Magic Scallions

Sometimes at work, you just want to go back to bed. When uber designer tells me that she is sleepy, I ask her if she is hungry and poor. When uber designer tells me that she is hungry, I ask her if she is tired and poor. Because it says on our gift from France, The Statue of Liberty (her official address is 1 Communipaw Ave., Jersey City, NJ):

“Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” -The New Colossus, by Emma Lazarus

My mom took me to Lady Liberty when I was little, a few years after her immigration to the U.S. We climbed to the top. Unfortunately, this is no longer possible as it looks like she will be closed indefinitely due to security concerns regarding access patterns inside the statue. Getting into the United States is like getting into that hyped up plush “chic” overly expensive club. They keep a long line outside, maybe because the club is full, maybe because a line outside makes it more attractive, or maybe the people who are inside just want to be elitist to make themselves feel more important. If you know somebody, you can just skip the line and go right on in. The people who have never had to wait on line, do not know the struggles of those who have. Finally after you get in, you are treated to an extravagant display of atmosphere and decor, only to realize you cannot afford the expensive drinks, goods, and services. Like bottles of seasoning for $8.99 with hilariously clever names.