It's 9/11 and Mohammed is missing. For all I know, he launched himself, like an ICBM, straight up and out of San Antonio landing in Alexandria, Egypt, his hometown.
I would miss him. He was working on becoming an american citizen.
We're cab drivers. We, and others, spend a lot of time under a tree waiting on trips.
Mohammed cracks me up. He has a great sense of humor. We were talking, once, about how hot the summer had been, and I mentioned that San Antonio is 30 degrees above the equator. Alexandria, too. I ask if it is as humid there as here.
"Yes," he said, "but we don't have air-conditioning."
"Damn," I replied, "what do you do?"
"We all get naked and jump in the sea," he said.
What's not to love?
Now, it's 9/12 and Mohammed is back. He says he's getting a lot of cold looks and some remarks. I try tough love.
"Mohammed, you want to be citizen of the US? The first thing you've got to learn is to say two words: 'Fuck you!' THAT'S America."
It's true, of course. That is the unofficial motto of this country. It has been since the Boston Teaparty (the real one). Hell, in 1860, half the nation told the other half that and vice versa. We told foreign nations that in two world-wars. This country was built, from the get-go, on 'Fuck you.'
Sometimes it's good; sometimes it's not.
Our own government told us that with Viet-Nam. They told us that, again, with Iraq. It happens.
What I told my friend back then is just as true today. Be it bogus laws, the Big Lie...whatever enemies of freedom come up with, there is, and can be, only one answer:
All together now...
PS I lost touch with Mohammed years ago. Hope he is alive and free. He's too damn funny to be anything else.