bless they heart.

Ahhh, the life of an immigrant. It has its ups and downs, let me tell you. As such, I myself am no stranger to either the up or the down, and sometimes the ups ain't always too positive neither. Like just now, thinking about it, the first up that popped into my uncaffeinated little noggin was "not having to listen to people talk".

Now that's not very nice is it. I mean of course I'm still having to hear the actual sound of the voices a-barrelin' through my calm and peaceful inner world, but in this case I am referring to the ability to "turn off" what you might could call "passive language comprehension" for those languages that ain't my beloved Inglese.

So if that's an up, Mr. Prince of Darkness, what are the downs like praytell???

Well the downs: these are the times that try men's souls, tell you what. I had one yesterday, a time that tried my soul that is. It's summer, right? Summer means certain things where I come from. Blisteringly hot car upholstery. Lightning. Swimming pools. Bees and other unpleasant insects galore. People saying "Shheeeweee, 's it hot enough for ye?" And so forth.

I guess it's these little cultural differences that makes the immigrant experience rich and rewarding and whatnot, but yesterday I went looking for a little piece of American-style summer, MY summer, and came up dry as a bone jacket. Well of course I'm talking about CORN ON THE COB PEOPLE. When are you going to get it through your gigantic globalized heads that this is what summer is about??? Well this and watermelon. Three grocery stores I went to. ZERO EARS OF CORN I CAME BACK WITH. I was fixin to pay Yurpean prices and everything. Good god amighty c'mon y'all git with the goldang program.

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