“You have to go a long way to beat our meat.” That double entendre is courtesy of The Market Place in St George Island, FL. I read that on the back of someone’s shirt while I was waiting in the security line at the airport the other day. Either they have huevos made of titanium or they are utterly oblivious. I couldn’t help but smile and snicker when I read that.
I have rented an ample amount of cars over the past year and have learned that the consumer RARELY receives the car they actually want. They almost always stick me with some puta de la mierda coche. So, this time, they offered me a choice between the PT Cruiser (a car that I absolutely loathe) or the Toyota Prius. I reluctantly chose the Prius – honestly, I would have even selected a Chevy Malibu over a PT Cruiser. After about ten minutes of seated deliberation on how to start the car, I got a salesman to help me. Not only do you jam the entire key fob into a slot next to the wheel, but you also have to have your foot on the brake simultaneously while you press the start button. Odd. Needless to say, my 1st impression wasn’t that favorable. But, as I drove the car and started to mess around with its cool features, I started to gradually warm up to the car. Once I realized that the car was a hybrid vehicle and that I was getting 45-50 mpg, I nearly reached a vehicular climax. If I didn’t have the wherewithal to withdraw, I would’ve impregnated the hell out of that sedan. It even has a rear-view camera that turns on once you put the car in reverse. And, they have a screen seated atop the dash that displays the climate (A/C and Heating system) and the Audio system of the car – and it’s all touch screen. Once in a while I actually rent a car that I would actually consider buying – last time it was a VW Passat and this time the Toyota Prius.
As I drove the 2 1/2 hour trip from Dallas to Longview, I noticed that they have an Indian radio station in Dallas (104.9 – Radio Salaam Namaste). I think it’s the only 24/7 Indian radio station in the States. I was blown away. I listened to it up until the point I could only faintly discern an occasional dhol amidst interference and static. They played everything from Bhangra to remixes to old school songs (they even played Pehla Nasha – that my friends, is my generation’s “old school” – a friggin’ classic).
Pehla Nasha (absolutely classic)
I heard that they have a radio station like this in Atlanta, but I have yet to listen to it. But please believe, when I go back to the A, I’m gonna keep my eardrums out for it. Listening to Indian music made me reminisce on some of the better pondae (aka Indian, desi, brown, etc.) parties I went to in the past. I swear, when I hear an old school Hindi jam, it reinvigorates the love and passion I have for Indian music. To be quite frank, listening to that station made me miss being around brown folks a little. It seems that I have stretches of association and disassociation with the Indian community.
There are times when I go to a lot of events and festivities held throughout the Indian community and there are months, sometimes years when I am more ambivalent about the Indian community. I don’t know, but listening to that Indian music on the radio brought back a lot of great memories. I’ve tried very hard over the years to NOT be defined by my culture and heritage. I didn’t want to be one of those Indians whose entire world revolved around all things Indian. It isn’t as though I am or ever was ashamed of being who I am, it’s just that I’ve grown weary in the past of the ignorant mindset and segregationist attitude that has come to define many members of our community. Regardless, with all the being said, and a LOT was said, I love my brown folks and no matter what, I love who I am and where I am from. I have digressed TREMENDOUSLY, but, I guess my point is that hearing the tablas and sitars on the radio made me miss my community. I seem to have acclimated myself to facetiously chastising brown folks intermittently, but the truth is that I love my brownies – always have and always will. Now, if only they would put an Indian music channel on Pandora radio or on Sirius or XM Satellite radio. They NEED to do this.
I have put my Blackberry Pearl up for sale on Craigslist and Facebook. If anyone is interested, I will be letting it go for a non-negotiable price of $125. It is a white TMobile Blackberry Pearl which is in great conditon, save a few minor scratches on the top (not on the face or screen of the phone). I have decided that I actually enjoyed my Motorola RAZR more than I did my Pearl. The Pearl is a great phone and mine worked great, but I didn’t intend on buying the internet plan and missed the flip design of the RAZR. I guess, contrary to my irrelevant ruminations, I do give a flip. Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony.
I love girls in simple clothes. Most times when I fly, a majority of females are dressed down in sweats or hoodies – and I find it very attractive. I don’t know what it is, but there is something to be said about a girl in sweats and a hoodie. I guess if a girl can have you going ga-ga over her in some sandals and a hoodie, then imagine how mind-numbingly gorgeous she would be when she took the time to look good. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always preferred the simple look over the extravagant. Maybe in some odd way, getting with a girl who dresses down gives me an excuse to habitually resemble a haphazard hobo. Dressed down or in a sari – either of those two will get me almost every time. Honestly, how can a woman NOT look stunning in a sari? That, to quote the proverbial Hamster, is “money in the bank”. If you can wear the hell out of a sari, you might as well bring a pujari with you, because we’re exchanging vows at that very moment. I’m a sucker for saris.