Wednesday, June 4, 2008
A Man Divided
In the late Spring of 1987 I was five years old. I'd have to wait for the World Series before turning six. My visits to Boston Garden usually featured acrobats and ice capades. The people on the floor were not making millions of dollars throwing things into hoops. They were performing lutzes in over-sized Minnie Mouse costumes or making union scale shoveling elephant shit for two shows a day.
Now 21 years later I am 3000 miles across the tundra. I see the Staples Center and all it's silvery, corporate-sponsored glory every time I go off to make a little money with my own shovel. And the Forum, now paying most of its bills as a church, is within walking distance of my apartment.
So as a man of dual citizenship it is hard to choose a side. In Boston I relished my snow days and changing seasons. But I've lived in California now almost half my life. When I came to California Olajuwon was busy winning jewelry in Houston. Now they've made a statue of him.
But I'm no idiot. I'm endorsing the purple and gold. You think I want to be threatened at my local taqueria for wearing green shoes? Do you think I want to find my car upended and torched? Do you think I want to sleep outside by the hose in case fire erupts? No, no. I'll wait til the Fourth of July.