Jordanian Downtown Trip

If I were to name my favorite movie I would have to choose the bee movie, the comedy and characters are so likable and goofy, and there are so many quotable scenes, this one is my favorite: A  ccording to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Ooming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Oan you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing

      I thought as if I were writing a narrative on my way home, and the thought stuck with me like an adhesive throughout the drive home and beyond:”America, a mongrel nation of sorts, being built off of the ethnicities, formed by the immigrants that pulled it together, fixated by them, and weaved together like the quilts of fabric sewn together by the people of American ancestry.     Here I was trying to get comfortable in my own mattress,and as if I were monologging I thad thought to my self “ America is a melting pot.” though only five continuous words, they were enough for me to reach something of an epiphany. America’s identity of immigrants was something i found in common between all the stories and narratives i have read over time, and thus the idea became clear. I got up into a sitting position at the foot of my bed, and thought some more, then I remembered a quote from a work of Anna Quindlen’s “A Quilt of a Country”: “A mongrel nation…” which only heightened my curiosity, an