Making My Way

                                                            MAKING MY WAY

                                          MY JOURNEY THROUGH THE DEBRIS

                                                              Craig Hollister

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Another day spinning on a planet called earth. Surviving in a country called America. Trying to fix my broken identity. I sell magic carpets. The smoothest rides of your life. Last month I was top salesman at the Cadillac dealership up on Main Street. I got a handshake from my boss, and the best parking spot for the rest of this month. If I'm top salesman two months in a row, I get a new office chair. Oh, and my wife will love me more. More success means more love in America.

I used to dream a lot. I had a hidden personality of success. A multi business owner, who would donate large sums of cash to the needy. Taking rides on my private luxury rail car, throughout America. Drinking the best Bourbon, and looking out the window as the train passed by farm fields and cities of no name. In reality, I was no more than a dirty dishwasher at a local family restaurant and a big flirt to the waitresses. I was fine. Happy. Content. Until the commercials came into view.

Now I wanted things. The best toothpaste. A new car. A better body. Things chicks love in a guy. My happy identity was fading. I was changing into the creature of goods that I am now. No more fantasizing about Little House on the Prairie and living off the land in the wild frontier. No. This is better, and all my teeth are white as snow.

I married my double. A chick that wanted the best toothpaste and a better body. We hold hands when we shop. We have dreams of renewing our vows so we can have a bigger wedding ceremony. We go to bed at night, watching TV. We live for the weekend so we can shop. We look down on the begging homeless, because they're not like us.

Who am I? I'm a Levis man. A Deere guy. a St Louis Cardinal fan. And a former Oldsmobile man, they don't make them anymore. I am the products I buy. A living billboard. I walk around wearing a Coke It's The Real Thing T shirt. I would not survive in Europe, would I? They would laugh at me, shun me. "There goes another American guy, who has no real clue as to who he is". Well...I could get my identity back I suppose.

What if I Left my wife. Quit work, and lived out my days on the streets? That is the true test of manhood and identity keeping. I have never heard a homeless guy being a Ford or a Chevy man. But, in my wife's eye, I would have the identity as a bum. A loafer. In my own eye, I would know exactly who I am. Living outside I would have no outside influences trying to identify me. I would be a survivor. To me that has a better ring to it, than say, being a Chevy man.

It's always easier to let others dictate who you are. It's easy for oneself to say I'm a Chevy man, or I'm a farmer. Not one who simply drives a Chevy or farms for a living. It is always easy to fit in with the mob, than create something new. For that, I'll always be a Levi's man.