An English In Kentucky


















January 22nd 2010    Tim Candler

    I have never photographed well.  Even after bathing, the impression is of one recently reformed and still prone to revision.  So my chances with immigration officers have always been slim.   And these days my eyebrows have chosen to add to my burden by adopting a gesture that suggests I am struggling with a therapy that requires electric shock.  

    Then there is the medical check up, which invariably leads to the question of heart condition.   Mine has never behaved itself and while listening to my pulse a medical  professional can take on the appearance of one on the verge of discovery.   My response usually includes the innuendo that once I was traumatized  by one of their number and have been aggressive toward their profession ever since.   This usually results in a sympathy grade for healthiness.

    What is referred to as 'biometrics', remains something of a mystery.   I can't help but think of it as a test of stature and athleticism.  And here, if asked to run a hundred yards or climb a rope, I could fail miserably.   So during 'biometrics' I'll endeavor to appear energetic, enthusiastic and overcome by a sense of awe.

    However, after almost quarter of a century of living in the United States, I am familiar with the number of Supreme Court justices, the number of  US Senators, and the relationship between Congressmen and population.  This at least offers a potential for a passing grade in the Citizenship Test. 

    Maybe in a year from now I will find myself swearing allegiance to a country.   And maybe that will be a sunny day.

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