Tuesday, April 25, 2017

Nashville, Now.

I only went to the Earth Day Protest because I was starving. I would normally never go to such a spectacle because I am no fool, not any more, any way. I've learned this year that if Christianity is indoctrination, so is Liberalism. This is what I have learned living in the south. I started listening to conservative talk radio ironically, but I was still listening.

It being a Saturday, and as I found out, the farmers market, the city was busy. Couples, families, children, and the majority of them, I observe, white people, frolick the quaint streets like a human dog park. I decide to go to the same breakfast place I went to the day before and, because I am a creature of routine, I order the same meal again too. I bet people think it's sad, me eating by myself, but they don't know that I'm a comedian and eating alone is part of the job. You have to be funny, but it's more important to be able to stay sane; to be able to face yourself in a hotel room for a weekend, that is the real craft.


In the restaurant, I notice a sign: This is a sanctuary restaurant, there is a seat for everyone at this table. I look around the room and, again, it is a sea of affluent looking white people. My first instinct is to mock the sign. Maybe it's because I'm a comedian or maybe it's because I'm too impressionable. For a second, I think, what do these people know-but what am I thinking, what is that thought? I remind myself that I am an immigrant, and sanctuary spaces are for people like me, anxiety ridden misanthropes, brunettes.

I leave the breakfast place, and I see that the farmers market is closing down, but I'm ok with this because I don't need anything. Maybe I should buy someone a gift? It will make me feel good to remind myself that I am, or can be, a nice person. But I don't buy anyone a gift. I just keep walking and working out a joke in my head about getting older.



I saunter toward the capitol building. The building is large and impressive and demands to be approached. I read that the city is built on an Indian burial ground and that the capitol building has burned down twice. I bet that most locals probably don't even know about the capitols sorry past, only the tourists who look into it. I wonder if places, like people, can have bad luck, and I decide yes, and add that, it's probably the places that engender people with bad luck in the first place. I take out my joke book and write this down. I'm feeling profound.

It's a beautiful day, a little windy, and I think, this place is just like Canada. Whenever Americans complain about Canada's weather, that's what I always say, I say Canada isn't so cold, it's just windy. But Canada is cold. It's cold and windy. Wind is cold. I like to defend Canada. Canada is easy to defend.

I can see with my own eyes that this is a good city, a safe city, and that it is doing cool things, like exercise and pet salons. I'm sure they have those in the south too, pet salons, but the name strikes me as ridiculous. I'm comparing the north and the south, liberals and conservatives, because even though I am a liberal, or was a liberal, I live in the south, and perform in the south, and walking through this progressive town is giving me culture shock.




I listen to the Earth Day speakers. The crowd is cheering and protesting, but everyone seems to be in total support of the cause. Who are they complaining to? They are talking to themselves. I do that sometimes. I talk to myself. I just need to say the things out loud, confirm my story, it usually happens when I'm at my healthiest or very angry.

I see a table with a man selling Socialism pamphlets. It says, Build the Left, Fight the Right, which sounds aggressive, and decidedly American, so I respect it. I ask the man how much the pamphlet costs, he says one dollar and smiles at me, and I think, this place reminds me of home. It's so nice here, but then I correct myself, but this isn't the real world, and then another thought, wow. it's weird that I think like that now.



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