Sine my traveling, I’ve heard Americans being called bullies, dumb and the latest was weird. While thinking about being a weird American, I traveled by foot up and down a busy mall street and observed the people of Dublin.
First there was a gentlemen banging a drum and chanting as he walked up the street flashing a big, silly, smile at all who would look at him. Then he walked by a two-man music group; one man played a saxophone and the other a drum set. The two men heard the drummer playing another beat and changed their music to fit whatever he was doing. Eventually, the drummer playing another beat, moved on up the street to continue to charm the folks of Dublin.
Then I saw a five person stone sculpture that many people seemed to be interested in as they were standing staring at it. So, being weird I thought I’d go and see what the Dublin folks were admiring.
The people were not in stone after all. I realized they were alive when I saw the woman blink. They didn’t change their expressions. Every time someone would drop a coin into a hat, the group would gently bow their heads in thanks.
Then I went to a pub for a bite to eat and sat down and ordered a plate of grilled vegetables, which was very good, by the way. Two men came in for lunch, sat down and both continued their business on their cell phones.
When one of the business men finished his phone call, being weird, I leaned over and said, “Is this a typical business lunch?” He laughed and agreed that, yes, it was.
“Why don’t you just stay in your office and eat lunch there where you could still stay on the phone?”
“Then I wouldn’t get to meet my friend.”
I journeyed on and observed an alley-way with artwork of notable people of Dublin, and on the same walk, I saw three people sitting down with a blanket up to their eyes, holding a cup out hoping someone would drop a coin or two so they wouldn’t need to get up and look for a job.
Some man I’ve seen all over town keeps asking me if I would buy a magazine from him. I say no and then he walks by my side asking me why I don’t want to help him, as he needed food. I told him I didn’t want his magazine and he asked: “Where are you from?”
Being a weird American, I told him it wasn’t any of his business. He walked away from me with a sad look, but went quickly on to harass the next person.