MY CORNER STORE
I find I've been going out of my way to shop at Arab and Asian-owned businesses this last week. I figure there's been so much talk, even among people who should really know better (which I guess is everyone) that we shouldn't be giving money to Those People, that I figure some of them are losing business, and so I'll put a little extra effort in to giving them what little business I can provide. Trust me, it's meager, but it's something else I can do.
Around the corner from my house is the Little Pakistan Deli, which amidst its various signs in Arabic is flying as big an American flag as there is covering every square inch of the rest of the city these days (and I'm guessing the country too, though I haven't left Manhattan for more than a couple of hours since the attacks). It's yer standard East Village deli, open 24 hours, near both the NYU campus and a hospital, and even though it's fairly small it's always had people milling around in it, day and night, weekday and weekend, until this week.
I go past that place every day on my way to and from work, and it's been a ghost town in there.
What does one say or do when you see this happening? I find I've made a point of getting whatever I need, like TP, ramen, candy bars, "Kill The Taxman" voodoo candles, Froot Loops, cigars, saucy teen magazines, you know, the staples of modern life (I'm kidding - I hate Froot Loops and I can't remember the last candy bar I had, but -- look, I'm trying to make a point here) from there. Partly because I bet they're tenser than many others with their national allegiance dangling out there like some big bullseye for the abuse I'm sure they're getting, and partly because, like Jonathan Richman, I just like the character of a decent corner store, and the thought of this one closing makes me sad, and I've had enough sad for this month already, thanks.
I'm not making extra trips there for no reason, and I'm not leaving twenties on the counter or anything. Just picking up the slack where some ignorant redneck student who doesn't know any better has decided to take out his rage by boycotting one of his neighbors.
The Evil Twin Theory
Canadian moves to New York City to seek fortune as a songwriter. Hijinks and culture shock ensue.
(Note: This was my previous blog, which ran in this form (but with a different template) for the better part of five years. For my current whereabouts, go to tonyhightower.com.)

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