I was so inspired by breathaking and compelling rant by XicanoPwr, and immediately announced on Man Eegee’s blog my decision that not only I, but also Madame and all descendants would march on Monday.
Then I called them all together to notify them of my decision.
There was an immediate roar from the crowd:
“How can you march?”
“What about your feet?”
“I know! We will put him on a camel!”
“Oh sure. Let me just text Rent-a-Camel and make a reservation.”
“Let’s put him on a burro. The march is about Mexicans.”
“It is not either about Mexicans, dork, it is about all of us.”
“Well we can still put him on a burro.”
“So I should text Rent-a Burro?”
“Wait! Let’s carry him on a palanquin!”
“That would look elitist”
“No it won’t, he is an elder.”
“It will still look elitist.”
“We could get him a wh-“
“Shut up, idiot swine!”
“You will not speak to your sister like that. Apologize.”
“Ahh, didn’t you hear what she said.”
“Did you hear what I said? Apologize to her, and both of you apologize to your ancestor.”
“I’m sorry for calling you an idiot swine.”
“Ancestor, I’m sorry for almost saying the ‘w’ word.”
“Will there be sweets at the march? Jaleeebis? Ice cream?”
“What if we pull him in a wagon?”
“That would not be dignified.”
“It would be more dignified than a camel.”
“The Prophet rode a camel, monkey-breath!”
“Apologize to your brother. And apologize to everyone for mentioning the Prophet in a disrespectful manner.”
“But he DID ride a camel. How is that a disrespectful manner?”
“Do not talk back to your mother. Do as she says.”
“We are sorry.”
“Can I wear lipstick to the march?”
“The march is on Monday. Will you be thirteen by Monday?”
“Ancestor, thank you for this wise decision you have made for us all, as always you put our benefit and edification foremost. Will you permit me to ask if we should we consult your doctors?”
“Will there be sugared fruits at the march?”
“I wish our Ancestor could still eat sugared fruits.”
“He will eat a bite of yours, if there are any there.”
“Can we call and find out if they will have them?”
“Mother make them stop. They are being disrespectful to human rights. The march is about human rights.”
“We will take along some sweets, don’t worry.”
“I hope the Mexicans will bring pan dulce. We can trade!”
“Hush! The march is a serious thing. I think you are too young to go.”
“We are too going! Ancestor said, from himself and Mother Ancestor to the very smallest one of all.”
“Beloved husband, thank you for this wise decision. I also have made a decision. On Friday, we will go shopping for new athletic shoes. And a few other things we will need for the march. And a few other things…”
“See? He can march. He goes shopping with Mother Ancestor. That is like a march.”
“No, it’s not. He just sits in a chair and smiles at her while she tries things on.”
“And grumbles at the store people because they won’t bring him tea. Remember?”
“Stop giggling. This is a serious family meeting.”
“But our Ancestor is also giggling!”
As indeed I was. After enjoying a few more minutes of the reactions of the various generations, I informed them that there will be no camels, burros, or palanquins, and we will not go out of our way to wear particularly colorful national costumes, neither will any of us go out of our way to dress any differently than we normally do. We do not wish to call attention to ourselves, but to human rights. We will stand out quite enough as it is, many of us being unusually tall.
Those who need them will be provided with fine athletic shoes. Those who need them do not include younger descendants who already have several pairs but would like new ones.
While the length of the march itself will be long, Madame and I will attend the send-off rally, march a little way, and ride in an automobile to the site of the march’s end, where we will attend that rally.
Everyone else will march the entire route. All who are not carrying a non-ambulatory descendant and are old enough to do so without tripping themselves up will carry a sign.
What should our signs say?
