Down A Notch

The other day I was in downtown LA. I had finished improv practice, and decided before I went home that I would visit the nearby bookstore as I have before. On the way to that bookstore (where I bought another seven VHS tapes) and on the way from it to the subway station, I saw an awful lot of what looked like protesters. Indeed, I saw more of them even after I'd gotten off the subway back in my own neighborhood of North Hollywood.

They were carrying signs that appeared to signal their dislike of the Monsanto corporation. This is one of those things that I don't understand as well as I ought to, but many people probably do not let that get in the way of taking action. Anyway, I gather that people don't care for the genetic modification of what becomes their food. It seems less simple than that or than these people make it out to be, but I don't say they're wrong. They're probably more right than wrong.

I think I have reached a point of, if not apathy, then weariness with this sort of thing. In college, I might have joined them, if only for some temporary camaraderie approaching friendship. These days, I have enough friends without marching or chanting, and my level of devotion to the cause obviously isn't enough. I found myself rather impatient with the crowds of people on the street, no more allowing for their right to clog the sidewalk than I would a lot of hayseed tourists from Iowa.

I found myself asking why they couldn't just go home. I don't really like that I would feel that way. I've never supported the deriding of other people's passions just because they are not one's own. I think a person should let someone who cares deeply about something have it instead of trying to destroy it or their interest in it. I guess I lived up to my principle inasmuch as I did not voice my crabby opposition to the protesters' dedication to their mission. I kept it to myself, and I hope I may expect the same courtesy someday.