san antonio

I've survived another trip to the "alamo city," only a little scathed. I was greeted with a "welcome home" from my dad, but the words had something of an ominous effect. The unlikely Luddite has walled himself off in a house full of dusty books which he'll never read again, tied himself down with five dogs that provide him with an excuse not to change his life (a role I've come to realize that I once filled), and has stubbornly clung to eating habits that would be appropriate only for someone who didn't know when his next meal would be. Welcome home. Don't become this. Very unsettling.

I've decided that the transition to adulthood comes in unglamorous stages: the day you learn how expensive standard household items are (several HUNDRED dollars for a dresser? really? fifty for a cooler?); the day you look in your closet, find nothing that would look "appropriate" at any real job, and find that you have no idea where or how to buy "appropriate" clothing; the day you realize an unexpected pregnancy would no longer completely ruin your life; and, the day you visit home, survey the landscape, and decide to spring for a hotel room. check and mate.








My hotel, paid for by me, who can actually afford it, was a block away from the famous alamo, the pride and joy of san antonio, symbol of freedom--freedom to own slaves, that is. It's an appropriate metaphor. This town has a huge mexican population, visible everywhere, and a small white population that's very concerned with the borders. not that mexicans are quite slaves here, but people seem generally happy to pay them nothing to do their cleaning and other nasty work, while talking about them as being sub-human. freedom, indeed. This picture mostly captures the gist. Anyway, ignoring my better judgment, I thought I'd take a stroll through the shrine to freedomland, in the hopes that maybe this little historical nothing of a fact (the specificity of the freedoms sought) might make an appearance. No such luck. It's a shrine to self-righteous xenophobia now. I made a scene and got kicked out. fin.