I was talking to my co-worker George (he is Czech) about his plans for the weekend, and he said that he will be going with his girlfriend to meet her dad and stay at his house. "And her dad has a gun!" The last part is a direct quote from George, and he mentioned that fact a couple of times.
Meanwhile, I keep thinking, "It's really no big deal that he has a gun..."
Then I realized that I am not in Texas anymore, this is the CZ, and not everybody has guns. In fact, I'm not even sure its really allowed, and the only reason that this father has one is because he is the park ranger (or something) in the village where he lives....
I had to laugh. And it made me remember the time 3 years ago that I was on a train from Budapest to Prague and at 2AM, the passport officer checks my passport and says to himself, "Texas...pow, pow" Good times.
1 comment:
that's a fun story. to that i'll add one of my own, which really coincides with yours. that being the texas shaped bottle opener i have. see texas' manifest destiny was to have the southeast border fashioned in a way, that when reduced in size, forms the exact arc needed to pop the top on an ice cold brewski. this is a mathematical anomaly that can only be explained by divine intervention. and our kinship to the gun is preceded by our relation to beer. texas geography made us thirsty for beer. and beer made us hungry for "pow pow."so when another european references the texan obsession with guns, you can tell him or her not to thank us, cause it was manifest destiny.
-byron
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