Reach for the Moon...even if you miss you'll land in Starbucks....or maybe a Taco Bell.

So let's begin with my disappointment from this past weekend. I was EXTREMELY disappointed on Saturday night. Why? Two words: Taco Bell.

Taco Bell is pretty much the best metaphor for an Indian-American household that I can think of. Spicy, always has a vegetarian option, kinda crowded...all it needs is a nagging middle-aged housewife who wants you to become a doctor and BINGO - you've got home.

Indian Americans love Taco Bell. For a race of people who grew up eating lentils and rice with curry, a bean taco with hot sauce is pretty much the only fast food option we had. After all, McDonalds fries their fries in Pig fat and Pizza Hut puts beef into their "cheese" pizzas sauces. Taco Bell was our meat-free safe haven. We'd roll up in our vans, place orders under the names "Vinny" (for Venkatachalam) or "Allie" (for Rathnamala), stock up on fire sauces, and then run back home to eat dinner while enjoying a show with good family values.

Burger King's Latest attempt to include the Hindu crowd.
Translation: The taste that is sacred.
...Bam! Can you say Distasteful Danish Cartoon ten times fast?

Speaking of family entertainment, guess what show my family sat down to watch every Saturday evening? Actually what two shows would a Hindu, typically democrat and liberal voting, family that speaks Tamil at home, has two Indian citizens, and has parents who both had PhDs watch on Saturday nights?

Guess?

You'll never guess.

a) Touched by an angel. God. I hated that show. Ironic.... that I should say God. Maybe I should say it with the same Irish accent that the main character spoke with.

Plot of each episode? There are people who are
a) drug addicts
b) suicidal
c) criminals
d) prostitutes
e) a partridge in a pear tree
f) all of the above.

and this angel comes to them and says in her gruff and manly (wow...maybe that's what turned me onto guys) voice with an Irish accent "But (fill in name of the poor man who needs saved), Gawd loves you." And that was it. A little bit of ethereal light, some soft background music, water into wine, etc. BAM! You have a born again Christian who has been cured of all his past faults and suddenly with a cleared criminal record. My parents loved it. I was cynical, but my gayness attracted me to Roma Downey's Herbal Essences washed hair and Della Reese's "Big Mamma" character. So I watched it with them. I now feel that I've gained several centuries of Hindu Purgatory time for doing such a sinful act. But even that doesn't compare to the other show we used to watch.

2) Walker. Texas. Ranger.

Yes. Chuck Norris himself whose "married-once, cheated-on-his-wife, divorced, and-remarried" ass had the courage to step up to talk about the sanctity of marriage, was our household guardian angel. We adored him. I even admired him. He was strong, masculine, brave, humerous...(wait a second, I didn't know I liked men back then? What the hell was I thinking.)


Well that's what I thought of him. Now I realize the show had an underlying racist tone with the African-American side kick who was incapable of doing anything with an otherwise whitttttte cast who was always fighting the evil "Arab" terrorists or the "Mexicans" and saving America. Makes me shudder to think of my childhood. But it definitely helps explains my father's reaction to homosexuality. But that's for another time.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah. Taco Bell. So I had expected that in Taco Bell, I would be able to eat the best Mexican Pizzas that I have eaten any where in the US. I expected the flaky, yummy crust, nice and warm, with the oozing beans on the inside and the cheese melted on the outside. And with the huge hispanic population in Florida, I expected there would be some spanishness in the air that might even add to the taste.

What I got was a stale pair or tortilla breads with cold beans inside and dried salsa and cheese on the outside. I couldn't contain my disappointment. I nearly cried in my car for my pasty ass white North Eastern counterparts that would serve me better fake Mexican food. Talk about destruction of childhood. I was more upset by this than when my father told me that Santa Claus came through our space heater since our house didn't have a fire place.

Anyway, I threw it most away.

MORE EXPERIENCES LATER!