I had a dream once, a couple years ago. In the dream I was standing in line at the grocery store and a tall, droopy man with a newsboy cap and a trench coat with an unlit Capri cigarette dangling from his lips was standing in front of me. He proceeded to let several people go ahead of him, even though they had just as many items as we did. In the dream I was furious that he would do that without asking me first. I was so furious that my rage woke me up and I couldn’t get back to sleep.
Maybe only smokers or ex-smokers would get how funny the cigarette part is. This from Wikipedia:
Capri is a brand of cigarette manufactured by R.J. Reynolds. Introduced in 1987, it is the first widely-available cigarette having an extremely slim shape, at 17 mm in circumference and 100 mm in length, specifically marketed towards women as a way to increase or enhance their sexual appeal. By comparison, standard cigarettes are 25 mm in circumference, and slim cigarettes are 21 mm in circumference. Capri is available in regular and menthol light varieties, as well as regular and menthol ultra-light varieties. Capri is also available in a 120 mm length, which the packaging describes as “luxury length.”
And this oh-so-sexually-appealing vision from the website…ahem…wait for it now…morningcigarette.com, taken in 1993:
Who is that lady with the brown tights and the super slim cigarette? you might find yourself softly murmuring as you read this blog. And did people really wear those hats in 1993? I doesn’t feel like that long ago, really.
Anyway. Back to reality and to the real pertinent question at hand: Why was Andy Capp gumming a super slim and letting people cut in front of me in my dream? And why did I remember the feeling of deep anger two years later, so strongly that I had to go and find where I wrote it all down so that I could post it here?
Here’s a secret…When I was 16 I found a pack of Capri cigarettes on the floor in the mall. It was under one of those circle rack things that they hang clothes on. I have no idea how I happened to be sniffin’ around on the floor under a clothes rack at the mall…maybe I was looking for money? Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. I took them home and smoked them and became addicted to nicotine, developing a habit it would take me more than 15 years (on and off) to shake.
I was embarrassed to smoke the Capris, those skinny things, in front of anyone, so I did it in “the old playhouse” at my parents. So much for sex appeal…sneaking off to the glorified shed full of ancient looms and undiscovered Pollock paintings and broken kiddie pools and god-knows-whatever-else was in that little be-shingled troll dwelling to crouch under the broken and tarped window, puffing on a 17 mm, trying desperately to look like James Dean. I’m sure I didn’t.
So the Capri cigarette, possibly a symbol of emasculation (for lack of better term). The droopy fellow (I forgot to mention he had chapped lips too) letting people into the line who didn’t earn the right to be there, like I had, perhaps a symbol of powerlessness. And my fury at him…that probably represented my fury at the unfairness of whatever was eating me at the time. And what did that fury bring me in the end? A sleepless night. A funny story to tell at work. A psychological indication of my fear of being taken advantage of, taken for a fool, left without recourse…
I’ve been thinking about Egypt. And power. I’ve been thinking about microcosms. I’ve been thinking about forgiveness and fury and angry dictators who have ruled my life, made me powerless. I know how good it feels to be in love and how crappy it feels to be angry. But we can’t always choose to be be happy, because people do things that aren’t fair. I think we can, however, trust that good will eventually prevail because it is just the teeeeniest bit stronger than hate…although at times they appear to be neck and neck.
Gandhi said this:
When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it–always. (from here)
Martin Luther King Jr. said this:
I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality… I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. (from here)
I believe inherently what these men said. We all watch the news wondering “what will happen? what can I do?” I realized that ask myself these same questions every day, only in a different, smaller format from various positions in the conflict. I have 25 students at school. In what ways to I treat them as my servants? In what ways do I teach them freedom? I have a boss who tells me things to do in my classroom. Do I do what he says? Where do I choose to exert or give away my own power in my own controlled life situations? What I can do is to seek out my own inner dictator and remind her of some things. What I can do is find the places where my voice is weak and do my very best to gently turn up the volume.
Sometimes Andy Capp will be there with his chapped lips and his effeminate cigarette making me crazy. And sometimes…well, sometimes he won’t.
Go Egypt, go…
One Foot Walking 