Suits.
There is something uniquely impressive about the American businessman. It is something in the way they stride, purposefully pulling their roller cases, designed especially for their needs, the sense of import they impart as the flick up the sleeve of their neatly pressed shirts to check the time on their polished watches. I love to listen in as they conduct meetings on their phones, issuing orders, making deals, doing business. I also appreciate their diligence and commitment to multitasking, unable or willing to simply look out the window and watch the planes the roll in, instead in a constant flutter of phone and laptop. I smile at the way they rush, only to get stuck in the same lines and stalling points as the vacationers with nothing better to do than toddle slowly through the terminals. The United States was built on the backs of men like these, determined, ambitious, driven forward, towards success, power, and promised wealth. I wonder though, about their health, their hearts furiously pumping, the veins in their temples always visibly pulsing. And I wander about their happiness, if their diligence can purchase joy or a life well-lived. I wonder, if born to a different time or place, a different set of expectations and ambitions, what they might do, or who they might become. I wonder, if released from these things, would it still be business as usual?
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