Wednesday, January 03, 2007
When I leave...
What I'm going to miss about the South and Texas is the soul and hearing older men talking with that accent. (The young guys are all generic and have no accent or stories.)
I'm going to take to NYC my Dallas Cowboys and Texas Longhorns sweatshirts. And I hope I get into arguments about them. "Representin', babee!" ;p I'm homesick already.
And I just can't seem to get the dichotomy: Someone you can talk to intellectually versus someone you can jump on and fuck. Each is mightily stimulating and each is incredibly soul-deadening when its missing. Go fucking figure.
Another thing: When I was in grad school in San Francisco in the mid-'90s, a couple of "gangstas" got on a bus I was on and didn't feel like paying their dollar fare. So the bus sat and sat and sat. A nice liberal white woman tried to hand the "gangstas" dollars, which they refused. So we sat and sat and sat. At the time, I personally wished with all my heart that these guys had tried this shit in Texas. They wouldn't have gotten away with it, 'cause some white-trash bus-riding white boy would have, deservedly, kicked their collective obnoxious gangsta ass. In that absence, all of us on the bus had to put up with these punks.
This is where my "Texas-ness" and "girliness" comes into play, missing some big butch guy to stick up for what's right. Though I suppose I can always look to Queens and the Bronx for that kind of thing! ;p