Wrong Planet

I walk out after eating dinner tonight, past the 7-11 on the corner. A guy, Taiwanese, around 30, walks out of the store. There's a small mutt, a mix of black and white patches, cute, lounging in front. The guy sees the dog, suddenly lunges toward the dog, and stamps his foot, hard, next to him. The dog is, of course, startled, and moves away from the guy, who is now getting on his little scooter which is parked about ten feet away.

I watch the whole thing happen, I see the look on the guy's face. I see the look on the dog's face. As the guy walks by me, without thinking, I look toward him and say to him, in English (it's a gut reaction), "Why?"

He's already passed me and I don't think he heard what I just said. I highly doubt he is or has been in "English mode" in the past few hours, or for that matter, the last 30 years.














Earthrise. For those of you who are wondering, I did not personally take this photo.

I think of confronting him, but I just decide to let it go. What am I going to do, argue with him in Taiwanese while he is opening his pack of Mild Sevens? I doubt it would do any good, although while writing this I think perhaps kicking his scooter over would have given him the message. But I never do that type of thing. That's how wars start, and I am a peace lover.

In the States, my Daoist attitude is definitely not the cultural norm. "Come on, why don't you yell at that guy for cutting in line?" People have shot at each other (with real guns) on the LA freeway.

In English, we say "kick the dog", meaning, Dad comes home in a bad mood, kicks his wife, wife kicks her daughter, the girl then kicks her brother, and then the boy kicks the dog. So, I think, this Taiwanese guy, who kicked him? And this goddamn kicking, when does it stop?

Later, I see the dog as I cross the street. I walk up to him, and pet him. He's happy, he jumps on me, he longs for the attention.

Lately, I've been wondering if I was born on the wrong planet. I think it's possible.