Lately I've been doing a little experiment. Not for money or any actual scientific data, just curiosity. After my year in New Zealand I've contracted a nameless rare disease which renders me incapable of calling people anything else except "Bro." Pushing myself past the borders of the small island nation at the bottom of the world, I have to ask myself: How will different authority figures around the world respond when called, or referred to as "Bro"?
Note: United States of America Border Security Guards do not like being called "Bro."
Altercation: Small heated debate in the Chicago O'Hare Airport about the safety of the country Laos. I staunchly defended the Lao-wegians and questioned the validity and factual statements of the Important Man Behind The Desk. Turns out he had never even left America and I might have stated that he had no basis whatsoever to be spouting such ridiculous twaddle, and that the people Laos are wonderful and I feel safer there than in America, Bro.
Hypothesis: He could have jailed me for days, yet I regret nothing and would do it again.
I'm always amazed when they let me back into America. Not that I should be, seeing as how I hold and shiny, blue passport and was born here. It's just that I know I'm going to screw with their system and I'm always mildly amused by the thought. So a few weeks ago I sneakily waltzed back into Austin, Texas with my Bro's blazing, to surprise my family and friends. It had been over two years since I was last home so I figured I might as well make a good entrance. My secret-keeper was my stepsister Laura, who picked me up at the airport and took me home. My mother answered the door, burst into tears and tackled me on the front lawn. My stepdad Evan laughed. My brother Sam stood stunned in the middle of a restaurant but thankfully did not tackle me as he's quite a bit taller. My best friends Anja, Ruth and Brittney all screamed, and my stepmom Jasmine screamed louder. To get my dad home she told him that a tree fell on the roof and he was home quickly to find me standing in his backyard. Initially stunned like Sam, he proceeded to not let go of me for a few hours and cried tears of joy, I'm assuming for having his roof intact.
Adjusting to American life has been the real challenge here. People keep asking me what part of Canada I'm from. All my poor, unemployed friends have these shiny, flat, touch screen phones I've never seen before and there are sixteen brand new monstrosities of condos in my beloved downtown area, which I do not recall being asked permission to build. Alas, it seems Austin is growing at a rapid pace without me.
Don't worry though, the Great Spirit of Austin remains. How could it not be? The official city slogan is "Keep Austin Weird." The Omeletry still cranks out a wicked breakfast, Polvos margaritas still kick my ass and I still know every employee at the Posse East, who welcome me back with open arms and a free pitcher of the best beer in Austin. Somehow in between my reunion with Austin I've also managed to get two jobs, which is amusing at best because we all know how I dislike working. So throughout the week you can either find me waiting tables at Cuatros on 24th and San Gabriel or behind the desk at the South Austin Gym on S. Lamar. Cuatros is great because its really chilled out, I can call my boss "Bro" and waiting tables is the easiest job in the world for someone who has the conversation skills of a late-night talk show host. The gym is fun and painful because it's owned by my good friend Randy Palmer and I have started my Thai boxing training again. Which hurts.
And yes, bowing to the technological era taking the U.S. by storm, I have purchased the biggest, cheapest phone I could find. Give me a call at 512-696-2998 if you're in the Austin area. Keep in mind that I'm still getting used to the way of life here, yet refusing to adjust to it on account that it would be bad for my soul. No, I cannot access Facebook from the dinner table, I don't have a car or TV, and I have no idea who that supposedly famous guy walking by is. Although I did accidentally flip off Kanye West yesterday. As I've stated before: I regret nothing.
I'm such a crap American, Bro.
