Who Are You?

When I meet somebody at a party  or social event and they ask ‘Who  are you?’ I consider that a perfectly legitimate conversational opener, and I introduce myself and/or give them my whole life story, depending on the mood  of the moment.
If somebody answers my Facebook friend request with ‘Who are you?,’ I still consider that legitimate because they’ve got a right to know.  Some people are very selective about who they talk to, and some people have a good reason to be.  Some people have been burned, and are cautious.  So, I tell them who I am.

But, when you’re in the middle of a discussion, a healthy exchange of ideas, as it were, and somebody says ‘who are you?,’ it feels more like ‘who the fuck are you to make a comment on  this’ and it’s messed up.
The background: the conversation was one British person berating another British person for having  an opinion  on the Roseanne Barr situation, and he genuinely seemed upset that somebody should have an opinion on something happening in a different country.  So, I jumped in  to say it’s one world and everybody should feel free to comment on any aspect of it and, as an example, pointed out that despite being American, I comment on Brexit all the time. (I think Brexit is stupid)
That’s when I got the ‘who are you?’ comment.
Well, I didn’t respond directly (I have the blog, haha!), partly because I didn’t feel like engaging with a xenophobic twatwaffle, and partly because maybe him and the other person are friends in real life and just like slagging each other off on Facebook and I just jumped into the crossfire.
That’s it.  That’s the  whole story.  I  thought I would have more to  say about that.

Anyway, tomorrow morning, bright and early, we are leaving for  Croatia.  We’ll  take two days to drive down, spend a week or so,  and then amble slowly back.  The place we’re staying says they have wi-fi, so I should be able to continue with the blog, but it’s a vacation, so if I skip a day just because I feel like it, well, that’s O.K., too.

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