Being Strange in America

Yesterday, I had one of my more normal days since we returned from Brno a year ago. 'Normal' for me here means, pretty much, waking early, and racing through the day trying to see just how much I can accomplish by bedtime. I made the beds,took Bram to his day camp, stopped by a store where I chatted with the cashier, a complete stranger, about cleansers. I listened to Spanish language tapes while I scrubbed the bathrooms, repaired the slow drain, replaced two shower heads, did 6 or 7 loads of laundry, cleaned the rugs, the porch, and the kitchen. In the afternoon,we went downtown to pay the car taxes on our 10 year old little Toyota and ate in a sidewalk cafe. Later, I cleaned the carport and driveway, pruned some shrubs, supervised the hanging of a new clothesline, and put away some of the dry clothes.

And so begins the being strange in America. The temperatures have been in the mid 30s here with about 80% humidity, and I am determined to make it through the summer without the air conditioning. And I am not using the clothes dryer, either, for most of the laundry. There is nothing wrong with our a.c unit, and our dryer is not broken. And this makes us strange. The general attitude here is that only poor (or strange) people do without these things. What makes it even more perplexing to our neighbors, who walk past our house and peer with pity on their faces into our wide open windows, is that we are choosing to live this way. Again today, we filled the clothesline with laundry and used the fans, and sweated a bit. I had coffee for breakfast, a kid meal from Burger King for lunch and rice for dinner. A little later I will have an American beer (go ahead, feel sorry for me with no pivo. I do.) and maybe, like yesterday, I will drink it without saying how much I miss Brno or complaining about how awful my beer is (though I am sure that I will think it and pity myself for the lack of my Czech friends).

I like the summer. I like the heat and the humidity and being outside, letting the outside in. Maybe I even like to sweat, though here I must be careful not to smell of sweat, since that, too, is a hallmark of the poor and of the strange. And when I was in the Czech Republic, in one of the coldest wettest winters on record, I loved the cold and the snow. This too makes me strange, at least here. Today, like yesterday, I feel as I often felt in Brno, both at home and homesick. And this, these days, is what passes for normal for me-- being strange, in America.

Why is Ray Charles here?

Why have I posted a video of Ray Charles singing "Georgia" here? "Georgia" is the official state song of, you guessed it, my beloved home state, Georgia, perhaps the only place I love more than Moravia. It was written by Stuart Gorrell and Hoagy Carmichael, but Ray Charles, a native Georgian, made it famous. It's a lovely song. Just play it, and listen while you read.
Are you surprised to learn that Georgia has a state song? Then perhaps you will also be surprised to learn that every single state in the US has its own set of state symbols which includes not only its very own song, but also distnctive flag, official seal, bird, flower, tree, and animal. Most states also have an official state fossil. Learning all of the symbols and history of one's native state is a part of every elementary school child's education. No kidding! It's part of the Official Curriculum.
We Southerners can be quite sentimental about where we come from. Here in South Carolina, natives often display an image of the state tree for SC, the Palmetto, just about every where--clothes, shoes, cars, jewelry, towels. At my childhood home in FORT VALLEY we had Cherokee roses in the yard. I have planted Carolina Jessamine because Bram is growing up here. My great-grandmother had a whole garden of Camellias, the official flower of her home state, Alabama. And I have those, too. Maybe this fall I should plant a Cherokee Rose.

Birthday / Father's Day Weekend

Saturday was Thomas's birthday, and because Bram liked being awakened by singing on his birthday, Bram and I woke Thomas by singing 'Happy Birthday' to him. The truth is that Thomas woke up when Bram and I did and had to be cajoled back into bed for a later awakening with our singing. After a breakfast of French toast with a candle on it, and a trip to the library, we had what we like to call "Video Fest". We watched "The Thief Lord" and Jurassic Park","Take the Lead," "Hitcher," "Deja Vu" at home, then "Shrek 3" at the theater. (only Shrek and Deja Vu were tolerable) Thomas opened his presents . And somewhere in here we had meals, but we can't any of us remember where or what-LOL.

On Father's Day, we wasted no time with singing, but served Thomas his coffee, and later in the afternoon, whisked him off to restaurant/family fun place, Mr Gatti's, where, in the presense of more than 70 signs--click here to test your English instructing us what to do and not to do, we ate pizza, pasta and salad between our trips to the gameroom, where Thomas got just what he asked for for his Father's Day: watching me and Bram 'hunt, shoot and kill' all manner of sea creatures and dinosaurs. Total haul for the weekend for the Birthday Boy: 1 t-shirt, custom painted by Bram, 2 design markups (1 each by Bram and me) for the cover of his next book, a 2G flash drive, pens, papers, and clipboard decorated by Bram, 8 cards (5 pop-up cards made by me and Bram), 8 books, money, and a very nice drawing of a battleship by Bram. He got books and money from his mother and brother, and money from his in-laws. I say he had quite a nice weekend, wouldn't you?

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday

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I had been thinking about writing about immigration this week, but I'm posting this instead. Hope you like it!