Monday, February 21, 2005

Exhibitionist Exhibit Eschews Excitement

Today I was riding the bus. Route 18 to be exact. I was just minding my own business. When it happened. Again.

I must be a lucky person, because this is not the first time I have had the pleasure of witnessing a detailed unveiling of the male anatomy in a public place. Just in case there might be any confusion regarding the above statement, I am being sarcastic. I could go into great detail as to why I don't particularly want to view the typically covered nether regions of the male anatomy on the bus, but for the sake of brevity, which I do not normally possess an ounce of, I will focus on one, and only one reason as to why I find this...problematic.

But first, let me tell you what I witnessed.

So I'm sitting at the front of the bus. I am sitting in one of two rows of seats that face each other. As I said, I am minding my own business. A man enters the bus and takes the seat opposite mine. He is wearing a hooded sweatshirt, with the hood up covering his head and part of his face, sunglasses, and very short nylon running shorts. I take note of the glowing white legs and proceed to look out the window across from me.

I feel as if someone is staring at me, so I look up. Then, I see it.

Yes. It.

It is no longer enclosed in the aforementioned running shorts. It is now out, on the seat of the bus. So I did the only thing I could do.

I laughed. Loud. People looked in my direction.

I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't, but I found it amusing. Apparently this wasn't the reaction running short man wanted, because he stood up and moved closer to the front of the bus.

Now, let's get to the point. The reason that I laughed. While I certainly do not appreciate being flashed on the bus...isn't it bad enough I am on the bus to begin with people...but if you are going to be an exhibitionist, I feel strongly that you should, at the very least, have something worth exhibiting. Running short man did not.

Did I mention it appeared to be er, fully extended? Maybe I'm wrong about that. At least I hope I am, for his sake.

So here is my tip for the day. Don't expose yourself on the bus. This should be a given, but obviously it isn't. However, if you feel the need to get your exhibitionist fix while riding Metro, please take my words of wisdom to heart. Simply put, if you're going to take it out, be sure it's something to brag about.

Friday, February 11, 2005

The State of this Disillusioned Union

So can I just rant and ramble for a moment. Notice, although this appears to be a question, I have not added the proper question punctuation. This is not an oversight. Since this forum is under my soul control, I really don't need to ask permission to rant, do I. Again, note the punctuation. So let us begin. And of course by "us" I really mean me. However, as always, feel free to comment. I would enjoy a comment. However, be prepared for me to flip you shit if you are going to dish it out.

Where was I? Notice this is a proper question. Pardon the tangential nature of my meanderings, but I am, after all, a Gemini. Ah yes, ranting. Now given the state of the universe, the world, this country, state and city, my neighborhood and so on, and so forth, there is certainly a significant amount of material about which I could rant. For example, I could vent my anger at the disproportionate number of persons of color arrested, convicted, incarcerated and executed in this country, on a daily basis. The ways in which our government continues, as it always has, to spread misleading propaganda, creating a nation of fear and distrust, rather than attempting to rebuild communities that have become so fragmented due to said fear and distrust. The fact that there are human beings, in our cities, municipalities and townships, that are living in conditions identical to those in third world countries.

I could wax poetically and express my rage regarding any one of these matters, or any one of a multitude of other equally frustrating scenarios. And perhaps in a future post I will do just that. But this post is not about any of this. This post is not about the inequities, inequalities, brutalities, or apathies that exist in our time, or any other time for that matter.

I don't want you to have to think about these atrocities. I imagine you have had a long day. Perhaps a long week. And you're tired. You just want to put your feet up and turn on the television. You're tired of hearing about young men and women dying in places you can't pronounce, let alone attempt to spell accurately. You've heard far too much about the plight of the homeless. After all, you bought a copy of Real Change today, didn't you? It's okay that you don't have the energy to read it right now. And last week you dropped all of the change from your pocket into a cup on First and Jackson. Understandably, taking extreme care not to actually touch the cup, or the hand of the...was it a man or a woman? Rule number forty-two, don't make eye contact with the homeless.

I don't need to talk with you about these things, because after all, you are a card carrying member of the ACLU. You know all about racism, sexism, classism, homophobia. You know all about your rights and my rights, and his rights over there. You know, that guy standing at the far end of the street. You're a leftie, a liberal, progressive, a communist. You know all about this. You have read the Marx-Engels Reader. You have read James Baldwin. You have a gay friend.

If I seem angry, it's because I am angry. It's one of those days. You know, those days when people, who have expressed their sense of "getting it" say or do something, or many things that cause you to discover that they don't really "get it" at all. That they never actually "got it" in the first place. And every once in a while, I get tired. Not because I am perfect; I'm not. I am flawed and I recognize new flaws that appear daily. I am a constant work in progress, as are we all. But sometimes I get tired and I just need to walk away, because I cannot fight every single battle, and it appears that the reserves I called so long ago, got lost along the way and never made it here.

By the way, if you are one of the reservists that I have called so long ago, and you have not been captured, I may have to kick your ass, 'cause I've been waiting a long time. I am putting on my steel toed boots as I type. This of course slows my typing down considerably, but I feel I need to be prepared.

Nevertheless, my glass will remain half full. My sense of humor will see me through this challenging time in history, when it appears that the backlash is causing a severe backslide. The question now is, what exactly is in my half full glass?