it enslaves cows? Oh, I don't eat pizza, don't you know how much cholesterol it has? I'll lick the sauce off, but that's it....
No offense to anyone who might answer that way, it was a dream. All symbolic representations, you see, of much more important issues. But the dream was real. That's how I feel, out here in the land where it never rains except in February and never a clap of thunder is heard. You've all become wonderfully tolerant on so many levels, and yet you've created new categories of exclusion and wonderful cliquishness. Especially you, Santa Barbara--most of all. Be any religion you want, any religion or no religion at all, so long as you worship the body and the dollar! Because what other gods are higher than these?
But isn't it all in my head? When has anyone ever said such things to me? Treated me differently? Where do I get this from? Why do I feel it? I have no good answers. I can't offer you empirical evidence (except for the bad drivers). Why do I feel this way here and not at home?
Funny thing is, while I was at home and felt rather un-judged about things of the body, I was taking better care of my body.
But now I'm just whining. Especially after I read such a wonderful e-mail tonight, about advice to embrace the world and just go out and take what comes. Maybe I should do that, judgments real or imagined be damned. I lived that way for 50 days outside the state of California. Why not here?
Normal bodies. That's what I miss most. Or...let's just say a wider range of bodies (no pun intended). Bigger and smaller. Mostly bigger. Younger and older. Mostly older. Beer bellies and grey hairs and wrinkled hands and dirty faces. Ghostly pale skin and bright red sun burns. Hair cuts that cost 10 bucks on 10 dollar Tuesdays. T-Shirt and jeans, usually with the hometown team emblazoned on it. Ballcaps worn facing forward.
Normal cars. Normal bars. Normal scars. Normal pars...in terms of wallet size? Cars with rust and bent up fenders. Cars from the 70s, 80s, 90s and today. Fewer BMWs, Porsches and hybrids. Regular cars. Just get me to work and back cars. Cars that have seen one too many winters, instead of never a winter at all. Cars that don't cut you off at every chance and try to kill you--or, to be more exact, drive as if you're an obstacle to be passed rather than a fellow human being. Cars that aren't in such a damn hurry. Bars where beer is $1.50 because anything else is just being pretentious. Bars where the home team is always on. Wallets that bulge when you hit double digits per hour. Where a poor grad student is actually doing pretty well for himself.
But why is it I notice these things so much now, two weeks back in the Golden State? Why don't I notice the fact it hasn't even gotten up to 80 degrees while at home I was sweating buckets just shooting around the tiny court in the backyard? Or the gorgeous ocean view just a ten minute walk away?
I think it is because I fear to go outside. Not because of the smoke in the air from the raging forest fires. Then what? And the only answer I can come up with is...I don't want to be seen. In this place, average isn't normal. Okay isn't cool. Getting by isn't good enough. Not having a vegetarian option available seems taboo.
I had a dream I hosted a party in California, and bought everyone my favorite pizza from home, Dicarlo's, pizza by the slize with pepperoni and of course lots of extra cheese. Isn't there a meatless option? What about those of us who dont support dairy because it enslaves cows? Oh, I don't eat pizza, don't you know how much cholesterol it has? I'll lick the sauce off, but that's it....
No offense to anyone who might answer that way, it was a dream. All symbolic representations, you see, of much more important issues. But the dream was real. That's how I feel, out here in the land where it never rains except in February and never a clap of thunder is heard. You've all become wonderfully tolerant on so many levels, and yet you've created new categories of exclusion and wonderful cliquishness. Especially you, Santa Barbara--most of all. Be any religion you want, any religion or no religion at all, so long as you worship the body and the dollar! Because what other gods are higher than these?
But isn't it all in my head? When has anyone ever said such things to me? Treated me differently? Where do I get this from? Why do I feel it? I have no good answers. I can't offer you empirical evidence (except for the bad drivers). Why do I feel this way here and not at home?
Funny thing is, while I was at home and felt rather un-judged about things of the body, I was taking better care of my body.
But now I'm just whining. Especially after I read such a wonderful e-mail tonight, about advice to embrace the world and just go out and take what comes. Maybe I should do that, judgments real or imagined be damned. I lived that way for 50 days outside the state of California. Why not here?