Thursday, May 07, 2020
Seven Years. You?
I was going through some papers and stumbled across my little hound's American Kennel Club registration forms. Turns out he's seven years old, going on eight. I thought he was a good bit younger than that. Time flies.
Then I realized it's been seven, going on eight years, since I was last in the United States. I went to meet an old friend, an Australian woman in Port Townsend, Washington, who breeds beagles. She had a puppy waiting for me. I bundled the pub in a crate, drove to Port Angeles and caught the last ferry to Victoria.
I used to love visiting the States, or at least the coastal states. Many times I rode my motorcycles down the Pacific Coast Highway, down into southern California - a couple of times into southern Mexico. It's such a beautiful ride. Then I sort of went off it, back when Bush/Cheney soured my affection for that country. I did one, perhaps two rides during the Obama era but I found the country had changed. A lot of Americans sure weren't happy to have a black guy in the Oval Office. Things started turning creepy.
Since Trump's inauguration I have had no interest, not so much as a tinge, in going down there. I stay in touch with my friends in Washington and Oregon by phone.
That's my deal. What about you? Do you still "cross the line"? If you still go, where and why?
I know that I may never see America again. I used to feel connected. I had relatives there. My best friend is there. I met him when I did my undergrad in Michigan back when Christ was still a lowly corporal. Even during Viet Nam I understood Americans and I liked them. But now it's like there's an invisible Berlin Wall that divides us.
How has your relationship with America changed, if at all?