Friday, January 27, 2012

The Mission Suburbs

Baleen says I glofiry the working class. I ignore their generalized faults and ennumerate those of the One Percenters, vaguely scheming and hoping to be part of them while still believing I've got more blue than white collar in me. Perception isn't reality, she says, reality is. It's why she corrects me when I say we live in the Mission (Noe Valley), that my parents own a ski condo in Park City (I'm a 1/3rd owner, having put down an equal amount as Margarine and Grizzly/WoodDuck) or point out that I'm more likely to tell somebody that I'm an Army brat than a Princeton grad.

It's true, and more difficult for me to recognize as I, like most others, sometimes see or present what I want to see, rather than what's in front of me. But the tables were turned this weekend when Baleen and I took our all day Dont Break the Baby in the 1st Two Weeks course. After eleven years in this city I feel like I know a fair amount of people, especially those around my age who can afford to take a course on infant care. So I was surprised that amongst the fifty couples in our course, I didn't know a-one.

The bigger surprise came from Baleen, whose four year tenure makes her less likely to know anybody. When I said I was suprised I didn't know anybody, she said she was surprised there was only one lesbian or gay couple. Oh, which one is that, I asked? The one in the back right corner, she said. I thought for a second. The one with the black sweater and ponytail, I asked? Yes, she said. They're not lesbians, I said. I saw the husband in the bathroom, he just has cherry cheeks and is smaller than she is.


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