If you ever doubt how wimpy, thin-skinned, and oversensitive our culture has become, just hang out with some Aussies for a few days.
It has been said that traveling to Australia is like going back in time one or two generations in the United States. The Australian culture has evolved and progressed just as any other first-world nation, but with a decided lack of political correctness. If you ask an Australian what he or she thinks about a certain subject, brace yourself for the truth.
For example, I once witnessed a pretty young lady make the mistake of asking an Australian male the age-old question, "Does this bathing suit make me look fat?"
Without missing a beat he replied, in his best Aussie-ese, "Nah, mate - the bathing suit doesn't make you look fat; your cellulite makes you look fat."
I've come to determine that the source of this crassness is as simple as recognizing that day-to-day survival is not guaranteed in Australia, even today. Theirs is an island-continent that is permanently under threat of uncontrollable wildfires, severe flooding, paralyzing drought, or any combination thereof. Literally, entire towns that don't receive a drop of rain can be flooded out, due to water washing downstream from a flood zone. Conversely, the skies can deny Australian farmers rain, for multiple months on end. At any given time, entire industries in Australia are on the verge of being wiped out by Mother Nature.
As if this is not enough, the wildlife feels compelled to join in. An adult male kangaroo, if threatened, will stand on its tail and slice a man open with its rear feet. Koalas, although cute and cuddly, are as vicious as badgers. Not to mention snakes - a tiger snake, one of the world's top 10 most venomous, will actually chase you if startled.
My friend Belinda once told me that she loses sleep at night, thinking about her boys wandering through the brush, coming upon a tiger snake. In such a scenario, the snake might chase - and inevitably outrun - the young children. After that, antivenin had better be minutes away.
All of these threats, when combined, are the perfect ingredients to creating a culture that just simply cannot be bothered with the inconvenience of being politically correct. There are too many other, real-world problems to deal with.
Having mentioned all of that, you might understand my trepidation upon arriving at our next destination, the epicenter of political correctness: Washington, D.C.
On the one hand, I was genuinely excited to show my international friends the nation's capitol. What an incredible history lesson, all within short walking distance. There was the Washington Monument, an everlasting symbol to the precariousness of the nation's founding - troops under Washington's command marched barefoot during winter, and were still able to defeat the British. We took the time to read Abraham Lincoln's words, and reflected on the leadership that was required to heal such a divided nation. I loved asking them questions like, "Over there is the Thomas Jefferson monument. Do you know who that was?" Of course, all of this was new to the Aussies; it would be like asking an American about the achievements of Harold Holt.
On the other hand, we were still in Washington, D.C. I was afraid something might happen when the two worlds collided, and sure enough it did. We were walking through a park when Lachlan, aged 14, did something.
I cannot tell you what he did. I would love to tell you, but literally, I am sitting here at my laptop trying to think of a way to write it - I cannot. Nothing good would come of publishing the occurrence, so please believe me when I say: Lachlan did something that was probably not appropriate.
I saw it happen out of the corner of my eye. I gasped, and was about to call him out, when it became obvious that a D.C. native had spotted Lachlan's deed. The spindly, effeminate character was right there, and had seen the whole thing. "Here we go," I thought, expecting a confrontation. I turned toward the guy, faced him head-on, and locked eyes.
Had this exchange occurred in Australia, the affected party would have directly called out Lachlan's behavior. Bizarrely, we may exchange shoves and insults, but the confrontation inevitably would escalate to a series of beers at the nearest pub. I'd walk away with a new friend. That's what would have happened in Australia. No joke - I speak from experience.
In D.C., the insulted party, seeing my stance, let out an equestrian snort and simply stomped away. So comical was the drama that I almost laughed. No doubt, he went straight to his laptop to blog about how angry he was. Because, as you know, nothing screams manliness quite like whining to a bunch of sycophants via narcissistic social media sites like Facebook.
I turned to Lachlan and breathed, "Dude - you can't do things like that here." With a look of utter astonishment and bewilderment he replied, "Do what? Why not?"
The funny thing was, I didn't know why not, other than it might offend someone.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Tuesday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
It has been said that traveling to Australia is like going back in time one or two generations in the United States. The Australian culture has evolved and progressed just as any other first-world nation, but with a decided lack of political correctness. If you ask an Australian what he or she thinks about a certain subject, brace yourself for the truth.
For example, I once witnessed a pretty young lady make the mistake of asking an Australian male the age-old question, "Does this bathing suit make me look fat?"
Without missing a beat he replied, in his best Aussie-ese, "Nah, mate - the bathing suit doesn't make you look fat; your cellulite makes you look fat."
I've come to determine that the source of this crassness is as simple as recognizing that day-to-day survival is not guaranteed in Australia, even today. Theirs is an island-continent that is permanently under threat of uncontrollable wildfires, severe flooding, paralyzing drought, or any combination thereof. Literally, entire towns that don't receive a drop of rain can be flooded out, due to water washing downstream from a flood zone. Conversely, the skies can deny Australian farmers rain, for multiple months on end. At any given time, entire industries in Australia are on the verge of being wiped out by Mother Nature.
As if this is not enough, the wildlife feels compelled to join in. An adult male kangaroo, if threatened, will stand on its tail and slice a man open with its rear feet. Koalas, although cute and cuddly, are as vicious as badgers. Not to mention snakes - a tiger snake, one of the world's top 10 most venomous, will actually chase you if startled.
My friend Belinda once told me that she loses sleep at night, thinking about her boys wandering through the brush, coming upon a tiger snake. In such a scenario, the snake might chase - and inevitably outrun - the young children. After that, antivenin had better be minutes away.
All of these threats, when combined, are the perfect ingredients to creating a culture that just simply cannot be bothered with the inconvenience of being politically correct. There are too many other, real-world problems to deal with.
Having mentioned all of that, you might understand my trepidation upon arriving at our next destination, the epicenter of political correctness: Washington, D.C.
On the one hand, I was genuinely excited to show my international friends the nation's capitol. What an incredible history lesson, all within short walking distance. There was the Washington Monument, an everlasting symbol to the precariousness of the nation's founding - troops under Washington's command marched barefoot during winter, and were still able to defeat the British. We took the time to read Abraham Lincoln's words, and reflected on the leadership that was required to heal such a divided nation. I loved asking them questions like, "Over there is the Thomas Jefferson monument. Do you know who that was?" Of course, all of this was new to the Aussies; it would be like asking an American about the achievements of Harold Holt.
On the other hand, we were still in Washington, D.C. I was afraid something might happen when the two worlds collided, and sure enough it did. We were walking through a park when Lachlan, aged 14, did something.
I cannot tell you what he did. I would love to tell you, but literally, I am sitting here at my laptop trying to think of a way to write it - I cannot. Nothing good would come of publishing the occurrence, so please believe me when I say: Lachlan did something that was probably not appropriate.
I saw it happen out of the corner of my eye. I gasped, and was about to call him out, when it became obvious that a D.C. native had spotted Lachlan's deed. The spindly, effeminate character was right there, and had seen the whole thing. "Here we go," I thought, expecting a confrontation. I turned toward the guy, faced him head-on, and locked eyes.
Had this exchange occurred in Australia, the affected party would have directly called out Lachlan's behavior. Bizarrely, we may exchange shoves and insults, but the confrontation inevitably would escalate to a series of beers at the nearest pub. I'd walk away with a new friend. That's what would have happened in Australia. No joke - I speak from experience.
In D.C., the insulted party, seeing my stance, let out an equestrian snort and simply stomped away. So comical was the drama that I almost laughed. No doubt, he went straight to his laptop to blog about how angry he was. Because, as you know, nothing screams manliness quite like whining to a bunch of sycophants via narcissistic social media sites like Facebook.
I turned to Lachlan and breathed, "Dude - you can't do things like that here." With a look of utter astonishment and bewilderment he replied, "Do what? Why not?"
The funny thing was, I didn't know why not, other than it might offend someone.
- Dan Wegmueller of Monroe writes a column for the Times each Tuesday. He can be reached at dwegs@tds.net.
