Modes of Transport How shall we be define'd? By our modes of transport? Trek mountain bike? Schwin townie? Hiking shoes? (Pray they are not Nike!) Shiny, aluminum-clad "BART" train? Rumbledown NY subway car? '66 Chevy pickup? By the amounts of time spent in each? How shall we be define'd? By clothing? GAP? Bannana Republic? Armani? Value Village? By our homes? Rent? Own? Cardboard box? Ah! Income! surely there's the rub -- our dollars shall put us into boxes where we are all alike. But mine come from my brain, and his from his muscles, and yours from your trust fund. How shall we be define'd? By books I've read, books I've liked, books I've burned? So you have read the Bible ten times over. But will you tell me that you sneak a copy of Yank home under your coat each week? When you picked up a folded copy of the People's Daily World, that commie/labor rag, and read it on the train, did it change you? Does TV Guide count as reading material? Does TV undo what you've read? Are we defined by what we don't do? I don't watch TV, she doesn't read books, he doesn't shop at Blockbuster, and you don't go to peace rallies. And we all pretend we don't go to Starbucks, but secretly, we all do, at some point. How shall we be define'd? By what is important to us? But what we think is important to us, until we are pressed, and then admit it wasn't that important after all, is not as important as spending time with people before they disappear from our lives. By opinions we have? By opinions we think will make us respectable, revered, funny, sexy? Ah! By sex appeal! Surely this is universal. But geeks are sexy now, and they weren't before. And somewhere, in the deep dark reaches of the undisclosed location, there is SOMEONE who thinks Dick Cheney is sexy. By our plans for world domination? world destruction? world salvation? Or our plans to simply avoid getting parking tickets from streetsweeping on alternate Mondays and Fridays and the third Wednesday of the month? How shall we be define'd? By sexual choice? I loved a boy once, does that make me gay? Or that I've kissed the boys and made them cry, too? How many times sleeping with women until I'm eligible to be straight again? Actually, I prefer to sit home alone in front of the fire with my dog. Does that make me anti-social? Single white male, distains SUV's, loves Trek bicycles, seeks the Budha on alternate Thursdays, and parks '66 Chevy pickup under the freeway on third Wednesdays of the month, seeks kindred spirit for Budha seeking, TV avoidance, Starbucks picketting, maybe more. |