My friend Emma and I have always agreed to disagree about some things and be tolerant of each other's views. Actually that's not true. Emma knows my beliefs and ideas and she has agreed to take every opportunity to try to change my mind and I have agreed to listen and not espouse my views because as she says, "I knew the moment I met you who you are and what you believe and I love you anyway." Emma's not the only person who loves me in spite of myself.
Emma's current campaign is called "those illegals" … read anyone who speaks Spanish.
"Spanish is practically the official language of California," she says. "There are Spanish TV stations in California! Kate, they are teaching Spanish in our schools! Now you know that's not right! They are taking all our jobs." Emma has a job and so do I. I refrain from saying, "At least they haven't taken ours yet." I pray daily for a civil tongue.
"They come across the border just to have their babies so they can get medical services and Kate, real Americans are doing without medical care." Emma is adamantly opposed to any kind of national health care because, "Kate, look what it's doing to Canada and England."
Now I'm not saying someone is right here; only that we hold differing views.
Last week we were in her kitchen drinking coffee and eating crème brulee. It goes without saying that Emma made it. Cooking is not one of my talents but it's certainly one of hers. "You make the best crème brulee I have ever eaten," I said.
"I love to cook as long as I don't have to do the dishes," Emma said. "You know when my husband and I owned the restaurant we had a dishwasher named Arturo and that man would not let me put my hands near dishwater. I have never felt so pampered in my life. He spoke broken English but he let me know his Senora could not wash dishes. He had the sweetest wife and a little one. My husband took him across the border to pick them up and I was a nervous wreck the whole time he was gone. I just knew they would catch Lenny bringing illegals across the border and he would spend the rest of his life in a Mexican prison and I would never see him again."
Okay, praying for a civil tongue has not worked. I slipped.
"Are you telling me you employed "illegals" in your restaurant?"
"Oh sure. They were really great workers and cheap too. And Kate, they were so loyal to us because we were good to them."
I am not drawing any conclusions here. As my friend lzbth would say, "I'm just saying."
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