I am the mother of four and grandmother of six and I too am tired of this battle between legal and illegal immigrants.  The last time I checked, the word “illegal” was synonymous with the word “wrong.”  However, I would not call myself an educated woman and therefore am not qualified to tell our government what to do.

My husband Paul IS an educated man and often does tell our government officials how they should do their jobs, which has gotten him in many an argument and almost a night in jail once.  These close calls have only encouraged him to work harder at getting his voice heard.  Just the other day he said to me, “Diane, if the government chickens would stop searching for the best seeds and cheeses, they would see that the farmer has already spread the delicious chicken seed on the ground for them.”  Paul always likes to use metaphors when he is trying to get his point across.  He says that it paints a picture more colorful than a straightforward black and white finger painting would.

Paul has never been one to complain about immigration, whether it be legal or not.  He absolutely loves the foreigners that he encounters, and aside from a teenager named Chester from Papua New Guinea, he has enjoyed speaking to everyone he has met.  The incident with this Chester fellow was an unfortunate occurrence that took place while Paul was working one summer for Hot Dog on a Stick.  He and Chester worked almost everyday together and at first it seemed like they would get along fine.

The problem started when Chester began telling Paul about his home country.  He spent most of the afternoons telling Paul how beautiful it was there; how there wasn’t any income tax; how the people loved to water-ski; how dolphins would often become beached on the sandy shores; how Farrah Fawcett was from there (which we still think to this day is a lie); how the hot dogs there tasted so much better than American hot dogs; and how cranberries were invented there.

Even though Chester was a little annoying and talked way too much about his homeland, Paul was able to suppress his anger enough to fulfill his duties at work in a timely manner.  It wasn’t until a few months later that Paul realized that he genuinely disliked Chester and somehow needed to find a way to make enough money to send he and his family back to their home. 

One day during his lunch break, while Paul was eating his hot dog on a stick, Chester came in and noticed that Paul had bitten into the stick holding the hot dog.  He told Paul to be careful because it looked like he had bitten off a piece of the stick.  Paul told him that he didn’t mind and that he usually ate the stick because it tasted like a wooden tree and that he likes the taste of wood and trees.  This started an argument between the two about trees and wood and what was edible and what wasn’t.  Paul claimed it was the same as eating the cone after the ice cream was gone, but Chester wouldn’t have it.  The argument went on for quite awhile and ended with Chester calling Paul “tree eater” in New Guinese and Paul threatening to eat all the wood from Chester’s house.

The following weeks were mildly unpleasant, as Paul and Chester refused to talk to each other.  It was evident that their anger was festering inside, because the customers began complaining to their manager about the downgrade in service and cornmeal consistency.

A few weeks later, Paul had what he calls the most disgustingly wonderful idea he had ever had at that point in his idea career.  The day he received his next paycheck, he went straight to the pet store and bought as many guinea pigs as his check would buy (which was 21).  That night before Chester closed up the store, Paul placed all 21 guinea pigs inside his car and left a note on the window that said, “I thought that these would make you feel more at home.”

Paul was pleased with himself and began thinking that his little prank had ended their conflicts.  That is, until the next morning when he showed up for work and saw how Chester had retaliated.  He put up a new sign that read, “Try Our New Special…the 2x4 deluxe!” and under the sign was a picture of Paul eating a few hot dog sticks with mustard on them.  Paul was obviously unaware that the picture was ever taken and immediately ripped it down.

It didn’t take long for both Paul and Chester to get fired from their jobs.  In fact, Paul never saw Chester again until one day they ran into each other at Chevron in Santa Monica.  Paul said he wasn’t going to say anything until he heard Chester ask the clerk if they were all out of “tree snacks.”  Paul was beginning to panic because he couldn’t think of any way to get him back.  He knew he had to act fast because Chester was going to pay for his gas and leave, so he did the only thing that he could think of at that exact moment.  He walked over to the front counter where Chester was standing, put his arms straight up in the air, and yelled, “DON’T SHOOT...HE’S GOT A GUN!”  Everyone in the Chevron instantly put their hands up as well.  Paul then slowly backed his way to the door, turned around, got in his car and went home.

The next day there was a little blurb about the incident in the police blotter, but nothing major happened.  The article categorized it as a slight misunderstanding and Chester was let go.

Whenever there is talk of foreigners or illegal immigrants on the news now, Paul retells his story about how he now tolerates “foreign Americans.”  Just the other day he said, “Diane, America is really our precious treasure…and we are the ones in charge of finding a chest, making sure the treasure sparkles and burying it when needed.”  I thought that it was a beautiful metaphor, which detailed our situation today perfectly.  That is why Paul is on the phone right now trying to get through to the Governor.