America, Ewe Could Do Better

Yesterday, I walked past what in America could pass for a “strike,” but was really just four people banging out their grievances in a funky rhythm on the bottoms of plastic buckets. As Nob Hill building attendants, they were protesting their working conditions (longer hours without getting more pay – hey, sounds a lot like the dotcom world). I was hauling three heavy grocery bags and had no free hands, yet the protesters insisted on slipping me a flier (I had to practically grab it with my chin). I felt sad for them and their J.V. display. Have I become a manif snob since living in France, the Promised Land of Protests?

I mean, just recently there was a farmers’ demonstration in Paris over falling incomes due to the global economic crisis (who isn’t hurting these days?), and it culminated in a herd of sheep getting trotted out under the Eiffel Tower. (Credit goes to my friend E-rock for alerting me to the fabulous photo pictured at left.) WOW! Now that’s a protest! Nothing says beleaguered workers filled with self-righteous indignation like a bunch of slack-eyed sheep. Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. And here I thought America was the country with all the bells and whistles.