We live in stories created by society, family and ourselves. All us Americans know we live in the land of the free and home of the brave. The land where our first President, the original George W. chopped down a cheery tree and then fessed up to the crime. The people who survived the Great Depression and then fought fascism in World War II, you now know them as The Greatest Generation. The winners of the cold war watched as the Soviet Union came crashing down. You get the idea. Each family also has stories as well full of vivid larger than life characters. I have crazy Uncle Chip, the bookie, and wild eyed Uncle Mike, the drifter. Both spawn stories to carry us through the longest, coldest and darkest of nights. Then there is Grandpa LaVack who lived the Greatest Generation life to the fullest. He went through the Great Depression, was almost killed at Pearl Harbor raised four sons after the war. Earning retirements from the US Navy and the State of California, he passed away comfortably in his own bed at the age of 91. I could fill a book with family stories as I'm sure you can as well. Then, there our our personal stories. At birth, the doctors said I'd never walk. I've walked across college campuses, around in many airports. I've walked in London, England, Varna and Sophia Bulgaria, Saigon and Hanoi, Vietnam. I've taken pee stops in states all across the Union for whatever that's worth.
In each and everyone of us there are countless stories. Listen closely to the stories others tell you. They will reveal themselves in many ways. I used to listen to stories at the Employment Office everyday. One Pakistani dude told me how his ship left him stranded in New York. In time, I came to see why. He was not the nicest person I met there but interesting in a sublime sorta way. Another cat fresh off of "Contracting" in the Middle East told me of his plans to move to the Dakotas, get a CDL and drive trucks in the then booming fracking industry. The dude had his act together. Then there were the criminals. Sadly, they never stop paying for their crimes. Finding life sustaining work is almost impossible and the rest of us wonder why recidivism rates are so high. Listening to stories was one of the coolest parts of the job. Yeah, stories are cool and all- so?
What does story telling have to do with Unpeople?
A lot. There are countess people and groups who's stories are ignored. The odd ball asking for money at the exit from I-40 to ?? has a story. A few people read the sign and give a little cash. I don't because another story I hear is they are not as needy as they seem. True or not, who knows? The high, homeless guy making me and my pal nervous years ago? I did not ask his story. Nope. The people who proudly display the rebel flag in the county south of here? No one cares to ask why. American Indians still living in soul-crushing poverty seldom make the national news for anything good or bad. Looking out beyond our borders, there are countless groups looking just for acknowledgement, chocolate slaves, laborers in Saudi Arabia and ship breakers. Let's not forget the world's shanty towns and city dump dwellers. These stories are just starting to get out. Let's hope they do. Nothing like sunshine to fix things.
There is more to stories.... Soon.
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