Discoverer, explorer, bad roommate!

Wednesday, October 8, 1997

Discoverer, explorer, bad roommate!

COLUMBUS: Living with modern conqueror sheds light on symbol who
took passion to extremes

Columbus Day is next Monday. Controversial guy, Columbus. When
we were kids, he was supposed to be our hero, a symbol of
audaciousness, determination and the willingness to challenge
established beliefs. Nowadays, he’s just the opposite: a symbol of
imperialism, religious zealotry and really poor navigational
skills.

You don’t know Columbus. I know Columbus. Actually, he was my
roommate when I was an undergrad. So I can tell you: the guy’s a
total jerk!

The first sign of trouble occurred one morning when he was
taking forever in the bathroom. So naturally I knocked. "Chris, are
you going to be in there much longer?"

"I claim this bathroom in the name of the king and queen of
Spain!"

Oh, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, no big deal –
we’ve all had roommates who claimed the bathroom in the name of the
king and queen of Spain. Well, maybe so. But I’m telling you, this
guy was not normal. He would plant the Spanish flag in the toilet
and things like that.

"C’mon out now, Chris, I need a shave!"

"Kneel before the cross!"

"I don’t want to kneel before the cross. I just want to get a
shave!"

And it was the same thing over dinner. Sure, he could make
killer spaghetti. But it was always, "I claim this pork chop in the
name of the king and queen of Spain!" That sort of thing. God, I
hated it when he did that.

Oh, I could be flexible about small things. Like he wouldn’t let
me call him "Chris," it had to be "Lord Admiral of the Ocean Sea."
Fine. I’m open-minded.

And then there were those pouffy pants he always wore. But hey,
that’s his lifestyle choice. I’m tolerant. Really.

But I swear, you couldn’t even have a simple conversation with
the guy. He’d come home and I’d be reading the newspaper, and I
would try to be nice, you know?

I would look up from my paper and say, "So, Chris – I mean, Lord
Admiral of the Ocean Sea – what did you do today?"

"I discovered Culver City!"

I sighed and hid in my paper. "Um, you can’t discover Culver
City. There are people living there already."

"Savages. I made them kneel before the cross!"

"Listen, Chris, um, you didn’t exterminate the indigenous
population again, did you?"

"Well, I …"

"Diiid yooou?"

"Well, maybe a little."

"What do you mean, a little? You can’t exterminate the
indigenous population a little! Either you do or you don’t."

Forget about going anywhere with him. If we went anywhere, I had
to drive. When he drove, we always got lost. "Chris, do you know
where we are now?"

"We are in India."

"No Chris, we’re not in India. We’re on the 405 Freeway."

"It is India!" He always thought it was India.

"We’re on the 405. It says right here on the map …"

"Treasonous sailor! I will cut out your mutinous tongue!"

I see Columbus as a person – an annoying person – but still a
person. To most people, he’s always been a symbol and nothing else.
Nowadays, he’s useful as a symbol of Western civilization’s greed
and racism, and our arrogant belief in our own cultural
superiority. The funny thing is that, a hundred years ago, he was
(ironically) just the opposite. He was a forgotten historical
footnote until the 19th century, when large numbers of Southern
Europeans immigrated to the United States and experienced the usual
discrimination. Americans elevated Columbus because he was Italian
and making him a national hero was seen as a blow for racial
tolerance. But now we’re taught that Columbus Day is an evil
celebration of racial superiority, not racial equality. Go
figure.

So we have completely revised history, but Columbus is still a
symbol and not a man.

You know what I think about Columbus, the person? I think he
didn’t give a shit about converting the Indians. I don’t think he
cared about the gold either. He had to get it to finance his
explorations, but he wasn’t out to amass wealth for its’ own
sake.

No, I think he wanted to explore and keep exploring. It was the
only thing he was good at, his only real passion and he died still
planning new expeditions. Everything else he did (like enslaving
the Arawak Indians; I’ll spare you the grisly details) was a means
toward that end. He was addicted to exploring, like these idiots
addicted to extreme skiing who go flying off cliffs drinking
Naya.

He was an Italian sailing under the Spanish flag, a rootless man
who had no home because he could not have a home.

How do I know all this? Because he broke his lease, that’s why!
My roommate Columbus, that bastard, broke his lease! I came home
one day, and there he was, loading all his stuff into the
U-haul.

"I leave to discover new lands. Here, help me load my futon into
the Santa Maria!"

"It’s a U-haul. Listen, Chris, you can’t do this. You have to
give 30 days notice and …"

"I have to discover new lands!" He was gone.

A pathetic figure. I can’t hate the man; I feel too sorry for
him. Considering the awful things he did, if other people were to
hate him, it would be understandable. But I don’t think God
requires it of us.

Frank Pettit