Thanksgiving has come and one and it just struck me: it's been five whole years since I was last in the United States. People frequently ask me when I plan on going back to visit, and my answer is usually along the lines of; "No time soon."
Frankly, I don't have much of a desire to go back. I'll admit that I do feel a bit guilty for staying away so long. I miss my parents and sisters, but not so much that I get homesick and want to rush back and spend the Christmas holidays with them. That's the last time of year I'd want to visit. Just thinking about all my nieces and nephews ripping open gifts from Santa (and complaining when they don't get the latest iPod model) and having to put up with all the right-wing babbling from my relatives gives me the creeps. The chestnuts may be roasting but I won't be around to watch it all.
I still have not-so-fond memories of my last trip back to Florida, where my parents live. It was mid-November of 2000, and the presidential elections had been held over a week before. But absurdly - as we all know - they still hadn't finished counting the ballots in Florida. I had to wake up every morning and deal with my family complaining about how Gore wanted to "steal" the election. I just kept my mouth shut and nodded yes when my mother asked if I wanted more grits. Stealing? Somehow they seemed to have forgotten the fact that Dubya's brother was the governor of Florida.
Meanwhile, I'll probably wait a few more years before I dare to venture back to the land of SUVs and gun-toting Republicans. As John Mellancamp sang: "Ain't that America."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment