Monday, June 18, 2007

AN AMERICA SANDWICH

I moved to the US when I was a lad of twenty-one – now, I know, these days, twenty-one is hardly a lad, but this was some time ago. Indeed, I lived in America for about fifteen years before I returned to the old country and returning there for a visit a couple of weeks ago, I realized that its been twenty-one years since I left America. I guess time does fly when youre having fun.

Ive been back in the interim, of course, but somehow this trip seemed more seminal. Maybe it was the sandwich-ness of it – I was 21 years old before I went there and its been 21 years since. Or, perhaps, it was more. Perhaps it was – as my wife says - that I have finally become Indian again and when I refer to the old country these days I am more likely than not speaking about America.

And what a joy it was being back. It had been about three years since we were last there and it seems to be a completely different place. No doubt I am different – who isnt – but America has clearer eyes, a greater sense of joy and delight, and more – much more – money. For all these differences, however, its twin essences – shopping and the search for innocence – remain unchanged, which is probably why I felt completely at home.

But let me begin at JFK. Pravina and I flew in after a long flight – it was the first time in years we did it straight through from India – and, while we were tired, the excitement of hitting New York, as always, had me almost jumping up and down as the plane landed.

The terminal was cleaner than I remembered and immigration – no, Homeland Security these days – was a breeze. We had waited but a few minutes before we were with this stocky guy who took one look at us and said, Youre boyfriend and girlfriend, right? It hit the spot, we chatted a bit about how tough it is to pay the rent in New York and we were through to baggage claim in minutes.

While waiting for out bags, I had to use the toilet – I had forgotten about restroom – and,after a wide-ranging wander, found it, right by the Homeland Security desks. I went in, positioned myself at a urinal and began my business. As I streamed forth, I suddenly saw what seemed to be a fly in the urinal. I wasn’t sure – I was groggy after a 14 hour flight – but as I looked closer, I saw that it was,indeed, a fly – not live, but painted on the urinal at a relatively comfortable aiming position. I leaned across to look at the bank of (empty) urinals and, sure enough, each one had a fly sweetly painted to entertain the just arriving visitor. Welcome to America took on a new meaning.

Delighted and relieved, I found Pravina, the bags and our limo and we sped – well, given that it was around 9 a.m., sped may not be the best word – into town. It was a beautiful day (of course), bright sunshine and wonderfully w-a-r-m. I tried to gab on the phone – I had a US mobile, which I had rented in India – but, true to New York tempo, I got about seven voice message. [I realize now that they used to be answering machines – the same impact, but different.]

We got to the hotel – 60T – around 10, and, unsurprisingly, our room wasn’t ready – check in is at 3. But we were prepared and, leaving our bags, headed down to Reas for a shower. And stepping out onto Thompson Street, turning south to Broome and then left towards West Broadway, the city came rushing back into my feet. It was like I lived here, like I always lived here – except I don’t. I live in Bombay, but, I guess, since I know New York so well, it was like being on holiday in my home town – an extraordinary feeling that few of us get to experience very often. Welcome to New York.

Well, this set the tone for the trip. We spent a few days in New York, then flew out to San Francisco; after a few days there at The Clift hotel – the Redwood Bar is one of the best ever anywhere, by the way – we hopped down to San Diego to visit my cousin Momo and his lovely wife, Mary; then, back across the country to Miami, where I morphed into Ramon (also known to those in the know as Miami Mecklai), where we were joined by Terrelito and Carmelita, who flew across from the Bay Area to be our guides and co-conspirators in silliness; three days in Miami – South Beach, Ocean Drive, Little Habana, mojitos, bikini tops – would make even the most spiritually defaced intellectual believe in God; we left the Ritz Carlton on a cloud to our next stop to visit my aunt and her husband, who had (operative last letter I think) been laid up with cancer in Bradenton, across the state. My aunt, though born in India, has lived in the US for about fifty years, but, in my belief, is the most American American anywhere. Without any thought or doubt, she wears red, white and blue EVERY DAY BETWEEN MEMORIAL DAY AND LABOUR DAY, and just goes about her business. I want to get a video of her doing her thing onto Youtube. Staying with them was about as America as you can get and, since they had hosted me when I first went to the US, a perfect place to taste the American sandwich. Final stop, of course, was Nueva York again. I LOVE NEW YORK.

But I live in Bombay, which is fabulous and where Im back now digesting the America sandwich. Its tasty with, surprisingly, a raft of different flavors, but, instead of going into every detail – spare me the details, I often tell my much-more-skilled daughter – let me just hit a few high notes of observation.

First of all, as I mentioned in passing, the economy is doing great. Everywhere we went, people were out spending more money – much more money – than they used to three or four years ago. Now, I know, I was visiting the high spots and I was on vacation, but Ive lived in America, and I can feel the economic energy. It is high – way up there. When I spoke about it to some people we met on the West Coast – a wonderful Sunday afternoon at Stinson Beach – one of them said, maybe people are seeing the light at the end of the Bush tunnel and so are in a better mood.

My uncle in Florida said the economy is the strongest hes seen it in a long time. He said, you know what Napoleon said about the British – theyre just a bunch of shopkeepers buying from and selling to each other. That’s America in spades, and you know what the British did to Napoleon. He said another interesting thing – he said the best time he can remember is from about halfway through Clintons first term till the end of his second term, when the economy was on a wild tear. And, he said, you know why that happened? Because the White House and the Congress were controlled by opposite parties and the government couldn’t get in the way of America – hes about as libertarian as I know, in case you hadnt noticed, but I think theres some truth there.
Which suggests that maybe the Republicans will shock everybody by winning the White House and the boom will continue. But please not Guliani – I know a lot of people like him, but to me, hes just a barefaced liar. Or, perhaps, the Democrats will win the White House and following Bob Uncles observation, this may be the surprise trigger for a turnaround in the continuing wild and joyous markets.
Unless, of course, the current turmoil in the Treasuries market turns into something lasting – unlikely, but in the words of the Great American Saint, Johnny Carson, MORE TO COME

1 comment:

klinkows said...

Classic Jamal in the pursuit of happiness.