By Dan Valentine
Ensenada Backpacker. “The hostel of the city.”
Two Italian women – mid-twenties, thereabouts; both beautiful; full of life; educated – walk out of the women’s dorm room, after a night’s sleep.
They’ve been here a couple of days.
One blond, one dark-haired. They both speak several languages. Italian, German, English, Spanish. Fluently. Of course! (It’s a European thing.)
In the United States, we’re lucky to learn English.
“Where are you going today?” I asked. No need for an answer, really. It was early morning. I was making coffee.
“We don’t know yet,” said one. “It’s our last night.”
“Where are you going from here?” I asked. Just making conversation.
“South,” she said.
“Less Americans,” I quipped.
“That’s good!” she said, and meant it.
“I agree,” I said.
And they both laughed. No explanation needed. Humor is identification. And Italians, faster than others, should/can/do connect the dots.
In the eyes of the world, both north and south of the border, across the seven seas, in and around and in between, and to a growing number of citizens born and bred in the United States, we are looked upon as:
Romans in ballcaps!
Chain-store togas (“You’re gonna like what you wear”), Nike clogs.
A nation fast-galloping into its Ben-Hur phase …
Christians and others fed to the lions on “Dancing With the Stars”. Credit card money-lenders …
If Christ were to return any day soon, where do you think He’d end up?
Gitmo is a good guess. No nails but lots of water. If I remember right, Charlton Heston gave Him a much needed sip on His way to, well, you-know-where.
I, myself, think He’d be picked up as a babbling vagrant on the streets of a southern town, locked up in a prison cell at night, tending some rich cattleman’s herd during the day, a short ways from the facility, and after some twenty years – after a lawyer has proven Him innocent of all charges and collected a large fee – let go. Then, looking up to the heavens, I think He would say, “They do not know what they do. Get me the hell outta here.”
In short, deja vu all over again.
Romans in ballcaps.