Unlike the uber-pleasant open lots of Day 6, the homes here look cold and uninviting and no one is home to sign for packages. O. wonders out loud what these people can possibly do for a living and since it’s our second day together I feel safe sharing that they spend their whole lives working and living in fear. You think? He says. I know. I say. There’s a difference in the lives of the people who live just within their means on a little lot just out of town and those who choose to live in the gated communities we’re in today. I’m generalizing of course, but everyone knows it’s status. So why do it? I can only tell you this. I spent the whole day somewhere between envy and disgust. The views, the quaint little yards, the organization, the structure—the addresses that all go in order. Contrasted by the knowledge that the land underneath is completely decimated and that all living things have been relegated decorative accessories including the hundred-year-old oaks that may have lived another century if were not for the removal of nutrient-rich soil, natural irrigation and pre-emergent chemicals that keep its offspring from replacing it. I heard a rumor once that San Antonio—known for it’s Riverwalk and densely canopied landscape—will know a time when there are no mature trees. Zero. But don’t worry, there’s a movement to plant more so you don’t have to.
Speaking of movements, I’d love to be sitting in the park smoking that hooka with you the 1% but I am beginning to feel like the .05% who got up off my ass and got a job. Not that what you’re doing isn’t very important but if you really want to make a difference – pick a cause and go volunteer. Help a kid learn how to read, deliver an old man’s lunch, read to a dying patient in a nursing home – whatever, just DO something. And guess what? People who volunteer usually get first pick when new jobs open up so get yourself out there if you really want to work and pick something you love because we don’t need any more assholes out there pretending to care.
Someone told me once that I should never be a teacher because teachers are people who teach because they can’t do. I beg to differ. In fact, who do you think DOES more to affect our personal futures? Having some type of teacher in our lives is the something we all have in common no matter what our socio-economic or ethnic background and they usually touch us in ways that change our entire lives for better or worse. Anyway, I didn’t go back to school to get that degree because I couldn’t afford it. That’s right. I didn’t spend money I didn’t have to buy something I knew I could not afford. And no my parents did not teach me that. I learned it all by myself by living in the real world and being an adult. I learned it the very FIRST time I got a credit card bill in the mail and it had double digit interest applied to the balance on which I had made only the minimum payment which means I only paid like $2 toward the principle. I paid it in full every month after that and never charged over what I could afford again.
We’re getting off track here, but much like my driver I’m going to smash down some security gates on my way in to your hood. Don’t worry, the company picks up the tab.
“They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.”