The Arrogance of the Diplomat (1st Person) (545 hits)
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Submitted by james souliere <good_old_jamie.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-08-20 16:30:37 EDT
1st Person Fiction - Canada/U.S. Commentary
From the Desk of Moses Barlow
Dear Reader,
To thank you all for your support and praise over the years as an entertainer and mentor, I wanted to present you with a special edition of my column. This week I will be giving you, my fans, a taste of my rise to, if I may say so myself, is a justifiable celebrity status. If I may...
At six foot-six, I was the smallest man in Ottawa... or at least it seemed as such to me. My job has led me to many strange and exotic places throughout my career, but none so harrowing and peculiar as this, my latest home. Living outside my native land has been nothing but a pleasure for me, as I have been graciously received and revered for not only my stature, but also my Western mind-set. In Thailand I stood out in a crowd to the point where I became something of a local attraction. Even in Brazil I held prestige in the community and the rapt gaze of more than a few intrigued local females. Not so different were my sojourns in Morocco, South Africa and Honduras. So what is it that has me, Moses Barlow, tall and proud, so bothered by my latest placement in Ottawa?
I moved into my stylish townhouse with all of my worldly knowledge and possessions three months to the day after the birth of my first child, Henry, in April of 2004. The weather in Canada had finally taken its warm turn, and the promise of a July filled with sunny weather and festivities would excite any newcomer. The thought of coming to a place with all of the amenities I was accustomed to at home, with the twist of excitement that comes from being the foreign point of attraction, had me brimming with excitement. I had never been posted to a city so close to home before. Head office must have really taken notice of my special talents for that. My wife Celia and young Henry were in tow, and were prepared to continue with the nomadic celebrity life that had carried us as far as it had already.
Work was automatic for me at this stage of the game. No matter where I have been, policy and procedure have remained virtually consistent. Environment was the only variable left for the Barlow family. Being submersed into a foreign culture and environment on a level of integration, as opposed to tourism, excited me to no end. Ottawa was another challenge I had been looking forward to. Looking forward to, that is, until the reality of the situation set in.
Unbeknownst to me, Canada turned out to be a highly diverse country with many different cultures remaining symbiotically intact. The structure of Canada's diversity allows little room for astonishment about those different than others. This, I was soon to realize. At first I didn't seem to mind being merely one amongst a crowd, but then the idea of being unspectacular began to upset me profusely. I had been exotic for so long, that it had become a need for me. Despite efforts made to greet the locals by the mailbox or at the corner store with a handshake and an autographed photo, people seemed generally un-taken with me. I would drive my car with the roof down, so that people could wave, but alas, none did. As confusing as this was, I continued on. That is, until a neighbor of mine told me plainly in his colorful local vernacular to "cool my engines down" and "accept the fact that [I] wasn't anything special."
Celia began to notice a change in me shortly after we arrived in Ottawa. She was not aware that my efforts to greet my fans, those who would 'inevitably appear,' were ineffective. She saw me as Moses as she had never seen me before. I had always been an enigmatic showman adored by the masses aplenty. All of a sudden, I seemed not to walk with the swagger she had become used to. She liked my swagger. Celia herself noticed the difference in her own reception by the general population, but unlike me, she did not mind. She welcomed the change. For the life of her, she could not imagine what the problem was. Celia decided to confront me about this newfound depression. It seemed my spirit had been dulled since I had become, in my own words, 'unspectacular.' This alarmed her. She appreciated the privacy we now for had, but at the same time, she cared for her husband's peace of mind. She proposed that I make my mark on Ottawa in any way I could. Now I, not being the type to remain under the thumb of any sort of malady, began to see making my mark on Ottawa society as a challenge.
I wanted to go national with my plans, and thus I began my adventure with evening variety television. It wasn't too difficult to hatch my plans to television executives and sponsors in Ottawa, as my ideas were unusual, yet, naturally, brilliant. If I could not be exotic by virtue alone, I'd do it with entertainment in the form of reality television. As the host of 'Benevolent Moses,' I was able to shock and amaze unsuspecting Canadians with gifts and attention in front of a hidden camera, all under the auspices of corporate backing. As a naturally gifted speaker, I would stage mock job interviews, false blind dates and bogus treasure hunts, all of which came off flawlessly. Every show would end with me handing the subject of my amusement a variety of strange and wonderful gifts ranging from the absurd to the amazing. I once gave an unsuspecting female subject a brown paper bag full of bagels, a lease on a new Hyundai, and to top it all off, the shoes off my feet. The people began to increasingly tune into my show as the gimmicks became more and more outrageous. At once I had become a celebrity, albeit not the type I was accustomed to, but one might say that I was certainly not 'unspectacular' again. But I did not want to stop there. Once I had the eye of this tough Canadian market, that was already full of those considered unique and remarkable, I craved expansion.
Before long, I had expanded my absurd television empire to include a gardening show (Moses and the Lush Greenery that Consumes his Thirst), a cooking show (Moses and the Magic of Deliciousness) and a contortionist show (Moses and his Bendable Entourage). My days in Ottawa as an-average-tall-man-named-Moses were over.
I began to anticipate my time after work more than I ever had before in my well-traveled life. My television work was, of course, done completely pro bono, for the only satisfaction I truly got was the recognition I was met with in the streets. I was beginning to feel my true height once more. With the success of my after-work hobby of Canadian reality television, I was slowly regaining my form as the tallest man in town, and, ladies and gentlemen, the swagger returned.
I quickly became an icon of my own accord to the people who had previously found me generally uninteresting. This relationship with the Canadian population has been maintained successfully throughout my tenure in Ottawa. After my television shows began to (inevitably) lose their appeal, I took the momentum of my fame and began to write a column in the local newspaper. 'From the Desk of Moses Barlow' has been a huge success, allowing the general public a glimpse into the life of a man who, all in a short time, had come unnoticed to their land, taken their television medium by storm, only to disappear behind a pen. My stories and satirical outlook on life and perceptions of the world touched those who follow my weekly article. My fans, I humbly thank you.
The Barlow's are now leaving Ottawa with the feeling that we have truly touched the lives of those around us. But for once in our lives it was not because it was where we were from, it was because of who we are. I shall now continue on my path of international hopscotch, to be met everywhere I go with the fame I had been typically afforded in my previous travels as an exceptionally tall Western man. I feel as though I may never again achieve the satisfaction in regards to my public recognition as I have attained here in Ottawa.
'From the Desk of Moses Barlow' has been maintained scrupulously, an entry never being missed. For a man who has made his mark on the world by being an exceptionally tall and curious Western figure to those who saw me, I prided myself more on the recognition gained under the curtain of authorship. This has been the great ironic accomplishment of Moses Barlow.
Now, dear avid reader, I hope that this brings you closer to understanding the man, the mystery, me. I typically do not get into such detail about myself, but for this special last edition of my poignant column, I felt it would be appropriate for me to do so.
Yours in esteem,
Moses Barlow
Television Mogul/Expert Columnist
User Reviews
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2004-08-20 18:29:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
If you're looking to post hardcore fiction that isn't all that gripping right away, Ubersite isn't the place to get any real feedback. There are only a select few people on this site who have a large enough reputation to get good feedback on fictional stories. Instead, I reccomend you check this place out:
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/indexframe.html
Beware, they are much more intense over there.
Submitted by disAbled (user info) at 2004-08-20 17:56:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Well, you deserve some ratings at least.
This post was boiring and seemed to lack any definite point. Perhaps I do not understand the nuances of Canadian culture enough. The writing was good enough, I just wasn't interested. I did read it all, but only because I think you deserve some forum for this.