Momnesia

Do You Think Marx Cares?

I was making conversation with a lady while we were waiting in line at the grocery store. Both of us had our children with us, and we were cooing at them while they made friends. "Hey der dada," Emerson said, as she does to everyone. I will hold the woman's name because she is a teacher in Columbia County.

"And what does your husband do?" I asked. Now, I am aware that this question is sometimes used as a measure of social worth, but this was - rather obviously, I thought - not how I meant it.

She laughed derisively: "I think it's bourgeoisie of you to assume that I have a husband," she said.

Blink. blinkblink. blink.

"Well, would you rather I were proletariat about it?" I asked, and turned my back to her as I waited for the cashier to finish with the customer in front of me.

It was obvious that she meant it as an insult, but the term "bourgeoisie" is most often used by upper crusters looking down their noses at the middle class. She is middle class. The term is less frequently used by Communists and Socialists as an insult against middle class members whom they do not respect because they are of the opinion that they don't work for a living. Yet, again, she is middle class. Between the two of us, I am the proletariat.

Perhaps she was attacking middle class values. Maybe she has an alternative superhero hiding under those ubiquitous khakis and pastel button-down. It is possible that she has secret tattoos, and facial piercings to remove before she goes to work. She might tell people her child's name is Jennifer, when she was actually named Joyous Thunder by the charismatic head of the matriarchal polygamous cult of which they are a member.

All that would be fine... if she hadn't been wearing a wedding ring.