Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Go Down

Recently, Mr. AwesomeCool found out that he had the means to go back to school at any time. Kind of like Dorothy with her magical red ruby slippers. Thanks to his drop of Alaska Native American blood, he gets $12,000 a year at the university of his choice. That means ANY accredited university in ANY country. So we might bypass Korea and go straight to the backside of the world: Australia and New Zealand. This plan is in the very preliminary stages.
I'm annoyed because my liters of Native American blood have gotten me absolutely nothing! Nothing except, "Where are you from?" (Uh, RainyTown.) "What is your nationality?" (Um, American.) and for the extremely bold and to the point, "What are you?" (Hmmmmm.) When I tell them what they want to know, it leads to the enthralling of the Native enamored who think I'm some kind of mystical, shaman type creature who's waters run deeper than the Mariana trench. Sometimes I throw them off guard by telling them I'm a quarter Irish because usually if I fail to enthrall, I incite solidarity. Almost everybody has a great grandmother who was full blooded Cherokee which always makes them at least quarter, probably half. And then I'm the one who's supposed to get enthralled and want to bond? I'm not sure. I usually smile and nod and get away as soon as possible. Because contrary to popular belief, it isn't in the blood. It's in the way you are raised. Therefore, if you are captured by Indians and raised on the great plains, you would be much more Indian than I am, having been raised by white people in RainyTown. In fact, most of the Indians I've been around, talk a lot about the great spirit and bang their drums, but then they go eat at McDonald's and buy a six pack of Pepsi. Yeah, go ahead, thank that feedlot cow for it's 'sacrifice' and mother earth for that nourishing high fructose corn syrup. I don't think you'll get an answer.

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