Back in the States-Too Many Rules
Legislation is on the table to make Pepsi and Coca-Cola illegal in San Francisco but I can conceal a weapon in Arizona with no firearms training.The tragedy that has been and continues to unfold here in America is outright laughable. The land of the free no longer is the land of the free and George Orwell was right, unfortunately. It’s more like the land of the ridiculously spoiled, uptight and can’t accept that bad things happen sometimes…doesn’t mean you make a lame ass rule about it, sue someone over it or even worse…write a song about it.
One of my favorite things about living in Central America is catching glimpses of little kids sitting on the gas tank of a motorcycle with either their mom, their dad, a cousin, friend, grandpa or whoever…just going where they need to go…nothing but smiles. Shit sometimes you catch a guy riding, a little girl on the gas tank, the boy behind the guy riding and then the girlfriend or mother of probably just one of those two kids sitting on the fender and all FOUR of them carrying a pink plastic bag of food from the local mercado…bouncing down a rutted out, mud fest road….bottoming out….the kids with the biggest smiles… I love that shit.
It’s fucking beautiful…and just how it’s suppose to be.
It’s LIFE in Central America. There isn’t anyone fighting to make it illegal to do that or trying to implicate parents for endangering their child or trying to control others because their lame ass fell down once and they can’t handle taking the responsibility for the mistake they made.
I love that stuff man..It’s freedom. Witnessing the smiles of those kids sitting on the gas tanks with even their Mother riding that motorcycle, living free. Little kids on the gas tanks of motorcycles without helmets, pick-up trucks loaded with fifteen people hanging off of them running down rutted out dirt roads that could surely bounce someone out like you did when you hopped on your neighbors trampoline at age eleven and me, I just love hanging off the back of the shuttle on one foot, surely my foot about to slip off from all the salt water dripping down my legs from the morning surf sesh, hanging on to the roll bar and enjoying the care free bliss of transportation through the jungle just how it should be…no rules, no one telling you to put a helmet on…no one worried about liability…you just make sure you don’t fall off and if you do…oh well. You get a little scraped up, you laugh; shit happens.
Rules, rules rules…their everywhere here. Don’t do this, can’t do that. Everyone is so fucking uptight and insecure with their own choices they want to control everyone elses? Is that what it is? I was told it was illegal to wear my flip flops at the gym. Uh-yeah…rules everywhere.
Yeah, being back is interesting for sure. The good news is I’m not in culture shock like I anticipated…yet. I think it’s because I know I don’t have to live it anymore. It’s everyone else’s issue…I don’t feel like I need to change it or control it or do all the things everyone else is doing. As I have come to this place or time in my life where I have no desire for everyone else to approve of them or better yet, try to persuade them to agree. Whatever…as long as I don’t have to follow your lame rules, I’m cool.
Of course, until their rules infiltrates and affects me. I just learned I am goign to have to pay a fine when I file federal taxes next year because I DON”T have medical insurance? Dude, Obama… what’s up man? I voted for you.
Fuck rules…
Related posts: