Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Tolerance

That picture in the last post is
of Central Park's Great Lawn, in case anyone was curious.

This year marks my eighth true winter experience. Some have been unremarkable and some have been ridiculous (ie this fucking one). Even while trudging in and out of slushy, slippery subway stations, or plunging into a foot of dirty plowed snow straight out of the ambulance (surprise!), or walking across what looks like wet pavement but is actually a 6 inch deep ice bath, this year I have realized how beautiful winter can be. Perhaps I did not realize "while" I was doing any of these things...actually definitely did not, but despite them I did.

Who knew that dead and dormant earth could be so pretty? White, grey and the entire spectrum of fucking brown. I've always thought it disgusting and just something we must deal with until Spring blossoms. Maybe I'm calming as I approach elderdom, maybe my innate restlessness has been quelled, or maybe I'm FINALLY understanding how to appreciate the present.
And let me be clear: appreciating a New York Winter is no easy task for a Miami girl.

Also, I take back what I said about New Yorkers after Sandy. For anyone who didn't have the pleasure of listening to me bitch about their bitching, here you go:

Firstly, I must disclaim this by clarifying that I am NOT talking about anyone who lost homes or businesses or had to sustain months of repairs or who are still recovering. For these I feel, and them I will speak of in a moment.
People who lost power for 5 days or less and had the nerve to complain about anything fucking disgust me. You disgrace the image of the tough, resilient New Yorker. Listening to these subhumans speak in person or on the news about how neither the city nor Con Edison is doing enough for them utterly incensed me. A crazy ass natural disaster hit an enormous metropolis that had nearly no reason to expect and therefore prepare for what happened. Your problems pale in comparison to people fractions of miles away and you have the nerve to complain you have no lights. Fuck you. Fuck you a thousand times in the ass with a splintered baseball bat riddled with rusty broken off nails. Fuck you not only for being selfish, but for accidentally admitting you expect a municipality to take care of you. Actually, I'd have given credit to anyone who openly admitted that verbatim. All of you are an embarrassment. You are adults and adults in all other parts of the country and world deal with what they're given. You figure shit out and you come out on top or you die. Natural selection has worked for millions of years and we have done everything we can to prevent it.
And people in lower Manhattan: CON EDISON FUCKING EXPLODED. You had your power back in 5 days or less. Are you fucking kidding? That is some godlike shit. That is insane - insanely amazing.


So now I amend my complaint to "you're-still-all-bitches-but-only-when-it-comes-to-what-you're-not-used-to." Snow blasts an old woman in the face, ice knocks a middle-aged man in a nice suit to his knees, and a child trudges through snow half his height to a school bus. These people walk to an express bus stop, wait in the dark as sleet pelts them in the cheeks, squint and shield their eyes from blasting hot air on the bus, wait for another bus, ALL TO GO TO FUCKING WORK. You people, you people I fucking salute. You're what I heard about in books and movies. I sit on the bus and look around at the other people - smiling with their children, laughing with someone on the phone, pulling a soggy newspaper out of a coat pocket - all acting like this is fucking normal. I sit in the back and wipe my nose and look around in amazement. But when it comes to hurricanes - we've got you motherfuckers.

I guess it's all in what level of absurdity you're used to. What it amounts to is that we're all spoiled. Natural (and not-so-natural) selection is still alive and well in many parts of this world. I guess we're lucky that we can complain and it's acceptable. I guess I should accept that and remember what happens to a heart stained in anger.

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