Tuesday, November 13, 2012


Happy Veterans Day to you all who served.

I don't have much to write about but I'm trying to put that whole misunderstanding about me and my landlord behind me so I'm going to post something that has irked me lately.

My crew are all good men. One is too young immature to put ego aside but no one is perfect. They are not Mexican because that would be like saying they are working with a green card and can't speak English and send money to Monterrey. None of that is true. One of them speaks less Spanish than I do but they often refer to themselves as Mexican and me as an "Anglo" or Gringo...which technically we all are. Maybe this is a cultural pride thing but they are Americans in my book. Of course they are more Mexican than I am but it's not a contest. Maybe they are 3rd generation American while I am 6th. does this matter?

One of them was telling a story of how his daughter in 1st grade was crying because a kid in her class asked, "Why do we have to go to school with a dirty Mexican?" and the kindergarten teacher allegedly answered, "I don't know."

And another said he fought his father in law at the hospital when his child was born with a purple hue because the father in law of the Anglo mother said, "Put the baby back in, he's still Mexican."

Imagine your father fighting your grandfather in the hospital on the day you are born. Obviously these are hurtful things to say but we are about 70 miles from the political boundary of Mexico and only a total idiot would think this area was always American. Culturally, it has about a 50/50 split between rodeos and mariachi bands. Quincineras and "mutton busting" are equally accepted coming of age honors. Most radio stations here are Spanish. The others play horrible anglo country songs that drive me insane with their lack of sophistication and bastardized ethics of beer and tight jeans. Awful!

I don't understand this prejudice but I do see where some of the animosity toward old Oggy comes from. I'm assumed to be prejudice. Slowly my personality has revealed that I am far from prejudiced against anything but ethical and geometric characteristics.
They ask, "Don't you think about pussy? When was the last time you got laid?"
And I say, "You know how that power strut piece we attach to the Number 1 oil tank has those wide holes...what if we...

and our arguments proceed in this manner.

"Oggy, the world isn't perfect."
"But don't you see we have the chance to make this part of the world perfect."
"You're taking too long."
"Because no one has figured out the order of operations. In the long run we're wasting time doing it your way. We need to just think about this. Did you even read the instruction manual that came with those connectors?"
"Look. Start from the beginning..."
"Come on, I want to get drunk."
"Now if I cut off the end of the u-bolt at exactly 10 threads then that will allow me to..."

It's pretty amusing since I am not in charge of anything or anybody.
That's all for now.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.