I Never Read The Economist

I am always trying to make myself smarter. Seems like I rarely gain much ground.  For example, this week I tried to watch two highly acclaimed movies. These were;

Carol - with Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara, 

By the Sea - with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie Pitt. 

On both movies I ended up waking up in a puddle of my own drool.  

Another exercise that I have performed (to be smarter) was to attempt to read The Economist.

I'm sure everyone knows this magazine but for my Gonzales crew that I know don't know, it's a magazine that helps you understand how the world works (I think).   Anyway, don't bother because you will never get it.

If you do happen to read it though, you are supposed to be seen by other people as being most enlightened. In fact, you get automatic bonus IQ points in the minds of those other Economistas that see you reading it.  It's like a way of advertising that, (in a Thurston Howell III accent) "yes, I'm in the secret club too!". I'm surprised that you don't need a special ID in order to buy it. Like a Mensa card.

Seriously, this has got to be the most boring magazine (uh uhm, periodical) on planet earth.  But there is no doubt that there is some sort of status or mystique that I’m convinced makes people actually buy this magazine for over $10.

To be fair, I've tried several times to read The Economist.  I’ve always used a stolen copy and on every occasion I’ve ended up in full-on daydream mode before finishing a single page.  On pages that I paid close attention, I could still not understand what I’ve read. 

I am finally at the point in my life that I understand and am very comfortable with the fact that I’m a very happy simple guy.  In fact, I think being quite simple is a core reason to why I’m so happy.

Full disclosure though - one time I actually held the magazine up in front of my face to pretend that I was reading it. I can't remember where I was but it was really funny. That lasted for about 87 seconds.

So just give me the remote control for the TV a "King of Queens" marathon and I couldn't be happier!!!  
That Arthur just kills me!!

Oh and one more thing...I've never seen The Economist sold in Gonzales County.  I think there is an ordinance against it.

The Unlikely Samaritan

I’m making my through the Dubai airport;, hot, thirsty and out of breath.  I see a small bar next to my gate and hope that I can find some relief.  I empty my pockets and set my 5 dirhams on the counter (the equivalent of $1.36 USD) just hoping that I will have enough...

Three hours earlier…

I wake up in my hotel room and realize that I lied to myself after I turned off my alarm and said, “it’s okay, you will wake back up in just a few minutes”.  It’s panic time now and I know that there's only enough time to either, A) pack my stuff or, B) take a shower, but I don't have time to do both.  The choice is obvious so I throw my stuff in my bag and then go through an excruciating check out of the hotel.  I find a taxi pretty quickly, jump in and pray that I have enough money to pay when I get to the airport.

After finally getting to the counter, the agent looks at my passport and begins to type what seems like a novel into her keypad.  She finally tells me that there is no record of my ticket.  'Why does it possibly take that much typing to find out I'm not in the system!!'.  My adrenaline shoots up and I scramble to find anything that shows my booking reference number.  I finally find it, show the agent and she calls her supervisor over to help her look.  The supervisor finds the ticket and all is good (I guess they were looking under the wrong “Larry Hudson”).

I grab my stuff and rush off to the passport and security area.  After a long walk, I get there but am blocked by a young aspiring Middle East dictator who tells me that he must weigh my bag.  I know it's going to be over the limit and plead with him that they already did it up at the counter.  He grabs it, puts it on the scale and proudly points out that it is 2.5kg over the limit.  He tells me that I must check the bag.  I argue with him and tell him that I never check this bag.  He says, “Sorry, they are getting very strict about it and rules ARE rules”.  He points back to the counter and I just can't believe it.  It's obviously that this guy is new.  'Does he not know who I am and that I operate around the rules?!  The rules are for the common guy, not me!!'  That thought makes me laugh a little and lightens my mood as I walk back.

Finally getting back to the counter, get my bag checked and start back to the immigration again. As I walk past the “new guy” I’m sure to give him an double-snarky look that I'm sure will ruin the rest of his day...hahaha.

I forget all about him when I look up to see the insanely long queues at the immigration area.  I quickly do some profiling and decide on the one that has the least amount of people that will be problems.  It doesn’t take long to figure out that I’ve picked the absolute worst queue because all the other queues are moving rather quickly.  I look up to see who’s causing the hold up and see family of six surrounded by about four immigration officers.

The family includes everyone from tiny-infant-baby to grandma-in-wheelchair and everyone in between.  The brand of luggage they have is by Pakistani designer "stuff-wrapped-in-blankets-and-tied-up-with-rope".  Apparently, this is a very popular brand in Pakistan and surrounding countries.  The only thing missing from this family were their live chickens and livestock.  How did I miss this group when I was doing my profiling?  Oh and by-the-way, I know that “profiling” is not politically correct, but I do it anyway.  AND, I am correct about 99% of the time, so there!!
Oh and another by-the-way, how the hell does their baggage weigh less than 10kg?

After finally getting through immigration hell, I find myself repeating a similar situation in the security area.  Only this time, our line holder-uppers are a gypsy family.  They seemed to have been confused about the “forbidden” substances sign and thought that those were materials that you MUST pack in your bags.  I think to myself, 'why must this be the day that I’m picking the lines with all the troublemakers?'  Aye Yai Yai!!! 

I finally get through the security and am screaming through the airport to make it to my gate.  The journey includes long walks, endless down escalators, just missing the train, long wait for the next train, long wait on the train, endless up escalators and more long walks.  As I finally have my gate in sight, I notice that there are no people waiting.  As I’ve learned from experience, unless you are super early, it is not a good thing for your boarding gate to be empty.  And I’m not super early.

 

As I make my way, I realize how incredibly thirsty I am.  I haven’t had a sip of water all morning and I must get something before getting on that plane.  I forget about how late I am for my flight and look around for a place to get some water.  All the stores are packed with people and I see a small bar by my gate.  I duck into the bar, get the attention of the sleepy bar tender and ask him for some water.

As he’s putting an ice cold bottle of water in front of me, I pull out my wallet and see that it’s completely empty (oh yeah, I gave all my money to the taxi man).  I look in my pockets, find 5 dirhams and ask the bartender, “can I buy a water with this?”  He looks back at me and calmly says, “NOPE, you need 15 dirhams”.  I am literally begging him for the bottle of water as I watch him put it back in the fridge.  He does end up pouring me some tap water into a small cup.  I drink it down in one gulp, slam the glass down, thank the man very much and head off.

I’m feeling like a complete loser now as I rush to see if I’ve missed my flight.  As I’m hurrying along, a young kid catches up to me.  This kid is early 20’s, clean cut and wearing an Astros ball cap.  He is chipper and as we rush along together, the kid tells me in a thick South Texas accent, “mister, I saw what happened in there and was trying to buy a water for you but you got away too quickly”.
I instantly knew where this guy came from and how he was wired because of the way he was raised.

I was touched that I had this encounter but was not surprised by what I know of the background of this kid.   This was quite an abnormal gesture for someone to make in the Dubai airport but quite the norm from a young kid from Texas.  I was truly touched by this young man's kind gesture and thought of how proud his parents would be for what he had done.  We went along our separate ways and I ended up making my flight.

Since that time, I’ve thought many times about this very short encounter.  I think about this boys confidence, his kindness and how well he was raised.  I also thought about how he was raised is not considered that exceptional from his culture.  It is simply normal and the way it should be.  When I experience these small nuggets of human kindness, it inspires me to continue to seek opportunities to do the same.  It also confirms my faith in the fact that there is a lot of goodness in this world.