They Are Not Like Us - A Quest For Diversity

They say some of us develop more slowly. For instance you've probably heard that girls develop much more rapidly than boys. Well, I was definitely one of those boys who developed more slowly. I don't think it was for any lack of mental intelligence so much as a lack of emotional intelligence and being raised in cultural isolation.

Let's be honest: most of us are raised in relative cultural isolation. What is normal to you and your family growing up: well, I have news for you: it isn't normal to everyone. People tend to hang out with those who seem familiar to them by lifestyle and interests, and this ends up being cultural isolation. I will be the first one to admit "white privilege" and the lack of knowledge of cultures of color, but I've got news for you if you aren't white: you don't know anything about white culture either, and the things your family taught you about us white folk, well, they are just as mythological as what us white folks were taught about people of color.

But before I piss everyone off, let me get back on topic: I developed slowly, and I honestly didn't learn to embrace other cultures until I was half way through my life.

I remember as a kid "going for a drive" with my parents. That's what our little sub-culture of white america did: we went for drives. Always a day trip, and rarely an overnight thing: drives in the country, drives through unknown neighborhoods, drives following around the Goodyear blimp late at night. I would have to say it was one of my dad's favorite hobbies when I was younger.

On this particular occasion we were driving through Arizona, on the back highway between Flagstaff and Sedona, through the beautiful country called Oak Creek Canyon. I was probably about 15 at the time.

My parents were talking about the beautiful scenery when we came to an area of highway congestion. Scores of people were parking and getting out of their cars in swim suits and with inflatable water things. I gazed out the window in amazement at people who were playing in the water of Oak Creek. It was a sweltering hot day so it made sense. But it was the first time in my life that I actually remember thinking: "Wow! Who are these people? They are not like us. They do things that we don't do. In fact, they do really cool and interesting things that we don't do."

I heard my mom rambling in the front seat about how dangerous it was for all those stupid people playing in the rushing waters of the creek. As I pressed my face against the car window while we drove by I didn't think it looked dangerous. I thought it looked fun! But it wasn't what we did.

Later that same day my dad drove on a dirt backroad that went through the rushing waters of another creek bed. So, we can leave the discussion about what is dangerous for later.

It still didn't occur to me that there was a whole other world out there that I knew nothing about from inside my tiny culturally isolated shell.

There were times before that, when I was younger, that I realized "we were different." For instance every time I was with my grandparents and they started speaking to one another in Portuguese. Or when we went to some of our Portuguese family's homes to visit and got another huge dose of that culture. I didn't realize at the time that just how isolated everyone was in their respective cultures. We saw each other in our native cultures but we didn't participate in them. I suspect the Portuguese family knew even less about us that we knew about them.

And then there were those who, for lack of a better expression: they were different. My "cousin Larry" was one such young man. My parents visited my mom's aunt and uncle every once in a while, but on this particular trip they warned me not to get too friendly with their son Larry. He was "going through a hard time" they told me.

Well, we sat around in the living room with my Portuguese great aunt and great uncle. Very boring for a kid my age, roughly 10 or 11 at the time.

Then I heard my great uncle say: "maybe your son would like to go see Larry's room?" About this time Larry came out to see who these guests were. I'm not sure what Larry's age was at the time. He was maybe 5 to 10 years older than me. But it wasn't his age that made me realize he was different, it was how he was dressed. Wild colors, bead necklaces, a huge afro,

Larry invited me into his room and my parents weren't objecting so I followed. His walls were covered with wild colored tapestries and posters. The lights were dim and he had a black light on illuminating some of the black felt posters. Of course, I didn't know what a black light was at the time, nor a black felt poster. He had a record player and he pulled out a record and started playing it. It was some crazy stuff I'd never heard before. (Probably the Beatles.) I was slightly afraid and slightly excited in a way I'd never been. Larry wasn't like us. No, he definitely wasn't like us.

Let me jump ahead. I'm now in my early 20's and beginning to sense that I've been culturally deprived my whole life. I go to church with people who are a little bit like me, but even they "weren't raised the way I was." They are white - we have that in common - but one of them is Scandinavian, and another Irish, and a few of them (oh my!) drink beer.

This was about the time of my life where I decided I'd had it. I wasn't going to be culturally deprived any more. I was going to reach out, stretch, grow, learn new things, experience new cultures.

I did two very different things: I got involved in a Christian Ministry with street kids, and I visited the Russian-American Friendship Pavilion at the Seattle Goodwill Games.

Yes, you can imagine how different both of the cultures I experienced in these two activities were. I believe they formed the foundations of my quest for cultural diversity.

Among the street kids I learned a lot. Not just the slang of street lingo, and all about the lifestyle of prostitutes and pimps, drug dealers and drug users, but even experienced quite a bit of the culture of those who live in the projects, and the culture of Samoan youth and their gangs. I did everything from let a prostitute stay at my house for a while, to inadvertently becoming the getaway car in what I later suspected was an armed robbery. The gang of Samoans loved me so much they invited me to the barbecues their families put on. That was something I really enjoyed. And I became the poster child for "how not to be" at all the orientations and trainings this Christian ministry put on for many years to come.

They are not like us.

And among the Russians I went down another rabbit hole. While among the Samoans I merely learned a few phrases to speak in Samoan (Fafeia mai oi, uso? how's it going, brother?) among the Russians I actually started to learn the whole language. That was a gargantuan task. One I have not completed yet, although I tell people I could hop on a plane to Moscow and not need to take a phrase book with me.

But a culture is more than a language. With the Russian culture I went sort of crazy. I met a whole bunch of Russians who were stuck in Seattle, because they had left the Soviet Union on a cultural travel expedition sponsored by their government, and while they were away their government had collapsed and didn't exist any more. Picture Tom Hanks in The Terminal, only this was on a ship in Elliot Bay. Their ship was moored there for a couple of years, and their people were stuck here for months and months without any way to get home.

Fast forward a couple years and I'm actually visiting Russia at the invitation of one of the friends I had made from that ship. It's not just about eating piroshki or getting drunk by the dacha campfire and barfing all over my hosts vegetable garden. There were elements of visiting ancient buildings and museums, attending my very first Orthodox church service, and following those shafts of light I saw beaming down in the Holy Trinity cathedral all the way back home to where, months later, I decided to embrace the Orthodox church and become an Orthodox Christian.

They are not like us.

I'm a late bloomer. I've mentioned this before. But up until this point I was still primarily politically and socially very conservative. Over the years of being an Orthodox Christian, I followed the ethic of what they call "Orthodox Spirituality" further and further until I became what you now might call a "flaming liberal." How can that be, you wonder. Isn't Orthodox Christianity the most conservative sort of Christianity that exists?

No, not really. It is theologically very conservative and very traditional. In fact, defining traditional. The Catholic Church by contrast hasn't got more than its small toe rooted in history. But the Orthodox Church is socially more aware of the world around it, embracing the diversity of other cultures, and there is one key theological component that provides the mandate for living your life: we are all human and no one of us can say that they are better than others. It is categorically forbidden to judge others, and we are reminded of this throughout the history of Orthodox teaching, in the liturgical works that are recited at services, and in the sermons. You will never hear a sermon in an Orthodox Church disrespecting the LGBTQ community or people of color (actually there are millions of black Orthodox Christians since the Orthodox church spread south through Africa many centuries before protestants and whites came there.) I admit that I've had some gay friends that did not do well in the Orthodox Church, and I've had others who thrived there for a time, but ultimately left. But I still find the Orthodox Church, at least in America, on the "accepting" side of the spectrum.

I spent a long time down that rabbit hole. But it is not the only culture I embrace.

There are those who know me now that are surprised to hear I still consider myself an Orthodox Christian. And there are those among the Orthodox who wonder why I never come to Church.  (Actually, just attending Orthodox feast days gets you to Church more times a year than most protestants go to Church... so there's that...)  I'm not going to answer that here, except to say that there is so much more out there in the world.

I have discovered and embraced several more cultures beyond this.

What about the Wino Culture? I define wino here as someone who really loves tasting wines, learning all about them, how they are made, knowing your grapes, learning your wine regions, and so on. Right now this is one of my favorite cultures. I "wasn't raised to embrace such things" but I've slowly worked toward my family's acceptance of my embracing this culture. A couple years ago I even got my tee-totaling (nearly) brother to drive me on a wine tasting trip of the Applegate Valley in southern Oregon. Yes, progress in diversity.

Beyond this there is the booze culture in general. Those who have attended parties at my house over the past 5 years or so have discovered that I now have a knack for home bartending, both mixing and creating interesting drinks.

Let me not forget the Con Culture - another one of my favorites. I love dressing up in costumes and going to conventions. I have friends who are deep into cosplay, including those who LARP (Live Action Role Play). This is where you go to some place in the wood for a weekend and make it into an imaginary medieval village (often using elaborate props). Everyone is given a role and you have to stay IN the role the entire weekend. It is a little bit more "hard core" than simple Convention Culture, where you just pretend to vaguely be a wizard for a few hours, but get to stay in a comfortable hotel, and "get out of costume" any time you like.  Often at conventions, I wear a completely different costume each day. Mostly a wizard, but sometimes a pirate and sometimes Kris Kringle (one of my Wizard-Fairy characters from my novels.) I have friends who again are more "hard core" with cosplay. Some who have huge online and convention followings due to all the costumes they make and model in.

There is a lot of diversity out there!  So many people not like us.

Over the course of the pandemic I've gone further down the rabbit hole of cultural diversity. Two and a half years ago I planned "my first trip" to Italy. A trip to Venice, that magnificent city!  I started learning Italian, and now am pretty good at it. I've made online friends who are all over Italy.

Of course, I've always loved Italian food. Most American's are raised on the American versions of spaghetti and pizza.  But, of course, I've embraced much more beyond this in terms of Italian recipes for foods and cocktails. I've been nearly an expert in Italian wines (some of my friends - even in Italy - consider me an expert) and I've dabbled in a host of classic Italian cocktails. I've become a lover of various Italian cheeses and meats. I've studied Italian history, especially the history of the Venetian Republic, and read Italian literature, some of it going back and forth between the original Italian and a translation. I've been on virtual tours all over Italy, and probably know more about Italy than just about anyone else on the planet who hasn't yet been there. 

I've had much the same experience with Italian things as I had with Russian things years ago. Except that I haven't been there yet.

But the pandemic has gone on and on.  So I made friends online with people in other countries too.

Somehow I became online friends with quite a number of Indonesians, most of whom are Muslim.  I started learning the language, and decided to put Indonesia on my bucket list. I've learned a lot about their culture and history, but not nearly as much as I've leaned about Italy. I've also learned a lot about the biodiversity of their 12,000+ islands.  Did you know, for instance, that portions of the rainforest in Sumatra are the only place on the planet where Tigers, Elephants, Orangutans, and Hippos live together?

And a close second to Indonesia is Thailand.  Thailand has always been on my bucket list, and now I've made online friends there, AND I've started learning the Thai language (very hard, let me tell you...) After months of studying Thai, I'm still struggling to learn the alphabet and can only say about a dozen phrases - but can't write more than about two of those, because I don't know all the letters in them yet.  Most professional teachers of the Thai language tell you to just skip trying to read and write Thai and only learn to memorize phrases and say them properly.  But, not me. I jumped right down the rabbit hole of the Thai Alphabet.

They are not like us.

As you might imagine. While both countries are nearby. They have similar climates and vegetation. Both have elephants and tigers roaming the wilds. But Thailand (which is 90% + Buddhist ) and Indonesia (which is 90% + Muslim) have very, very different cultures.

There are some very cool and interesting things about Thailand, aside from beautiful Buddhist temples, and very friendly people.  For one, did you know that Pad Thai - the national dish of Thailand and the favorite for most Americans at all of our Thai Restaurants, was invented by the Chinese, brought to Thailand, and then adopted by the Thai as their "national dish" - wow, huh?

And another of your favorite Chinese things: Sriracha sauce, actually is originally from Thailand, where today the most famous brands are made in the city of Sriracha, in the province of Sriracha (ซอสศรีราชา), not too  far from Bangkok. (I have tried in vain to find any Thai brands of Sriracha available in the united states, although I have found and purchased some of Indonesian's popular "ABC Sauce" here.)

Beautiful and interesting people, in beautiful and interesting places.

They are not like us.

Probably the next place on my list of interesting places I've learned about and interesting people I have met is the Philippines - although I haven't learned much, and can only think of one or two words I know in the main Filipino language, Tagalog - which has some remarkable similarities to Indonesian, including what I would call some "crossover words" which mean similar but slightly different things. I can't say I know much about Filipino culture, although I was eating Chicken Adobo for lunch at a Filipino restaurant in the Pike Place market at least once a week for the 10 or so years that I worked in downtown Seattle.

In all, in the seclusion of my home, using my computers and/or phone, with a variety of different social networking applications, I have made friends and acquaintances in all of the following countries: Italy, France, Germany, Netherlands, Spain, Portugal, UK, various parts of USA, Colombia, Venezuela, Brazil, Argentina, Japan, China, Philippines, South Korea, Vietnam, Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, Myanmar, India. I have taken time to study the following languages: Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Indonesian, Thai. (I had to give up Spanish and Portuguese for a while because they interfered with my Italian, but I hope to return to them once I'm pretty stable in Italian.) I have read about the culture, the people, the history, the geography, the flora and fauna (and visited all of these places in Google Earth or Street view - many of them in 3D with my Oculus) of pretty much all of the countries listed above. When I meet someone new and become friendly with them, I like to see the city and country they live in. I like to think about maybe visiting that place someday.

My bucket list of places to visit someday started out with Italy (because I was mesmerized by it), the Azores (because my Portuguese ancestors came from there, and Thailand (because it was so cool.)  Because of the people I have met, I have added several more places: Indonesia, various different trips to different regions in Italy, possibly Malaysia and/or Singapore (because they are both so close to Indonesia and Thailand, it might be a shame to go down all that way and not see all three four countries in one trip.) And my bucket list of places I would like to visit continues to grow and expand the more people I meet in interesting places.

You may have noticed I don't include Russian in that list. I have known so many Russians and been immersed in Russian culture so much, that it doesn't interest me so much any more. But I always have in the back of my head to perhaps someday make a return visit, and possibly include Ukraine and Belarus, to possibly meet up with the kids my wife and I had hosted from those countries, or try to look up my old friends in Moscow.

The world is an interesting and diverse place. People everywhere have the idea that they are all that there is.  This is not unique to us in the USA, no matter how common it might seem here. But my hope is that with the blossoming of global social networking there has come about a global social awareness that may in the future help people of all cultures to transcend their differences.

But, sadly, I have found that there are prejudices against people of other cultures no matter where you go on the planet. No culture seems to be immune to this.

Perhaps if we all consider: They are not like us. Yes. But we also are not like them.  We are all on this planet together. We have weathered and continue to weather a horrific storm, with this global pandemic. But we will get through this, and hopefully come out shining brighter on the other side.  

Explore the world! Learn about other nations and cultures. Everyone has a history, a uniqueness. If you are a Christian or one the many other religions that believes in the Christian God, then you know that we are also all equal in God's eyes.

Our many cultures have influenced one another for many centuries. Sometimes for the better, and sometimes for the worse. Let us hope that in the many years to come it is always for the better.

Peace. Shalom. Salam.

The Journey

 The Journey is not about the destination. It is not about any of the destinations. It is about The Journey. It is about savoring all you learn and experience along the way. A destination is just another micro-journey. One where you will continue to wander and grow and learn.

The "Bucket List" isn't about showing the world your accomplishments, as if to say "Look what I did before I died." No, it is all about cataloging the things you wish to learn, and then things you learned. It is all about having experiences, embracing them and bring them into the fabric of your own being, and then sharing them to some degree with others.

This reminds me of my first bucket list. As a creative personality I am always scribbling things down. My desks are usually littered with hundreds of little post-it-notes or things scribbled hastily on torn-out pages of small notebooks. Ideas, and dreams. Characters and inventions. Places of the imagination. Coordinates in a game. Lists of spells and incantations both literary and in games. Things I dream up and things I collect from others. Places I want to go, things I want to create. Languages I want to learn. Favorite poets. Favorite colors. Colors in other languages where they have a certain glow that they seem to lack in English. Ideas for recipes. Recipes for ideas. Lists of things needed to brew beer or make wine or make a cake.

Once upon a time I grew frustrated with the clutter of these tiny notes on my desk and had a thought: "I will collect all of these and throw them into a bucket. Then any time I am searching for an idea about anything, I will scrounge around in the bucket a little."

I collected my notes, my ideas and dreams for a couple of years in my bucket. This was my first bucket list. It wasn't a list of things I wanted to do before I kicked the bucket, it was a bucket of lists.  A bucket of things in nearly every category you could imagine.

Then one day someone who shouldn't have been cleaning my office dumped my whole bucket into the trash.  I didn't discover it for several days and  it was already too late. The trash had already gone out to the street corner and been picked up by the Waste Management people.

I was upset of course, but I didn't take out my anger on anyone, because when I looked at that bucket, it really did look pretty foul and I could see how someone might have thought it was just a rubbish bin. I decided to repurpose that bucket, perhaps even use it as a waste bin. And to keep my ideas and dreams someplace else.

Don't throw your ideas and dreams into a waste bucket, or something that looks like a waste bucket.

So much to say, this is the real bucket list. It is a collection of your dreams.

I always thought the idea of a bucket list was stupid. People should be able to do what they want all the time and not waste time with such things.  But a few years back I realized that I had aspirations for a few things that would take some time in planning and saving to bring to pass. So, I started my first official bucket list, that I called a bucket list, and thought of as a bucket list. It generally centered around places I wanted to go before I died.

I didn't want to go to these places simply so I could say I had gone to these places. I wanted to go there because they were things that invoked in me the deep hallows of my dreams. I always found the city of Venice enchantingly beautiful. La Serenissima, floating on the water like a dream. I had always been mystically drawn to the Azore Islands, because that's where my ancestors came from. I put these places as the first places on my bucket list.

I would have to say that is when The Journey began. I have always put a great deal of forethought and planning into every major thing I have done, whether it is writing a novel, creating a song, making a movie or even a short video, I study and I research and I learn everything I can about anything that can possibly be related to my dream.

My family members, and those who have stayed my my family, over the years would recognize that I have always planned the most elaborate vacations. We have traveled to every stretch of the coast of Washington, Oregon, and Northern California, and with every trip we have always seen and done a host of new things.

I did something similar years ago when I travelled to Russia. The host family who sponsored me was amazed that I already knew the whole layout of Moscow, and where all the famous authors and poets had been born, lived, died and been buried. I also had a pretty good grasp of the Russian language before I traveled. The travel book that I studied as I planned was written entirely in Russian.

As I began to plan my trip to Venice I did something similar, and this part of the journey has grown and grown into something more than I originally imagined. I started with a Rick Steves travel guide to Venice. Then I got his Rick Steve's Italian phrase book. After getting a pretty good grasp of his Italian phrases I deiced that I actually wanted to really learn Italian and not just memorize a bunch of phrases, that I didn't really understand the mechanics of.

That blossomed. Eventually I downloaded about 5 different phone apps for learning Italian (I'm down to just 4 now), and that grew into "wanting to find some Italians I could chat with and try and learn more."

It helped that we were having a pandemic and I was at home all of the time.

My initial search for a way to talk with Italians was pretty fruitless, but eventually I found the livestream chats on Youtube, where I could chat with and learn from Italians in a chat textbox, and then I found Bigo Live where I could chat with Italians while they livestreamed, and even face to face. The journey was spreading.  On both of these apps right away I started meeting people in a lot of other countries too.  After a year and a half of chatting on youtube, and a year of chatting and watching broadcasts on Bigo Live a lot has changed.  A lot.

Right away I started picking up a lot of Spanish and a lot of Portuguese. That hadn't been a part of my plan, but Spanish is always nice to know in the USA (my next door neighbors are Mexicans) and Portuguese would always be nice to know when I visit the Azores someday.

I forgot to mention Thailand.  Thailand was the first place that I put on my bucket list because of two things: beautiful architecture and temples, and elephants!

Fast forward and after a year and a half of becoming friends with foreigners, all of the following has changed:

* I've made pretty good friends in Venice, and in other parts of Northern Italy (Milano and Torino) who I hope to visit with when I get there.

* I've also made friends in Rome, Naples, Sicily, Sardegna, Liguria, Umbria, Calabria, Puglia and Basilicata. Yes, did you know they had a region named after ME! :D 

* I've also made friends in the upper Rhone Valley in France, in the Galicia and Andalusia regions of Spain.

* Made quite a bunch of friends in Brazil and most of my Portuguese experience comes with chatting and talking with them. I actually spent one of my new years eves at a virtual "beach party" near Rio di Janeiro (online) Nobody in Portugal yet, although Galicia is close.  

* For some reason most of the Spanish speaking friends I have made are in Colombia, but a couple are in Venezuela and Mexico too.

* I've made friends in Thailand, Malaysia, and a whole bunch of friends in Indonesia (now also on my bucket list). A few in the Philippians, and a few scattered other places across Europe. 

* I now know quite a number of people in all of those places. I follow their lives and they follow mine. Quite a number of places have been added to my bucket list, in varying degrees, but I certainly hope to take to trip to Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia someday and another to South America. This is in addition to my Rhone Valley France trip and my southern Italy trip.

* for a while I studied Spanish and Portuguese with my Italian studies but this was too difficult. They have so many similarities that I would keep getting things mixed up in Italian, and since Italy is the first place I plan to visit, I didn't want to mess up my potential with Italian, so I set aside the others (limiting myself just to the basic greetings). Instead I added Indonesian to my language studies, and there is the bonus that Malay is nearly identical to bahasa Indonesia. In fact Wikipedia says Indonesian is a Malay dialect.

Making friends with people on social media can have a sad aspect. Sometimes someone will vanish without a trace and you never hear from them again. In one case, one friend who vanished like that, we (our collective online group) were able to figure out that he died. But fortunately many of my new online friends I have now on more than one social media account. So if they delete their accounts one place there is always the chance I can find them and follow up with their lives in another place.

This is The Journey. But this is not all. In addition to making new friends and learning languages I am also reading about the history, culture, art and religion of many new places. I've picked up and read quite a few new poets and playwrights, listened to some interesting new music in a vast number of genres, and read about the strangest episodes of history.  Marco Polo is a favorite example. I picked him up and started reading him as part of my Italian studies until he got to Sumatra (the largest island in the North West portion of Indonesia which has  more than 20,000 islands). I lost interest here, but that was before Indonesia was  a part of my life. I plan to circle back to Marco Polo and resume with him on Sumatra.

As a connoisseur of many things, everyone wants to share their food and drink with me. So, I've learned a lot of new cocktails from my friends in northern Italy, and even video-blogged about some of them. I've learned that Thai people DO use chopsticks but only on noodles - it is too hard with rice. I now feel much better about all the years I asked for chopsticks at Thai restaurants. Oh, and by the way did you know that Phad Thai was invented by the Chinese but later became so popular in Thailand that it became their national dish? Also, that bottle of Siracha you have may be made in San Francisco, but Siracha actually comes from the city of Siracha in Thailand.

Lastly, we were all taught somewhere (perhaps by the zookeepers at our local zoos) that there are two kinds of Elephants, African and Indian. But actually, there are seven distinct kinds of Elephants, and the "Asian Elephant (which you find in Thailand and the Maylay peninsula is distinct from the Indian Elephant. Three of the distinct varieties are those living on the island of Sri Lanka, those living on the Island of Sumatra (part of Indonesia) and those living on Borneo (an island shared by the countries of Brunei, Malaysia and Indonesia).

Did you know that you can go onto google street view in Thailand and see elephants crossing the road?

All a part of the journey folks, and it makes sense that I got here from Venice, when you consider that Marco Polo brought the Venetian empire to the south pacific, and Sumatra specifically before Columbus had discovered America.

Another fun fact: it is widely recognized that the numbers of elephants in Sumatra are declining, due to loss of habitat. But if you check with any organization that actually counts elephants, the estimated elephant population of Sumatra has actually been climbing! Why is that? How can that be?  It is because much of the Island of Sumatra is still completely unexplored. Can you imagine that?  A place on our own planet, not at the bottom of the ocean, that nobody has yet explored! Sadly, it is only becoming explored as the agricultural industries for coffee and palm oil (mostly palm oil) expand their deforestation of Sumatra. In Sumatra the problem they have with poaching of elephants is not for their tusks, it is largely farmers trying to protect their crops.

And yet, one of Marco Polo's first places to explore was Sumatra where he stayed for nearly a year and a half while his ships were being repaired.

This is the journey.

(To follow Basil's Journey, subscribe to the facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/basilexplorer - Cheers!)

Try Before you Die

Here is a short piece of fiction I wrote about one of the characters in one of my novels. It was written nearly 10 months ago but never published. I just re-read it and it seems publishable to me, so here you go. It is short. It ends abruptly. It may someday be part of a larger work. Enjoy!

"Try Before you Die"
by Basil Sprig

Smitty had an insatiable appetite for life.

He loved every sort of food, and really could never understand people who didn't like a certain food.

He loved every sort of music, and could never wrap his brain around people who shunned a certain genre.

And art? He loved everything from the realists to the abstract expressionists, and the millions of nuances in between.

Movies and theater: great stuff. He wished he had more time to watch every movie, every television show, and see every theatrical production.

Musicals? No problem. He loved them too.

And booze?

Some of his friends through he was an alcoholic because he drank so much. But as things stood, he wanted to try every new and interesting cocktail. He wanted to try all the different and various and nuanced wines. He was on a quest to study every wine region in Europe, what grapes they grew, and what wines they produced. He was even getting to where he could actually do a blind taste test and come up with a pretty close guess as to what wine he was drinking.

Smitty's ancestors had been pioneers, and unfortunately abolitionists. Somehow the notions that all alcoholic beverages were evil was passed down through the generations. So he never really quite fit in with his biological family.

Over time, society's acceptance of "a glass of wine with dinner" became more widespread. Smitty took advantage of this to  crack open a bottle of wine every time he visited his parents.  At first he kept this bottle hidden, only pouring himself a glass once dinner was on the table. In later visits with his parents he started keeping the bottle of wine in the kitchen where everyone could see it. It wasn't long before he was having several glasses of wine per day at his parents house.

Occasionally his mom would snap at him: "Your aunt Jeraldine is coming over. You make sure you hid that stuff. She doesn't tolerate people drinking!"

He had complied and hidden the wine, only to find aunt Jeraldine was getting more liberal too, and had actually brought a bottle with her to dinner.

"I heard you drank wine, Nephew," she said.

Smitty just smiled and gave his aunt a big hug.

He noticed his mom was looking the other direction with a perturbed expression on her face.

It wasn't easy being an aesthete and epicurean in a family of austere abolitionists.