Angry America
I met two friends for dinner the other day. We met at a Starbucks to decide where we wanted to eat and I arrived late. My friends were sitting at a table with two chairs so I sat at the table next to them. It wasn’t until I was getting up to leave a few minutes later that I noticed a teenage girl sitting at the table. Her boyfriend was walking up at the same time, gave me a disgusted look and said “That’s my chair!”
I walked away, amused that I never even thought it strange to sit at someone else’s table. My friends laughed and told me she was “starring daggers” at my back the entire time. First of all, everyone in America needs to calm down. I was almost assaulted at a grocery store last month for suggesting to the man in front of me in the checkout that life isn’t so difficult. He had exclaimed loudly that someone should put a bullet in his head because the cashier was a bit slow and having trouble with her scanner. Of course, irritable short men have never reacted well to my advice and even less so to smiles and suggestions that they recognize the important things in life. They also don’t like being told that you feel sorry for them.
My point is, America has become an increasingly hostile place. Maybe it’s just the area I live in, but everyone seems to take themselves way too seriously. The longer I travel the more I realize how distanced we’ve become from the basics of humanity. I suppose I should have asked the girl to sit at her table, but as long as the seat wasn’t being used I didn’t see the harm. Can we no longer share even what is not ours? Maybe I’ve changed too much over the years to relate to how people live their daily lives around me. Maybe I am the only person left in America who believes in helping the less fortunate and the concept of compromise. We have become so rich and isolated that we no longer relate to strangers and always think of ourselves and our own needs first. When you don’t have money or belongings, like many people in the countries I’ve visited, you share. Strangers eat side by side at roadside stalls and neighbors and shop owners look after the children of the neighborhood. A woman on a train in China once sat down next to me, handed me a rotten egg (quite tasty for the Chinese) and insisted that I eat it with my ramen as she was doing.
Maybe I’m finally turning into my dad, a man who enjoyed talking to the workers at Sam’s Club so much that he went every Sunday. I’d like to think that the ability to talk to strangers is not a quirk or a custom held over from the last century and the Americans are still the compassionate and interested people that fought in WWII and protested in the 1960’s. I love technology but let’s not lose our basic humanity as we rush toward the future.

Comments (8)
