RETURN HOME, PART ONE

duck

Every great journey seems to end up somehow back at STARTING POINT A, and not, as you might expect, 10,000 miles away from your parents’ home with an alias and a minor criminal record. And so it was that we decided to adhere to Canadian law and board the boat that took us to happier times, times so pleasant in fact that I’m still unconvinced that we were not somehow transported to the 1940s, when America was building its Trojan Horse, the one argument and excuse that has since ended every subsequent debate for rationality.

I swear to fucking god, if I hear one more person use WWII as Contentions 1 through 3 in an Affirmative Constructive, I will employ a Sharp Object in my Cross-X. WWII is no more an excuse for current U.S. foreign policy than it is for my decision to purchase Danzka Vodka over Skyy.

Or is it?

Surprisingly, employing reductio ad absurdum applies equally to the typical family vacation.

Alex: Oh my god, are you buying vodka?
Brandon: When we were attacked 5 years ago, the terrorists assaulted what? The center of US commerce, right? If I don’t continue to spend money, then Hitler wins!
Alex: Hitler?!? Fine, but you don’t have to buy booze! The children wouldn’t mind some potato chips!
Brandon: Hitler was a vegetarian!

Remarkably, I used the Nazi argument to win several points whilst in Canada. Of course, when Naya developed diaper rash on the penultimate day of our trip, I tossed aside all my previous credibility.

/cue the ducks

Alex: Wal Mart? I thought you were against supporting the corporate greed and cheap foreign goods that ‘we’ fought so hard against at Pearl Harbor?
Brandon: YOU FORGET THE JAPANESE INTERNMENT CAMPS, COMMIE!
Alex: Nazi war crimes?
Brandon: UNFAIR PROSECUTION OF INNOCENT GERMAN IMMIGRANTS!
Alex: Liberation of persecuted minorities?
Brandon: SEGREGATION OF BLACK SOLDIERS!
Alex: We’ve been walking all day! We’ll settle for free salsa and chips at Café Mexico!
Brandon: DROPPING ATOMIC BOMBS ON CIVILIANS!

Needless to say, I wasn’t always the most popular person in Canada, even amongst my ‘loved ones.’ And at this point, I would have gladly purchased mustard seed from Saddam frickin Hussein if I thought it might ease my daughter’s suffering. Sorry. Much.

* * *

It was a good trip, though, and I don’t care what you say, no story is worth telling unless it’s interrupted by a great, big emotional meltdown, precipitated by familial turmoil and resolved in heartwarming affection and reconciliation (I’M STILL WAITING, BUT STILL).

I guess what I’m trying to say is that the older I get, the more I realize the following:

1. Canadians aren’t as nice as I remembered from my childhood (apparently they’re just as likely to blare their horns at you for turning down the barrel end of a one-way street as any ugly American).
2. Booze overseas isn’t any tastier or more potent that booze at home.
3. Your loved ones are just as likely to betray your trust when you’re away as when you’re in earshot.
4. This applies to you, as well.
5. I’m a bit selfish.
6. I’m sorry for the things I say.
7. I have yet to figure things out.
8. Getting upset over the purchase of a $100 pair of sweats carries less weight when the cost of an individual Churchill Martini exceeds $10 and you drunkenly reply, ‘BUT YOU CAN’T HAVE JUST ONE.’
9. Unless you physically abuse your children, they will be remarkably candid about how “STUPID THIS WHOLE THING IS.”
10. That maturation and occasional periods of hating yourself/wanting to die are not mutually exclusive.

WHO DOESN’T LIKE A LIST?

* * *
Since this is already getting long, I’ll stop short now, upload some photos to Flickr, and post PART II tomorrow.

But first, I’ve been tagged by Romy with a MEME (YES, MEMES STILL COME HERE TO DIE).

1. One book that changed your life: No book has changed my life. But I’m holding out hope.

2. One book that you’ve read more than once: The English Patient. And I peruse it weekly.

3.One book you’d want on a desert island: Any standard college-ruled composition book. Sadly, and self-centeredly, I’ve reached a stage of my life where I would rather write than read. No offense to the multitudes of fine authors out there. But no one has ever written EXACTLY what I’m thinking. And that’s what I need at this point.

4. One book that made you laugh: Ain’t no book funnier than the first Calvin and Hobbes collection. If you think otherwise, you are wrong.

5. One book that made you cry: I cried the first time I read Catcher in the Rye because it was so bad, and I was angry I was forced to read it and it was stupid and overrated.

6. One book that you wish you had written: Catcher in the Rye

7. One book that you wish had never been written: Burning books ain’t my style.

8. One book you’re currently reading: Fun Home, A Family Tragicomic, by Alison Bechdel

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read: The Great Gatsby. I’ve read it. But I need a refresher. It’s all about the company you keep.

10. Now tag five people: Ha! I don’t normally tag people, but here goes: Arianna Huffington, Zach Braff, Dave Berry, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and Neil Gaiman. Am I bold, or what?