Hi Mary, Nice examples of bigotry and discrimination, applicable to all who think they know what's best for you.
Platt On 18 Jan 2010 at 21:24, Mary wrote: > In response to Ed Abbey--Desert Solitaire, The First Morning. > > > > A parable. > > > > Hello John and Lu, > > > > I smoke. I always have. At least, I can't remember the time when I didn't. > It is a part of me, like breathing (just like it in fact), and a big part of > my "cultural heritage" if you could use such a fancy term for my > depression-era share-cropper, southern red-neck combined with Choctaw, > Cherokee, and Comanche, Southern Baptist, bible-thumping, black Irish > ancestry. I am descended, in other words, from a line of Okies, or > poor-white trash, or reservation Indians, or whatever other term you'd like > to use, all of which are derogatory, but that's ok with me. I have an 81 > year old aunt, Daddy's little sister, who can still smoke me under the > table, and that takes some doing because I smoke a lot. It is no longer, of > course, socially acceptable. > > > > The social unacceptability of smoking started in California some years ago > and has spread all the way to Texas. I think sometime around 1986 was the > last time I was able to smoke in peace at my desk. I've had lots of jobs > since then, and even put myself through college, but all this occurred while > huddling with a few other hardy smokers in the rain, or under an awning if > we were lucky, in freezing cold and suffocating heat year end and year out. > The weather is not so nice as California's anywhere else. > > > > When you do this you meet lots of people you probably wouldn't even talk to > otherwise. They're not your type, you know. You hear about people's > political beliefs, their religion, their job certainly since that's why > we're all out there in the freezing wind, their kids, their ex-husbands and > wives, and their personal tragedies. It's a real education. Smoking > outside with people that would otherwise be total strangers day after day, > at 10, noon, and 2, for as many years as you end up working at a place is a > real education as opposed to the kind you're supposed to get. > > > > What I've learned from about 30 years of doing this is that everybody has > personal pain. It doesn't matter if you are the CIO or the payroll clerk. > Smoking is a great leveler. You meet them all, every day, three times a > day. Over the years I've developed some listening skills. I can hear the > pain in somebody's voice or see it in their posture. They may be talking > about who won the Cowboy's game last night, but I hear something else. > There are a lot of different types of people, and of course, everybody's > unique, but in a lot of ways the same. They fall into categories. There > are a finite number of ways people can choose from for dealing with their > pain. Down here in the south, the safest choice is to join a church. > People who do this tend to be bright and a little overly cheerful but don't > cross them. Everybody with any sense knows that the fastest way to make an > enemy out of a church-goer is to admit that you are not. > > > > One of the guys I smoke with regularly is an Indian, from India, that is. I > work with a lot of them along with people from various places in Europe, the > Far East and everywhere else where you can get a 401b visa. They're nice > people for the most part. Nicer than us. There's a fundamental difference > between Americans and everybody else. I confided in my Indian friend one > time that I was an atheist. What a mistake! A few days later several of us > were smoking and he brought it up. He said it out loud! For him, it was a > natural, casual remark. He was totally oblivious to the damage this kind of > information in the wrong hands could do. Down here, people have lost their > jobs for less. The alarm bells started going off in my head and I was > actually scared. I wanted so much to tell him to just shut up! > Fortunately, there weren't any southern religious types in the group that > day, but it could have been worse, and I could see the warning glances in > the eyes of all the other Southerners. This is dangerous territory. Down > here you never say something like that. Them are fightin' words. It was > all my fault, of course. I should never have told him that, but he seemed > very open and accepting of such things. Problem is, it never occurred to me > that he was clueless about just how dangerous this could be as a public > statement in Texas, or Arkansas (where I grew up) or anywhere else south of > the Mason-Dixon Line - and probably a good number of places north of it too. > > > > When you live down here you quickly learn to cater to religious people. You > sort of pander like a sycophant. It's the safest way. I've been prayed > over, invited to "pack the pew" night, looked at askance, and maligned at > various times over the years enough to know it's best just to not bring it > up at all, and if you get backed into a corner, just smile sweetly and lie, > lie, lie your way out of it. Why is this so? > > > > Mary Moq_Discuss mailing list Listinfo, Unsubscribing etc. http://lists.moqtalk.org/listinfo.cgi/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org Archives: http://lists.moqtalk.org/pipermail/moq_discuss-moqtalk.org/ http://moq.org.uk/pipermail/moq_discuss_archive/
