22 August 2013

France, America, and the rubbing

I love France much in the way one loves a difficult family member. Not because you have anything in common, not because you understand each other. But if nothing else, you have fond memories together, or they’ve grown on you, and like it or not they’ve rubbed off on you.

Clinging to my roots like a child saying no for the sake of being defiant, I’ve compiled a list of ambivalently special all-American things in honor of my mother country and my foster nation.

1.      Camping, or Russian roulette with malaria

2.      Halloween, or annual fulfillment of nationwide escapist urges

3.      Walmart, or forgetting what dignity looks like

4.      Casual clothing, or wordlessly offending a Frenchman

5.      Loudness, or conversations for the whole room

6.      Guns and fireworks, or violent explosions in the name of patriotism

Resist assimilation, expatriates.