Memories from TCAF keep seeping out of my brain, this being one of them. In Canada, you get the sense that America is like terrible downstairs neighbors. Like really rich, obnoxious, downstairs neighbors. Like you're just trying to read a friggin' book, and the downstairs neighbors are always partying, and screaming at each other, and occasionally shooting each other, but you can't really do anything about it because they're friends with the Landlord? Only nobody knows who the Landlords are. Nobody has ever seen them.There is something simultaneously scary and reassuring about your entire country blowing up while you are temporarily out of it.
As we were leaving Canada, we were suprised to hear on the radio that Canada also has problems. America, Problems are an industry. It is the tension industry, and there is a whole 'nother industry to calm you down.
Sometimes when I'm on a plane and look out the window, I kind of halfheartedly want to see a nuclear bomb go off in the distance.
And speaking of planes, I am going to be back home to Locust Grove, Oklahoma this weekend. In order to legitimize the tax-deductible nature of this trip, I will be doing a "meet and greet" beside the pool at the Best Western Friday at Noon.
