
Originally Posted by
amish rob
Not mad. I don’t get mad too easily, despite how it seems when my tone changes.
There is nobody on the planet more in love with life and fun than me. My goal is to be the most responsible, immature person in any given setting. I embrace the childlike nature of life. I lounge about in the grass with the dog and cats, and make bad puns about everything.
Except.
There are lines. At my house, the line is when you stop being cool to everyone else. The rule here is Be Cool. I have had rival gang members in my home, at a party, and there were no problems.
Because I’m big and tough and strong and scary?
No. Because I’m Luke Skywalker.
My strength is larger than myself. I find strength in the beauty of the world around me. Even opponents, foes, and those who’s views and outlooks are simply opposed.
The point is, though, this behavior of yours is the problem. You continue to stir pots you admittedly don’t know the contents of, and imagine it’s someone else causing the ruckus.
Jokes are Jokes, and I’m great at it.
But, Go Home? Eff that Ess. Period. My grandfather came here, and despite speaking broken English, went to the Pacific Theatre, where he found a Purple Heart all studded up with bits of other hearts. Dig?
His reward? A lifetime of being called Dumb Portagee, and being mocked for his accent, told to go back where he belonged.
And, the same fate was to befall my father, and my brother and I. I very well remember being told to go back home, and thinking these kids had somehow learned I was born in LA, while my folks were visiting...
There is a line.
Peace,
Robert