The Joke goes: In Heaven the
cooks are French, the policemen are English, the mechanics are German, the
lovers are Italian, and the bankers are Swiss. In Hell, the cooks are English,
the policemen are German, the mechanics are French, the lovers are Swiss, and
the bankers are Italian.
Makes for a good chuckle,
because many people see the irony when stereotyping these nationalities; their strengths, and where they are, um, not as outstanding. Yes, I realize I am on the cusp of being
pointed out as a racist or some other type of bigoted mean spirited fault
finder, but bear with me because it sets up my tale.
During our recent visit to
Barcelona a thought teased me as to those natural characteristics of the
Catalan’s, like other nationalities, where they would really shine. Since I plan to move there I wasn’t looking
for what they didn’t do well, but what they really outshone others at. Over their history, and it’s a long one to be
sure, they’ve shown a resiliency that matches none other I know of. Not
only are they resilient, but they are innovative as well as hardworking; but those qualities are shared by many other nationalities, and those qualities didn’t necessarily make them stand out
so much as to be admired for their stubbornness to not surrender to authorities
who considered them inferior. I myself am part Irish and I was coached since
childhood that stubborness was a virtue for my ancestors. Just as I embraced that along
with a healthy appreciation for alcohol, but that's another story. On this occasion the topic arose
unexpectedly. It was during our walk to find a flower shop my wife’s cousin
suggested we use for their St. Jordi celebration. It’s similar to Valentine’s Day with a slight
twist. The women get a rose, but men get a book from their beloved. It’s lot’s
for fun, and of course if you miss the nudge to participate, you get looked at as
if you’d a stick in the mud.
So we go looking for this
great place. Like any other time, looking
for a location you are unfamilar with requires first off to get your bearings; meaning spot
a street sign, then move out from that known location.
That was when it dawned on me
the Catalonian expertise.
They were natural born
snipers
They had to be.
Because the meager size of
the street signs were impossible to see. Even walking on the opposite side of
the street they were nearly impossible to make out, never mind if one were driving
in traffic. Seeking an address while navigating by street signs was virtually
impossible. These signs are less than eighteen
inched boxes framing scripted letters and numbers. Oh, and it also appears they have not been
replaced or repainted since the time before Franco, and he died in 1975. No kidding, look at
these examples.
One would have to have a hawk’s vision to spot
these signs, yet alone fathom what they said in the mere seconds driving past in
thick traffic. I mean, only someone with
near super-hero vision would be able to spot those little suckers and then make
out what they said.
Oh sure, reason might suggest, people
who live there already know where the streets are, but I’ve lived in towns for
decades and couldn’t tell you where every small street was; sure the major
boulevards but not the side streets. ALL
of the streets have the same size signs hooked on the corners, that happen, more
often than not, obscuring vendor namesake signs in close proximity. Now take those natural vision talents and
apply them to real world work: Snipers.
Every military in the world should employ
Catalonian’s as there special unit snipers.
That’s it, that’s the end of the debate. I cannot fathom anyone with
more accurate visional acuity than those people who live in the bustle of
Barcelona and are able to find shops and addresses they’ve never been. That’d be my wager anyway.
