Kaus's Dystopia

In Kaus’s dystopia, for breakfast we go to the neighborhood bodega where a bunch of guys are standing around, drinking coffee, and talking about the Mexican soccer team. The place sells bacon, cheese, and egg sandwiches – when they are cooking bacon you can smell it from three blocks away. If you want you can have a guava juice.

In Kaus’s dystopia, the big debate is salsa vs. merengue. The city council representative speaks Spanish, and when she shows up to campaign at the farmer’s market down the road her English has a slight accent.

In Kaus’s dystopia, the star pitcher on the baseball team is Dominican. A sensitive guy, he’s been known to cry and to throw at people’s heads. The sluggers are from Latin America as well. They are going to the playoffs; perhaps they will roll.

In Kaus’s dystopia, folks run a little local garden, where they hang out and chat. The garden has azaleas, tulips, sunflowers, and a cherry tree, each blooming according to the season.

Kaus’s dystopia is my neighborhood. His worries about a transformed America come years after the transformation happened, and a brief look around would suggest that it’s not a bad place at all.

I don't like it when people try to mess it up.