The Human Boomerang

We've spent much of the last two weeks with each of the major political parties taking prime-time turns telling us about all the great things we are, and have, living in the USA while the Loyal Opposition carps (or you can swap the 2nd and 3rd letters and achieve the same result) about the shortcomings produced by their policies and politics or you can remember this, one of my favorite one liners from life in (west) Germany "a refugee is someone who votes with his feet."

And in the case of Jose Garcia, the polls must already be open. I am aware especially in a presidential election year, immigration reform, from the looner sheriff in Arizona (looner being a euphemism for racist; oh dear. Did I type that so everyone could read it? Awkward.) to The Dream Act, is a slightly more than warm to the touch button issue for many of us. A good discussion with all the facts might be nice but I wouldn't hold me breath waiting on that to happen.

Immigration reform and control are important for me as well, not just because my mom and dad's families arrived here in a Mayflower moving van rather than the ship which landed at Plymouth Rock, but also because I'm married to the mother of my two children who's a citizen of another country and had to wade through huge amounts of paperwork requiring patience and a lot of prayer (that you filled them all out correctly) in order to be allowed to live here (and I'm the prize for all of that? God and Her/His sense of  humor).  

It is a privilege to live here however you came to it, birth or migration. Historically we have been the land of hope and dreams for everyone of every other nation on earth and we, as well as they, have been well served by the influx of new ideas, new energies and new blood.

But Jose, you're pushing it so hard, you're pulling it, buddy. Unless and until there's more to this story than what's surfaced, as much as I admire the ambition and the determination, gotta suggest seriously, you make travel plans for a different destination. After all, how can I miss you when you never go away?
-bill kenny