Go start a new Rome.

[KB.]

I love when people want to argue with me about illegal immigrants. I love the fact that most of those close minded, can’t see the forest for the trees, people would be bitching as soon as the price of strawberries hit twelve bucks a quart, and the cost of labor in general would sky rocket. Thing is I am a separatist as far as my political views go. I’d prefer it if we never left our own country, but I am also a walking contradiction. Say what you want to but this country would enter another depression to make the last one look like a picnic if we sent “those people” back to where they came from. If you think different you are allowed to do so, but I think you are a fool for being blind.

Don’t like my opinion? That is fine, but you ain’t lived or seen the things some of us have. Don’t like the fact that we share our nation with almost anyone who can get in? Move. I’ll take one hard working, family orientated, illegal for every ten lazy, wouldn’t sweat for thirty dollars an hour, dead beat any day of the week.

When I moved to Houston in October of 2000 I was dead broke, would have been homeless if not for Greg Petty, and I was lucky to have two great friends, Warren Neely and Craig Johnson to carry me there. That was the first time I moved out of the state, and I carried everything I owned with me. I brought it all back, and every time I have left since the luggage gets lighter and smaller. Let me tell you something October in Houston ain’t anything like October in Tennessee. It was damned hot. Merciless. I had no car, and couldn’t legally drive anyway. I needed a job and I finally found one, three miles up the road at a Sheet Metal fabrication shop. I was the only legal resident working in the place besides the owner. They paid me $5.15 an hour, which was six dollars an hour less than what I was making as a welder in Milan. I didn’t have a choice, I walked to work every day, and walked back home. I don’t particularly like to walk anywhere unless the destination involves vodka, tonic, ice cubes and pretty waitresses.

Now I said I was broke, and I was, but I had stocks that I had bought that were showing some monumental returns. I was saving them for retirement, spent them on something else, and now I smoke a lot so I don’t have to worry about retirement any more. Maybe one day I’ll get enough money to quit smoking. That or maybe I’ll find a reason, economically, to quit.

That job consisted of me taking rough pieces of sheet metal and grinding off the burrs, hitting it with a hammer to straighten it enough to run it through a press, and then smoothing it with a grinder a little more. I walked to work, did my job, fell asleep as I was running the press on occasion, and walked back home.

The dust and metal shavings were everywhere you could see it in the air. We wore masks, but the sh!t was just too thick. I would blow my nose and mixed in the blood would be little shiny pieces of fabricated steel or aluminum. I would cover a plastic cup with a paper towel to keep the dust out, but I still pissed the black mess of it all when I got home. I mean I literally pissed sheet metal and grinder dust. I blew it out of my nose. I coughed it up from my lungs in the middle of the night, and some times it would just come up from some where inside me as I spat it out onto the shop floor. That was after two weeks. Some of those guys had been there for years.

I didn’t know any of those guys names, most didn’t speak a bit of English, and it was too loud in the place to talk anyways. Lunches were short, and I usually smoked rather than ate, but I sat with them and most days someone would bring me rice and real tamales cooked in corn husks; filled with goat cheese and goat meat usually. They were great. People I couldn’t understand, and who couldn’t understand me, fed me like I was family. They did it with out any real reason to. I was just some down on his luck gringo who would only be around until he found something better. I knew how to say thanks, please, and yes sir in Spanish. I smiled and they smiled back, language is a barrier sometimes; one that needs not be crossed to communicate.

The temperature in the place was rarely less than 120 degrees. I sweated like a whore in church from six am until five in the afternoon. I drank water like a fish and could go twelve hours without needing to use the restroom. One afternoon I took a drink from my little Dixie cup and spat out the dust that managed to find its way into my mouth. It was thick and looked like some nightmarish paste used to hold together paper Mache men. One of those illegals looked at the foul sludge that had just been omitted from my gut, put his hand on my shoulder, pointed at my cup and simply said, “No mas”. He shook his head at me, frowned and held up one finger in the universal sign that meant, “Hold on”

He was not a big guy, he might have been 5’2” tall, and he had a beer belly on him, he was probably as old as I am now. He had a nice smile though, and warm eyes. He walked outside and when he came back to the shop he had this mug, a BP mug, 44 ounces. It was still in the plastic. He took the mug out, washed it in a sink and went to the cooler to fill it with ice water. He brought it back and pointed to the top and showed my through motions to keep it closed. Then he smiled again, and went back to work. I started getting rides home from work offered to me that day. I still walked to work, but at least I didn’t have to journey home on foot after an eleven hour shift any more.

Those folks had no reason to help me the way they did; they didn’t have to feed me, give me smokes, and bring me diet drinks when one would go to the store. They didn’t have to drive me home, and invite me to their homes for beer. They did though. That man with those little brown eyes and the great smile didn’t have to give me that mug. He did anyway.

Some folks, great historians, say that Rome’s final demise came about when they finally let the Germanic barbarian tribes enter into their city. I figure it had a lot more to do with the corrupt government officials, the fat cats who never went to war, but who would gladly send their young out to conquer the less civilized lands. I figure it was an implosion rather than an explosion, and the center of it was the people who forgot about their citizens. Both natural and immigrant.

The universe, the world, the country, the state, and not even the city revolve around one person, nor one race, or political view. It doesn’t revolve around male or female, straight or gay. It doesn’t turn on a solely Christian axis. It cares not what some poor excuse for talent sings on American Idol, or how many phone calls that person gets. It owes you and me not one damned thing. Take your bias and your fright of different things and go start a new Rome.

I still have that mug; I am drinking from it right now, wishing I knew the name of the man who gave it to me.

KB



“Society exists only as a mental concept; in the real world there are only individuals.”

~Oscar Wilde

[Patsy Warnick]

Interesting

Those same Illegal Immigrants fed you, gave you a ride, but yet not worthy to live here?

Patsy

[KB.]

Patsy Warnick;672155 wrote: Interesting

Those same Illegal Immigrants fed you, gave you a ride, but yet not worthy to live here?

Patsy


Who said they aren't worthy to live here? I certainly did not. When I said go start a new Rome I was referring to the folks who want those people who fed me, gave me a ride, and smiled at me, to leave and go back. As far as the language goes, I could care less myself. Like I said sometimes it is a barrier that need not be crossed to communicate; but I suppose that is why when the deaf people come into the store people always send them to me.

[Patsy Warnick]

KB

so you back the Illegal Immigrants, and enjoy the debate.

Patsy

[KB.]

Patsy Warnick;672159 wrote: KB

so you back the Illegal Immigrants, and enjoy the debate.

Patsy


I back anyone trying to make a better life for themselves. There is nothing to debate as far as I am concerned. I am an opinionated man, and proud of it.

[Patsy Warnick]

NO doubt in my mind..

Nothing wrong with being out spoken.

Patsy

[KB.]

I got censored, first time for everything. One place I post stories decided it wasn't fit for the group labeled as "writing". I suppose I broke a rule I never bothered to read.

[RedGlitter]

Why the heck would they reject that piece?

Sheesh.

[sunny104]

OMG! That was awesome!! :-6

I think that needs a way bigger audience. Have you considered sending it to a newspaper or magazine?? :-6

[KB.]

RedGlitter;672198 wrote: Why the heck would they reject that piece?

Sheesh.


They actually went ahead and put it up under a different section. I was my first story there that didn't get a all out 10 rating. Someone gave it a 6.5, and that meant a lot. That means someone actually read it and had their own opinion.

[Patsy Warnick]

KB

you have a talent for writing - I enjoy reading your pieces

I give it a 8

Looking forward to your posts..

Patsy

[KB.]

Down to a 6, I love it. Glad I touched some nerves.

[KB.]

Yay! A new fan. Look at the amazing comment they left me. Stories written, haikus, people asked to have my babies, a woman asked me to marry her, all of that and I think this is my favorite.

Kevin:

You are clueless. Fortunately, you do not make up the majority in this country.

[RedGlitter]

KB.;673726 wrote: Yay! A new fan. Look at the amazing comment they left me. Stories written, haikus, people asked to have my babies, a woman asked me to marry her, all of that and I think this is my favorite.


:wah: What a moronic remark. (the remark you posted about, not the one made by you) It's not even creative. I could be wrong but I'll just bet you KB, that your new critic read the whole piece and mistook you for being against immigrants. I'd be willing to bet that's what happened. That he or she didn't even bother reading properly or else had a brain cell on vacation and missed the point.

[KB.]

People don't pay attention anymore, and I ain't going to foot the bill with explanations. Unless it is a friend. Either way, they could have been more creative or given a reason, qualified the remark. It was an opinion of mine and not one shared by everyone. Not even shared by the people I hold close. Thats alright though because we are allowed our opinions.