Where Do I Belong?

I was born in New York City. So were my parents, and their parents. To the best of my knowledge, all of my great-grandparents were born overseas. A very limited number of countries were involved, but I have never had any connection with any of them, except that I have visited Germany twice (two great-grandparents were born there).

I was a baby in Rosedale, Borough of Queens, out by Idlewild Airport. After a year or so we moved to the north shore of Queens, right on the East River, close to La Guardia Airport. I attended the local Catholic grammar school and a nearby Catholic high school. I had a New York City address and a New York drivers' license when I joined the Navy and when I was discharged (Honorable). I returned home, and resumed my life as a New Yorker. I attended the City University of New York, and I got married in New York City. Our first son was born in New York City. I received five of the seven sacraments in our local Catholic church.

You hardly notice how terrible the New York weather is until you are about twenty. Before that, it's the weather that you know, so you're used to it, and young people are not bothered by extremes of weather anyway. Hot? Okay, it's hot, so what? Cold? You hardly feel the cold until you are fully grown. It's that “fires of youth burn hot” thing. Snow is fun when you are a kid, you get days off from school, the cold is nothing, it's all fun and games! It all hits you suddenly in your mid-twenties. The cold hurts; the extreme heat and humidity are annoying; you have to get to work; you have to get your kids to school, if school is open; you probably have to drive around in whatever kind of weather presents itself. At that point, for many of us, the fun is over, the spell is broken. I had spent countless hours in all of the great museums, and I had enjoyed hundreds of movies that one cannot find on view in other places, and I had had my fill of big buildings and all of that, and it was time to go. Time for the entire family to go to a place where just running a simple family life wasn't so Goddamned hard.

I had seen San Diego, California as a sailor, and my wife had visited Los Angeles. We had both seen California at the height of winter. It's about eighty degrees during the daylight hours, with the palm trees and the beautiful ocean and everything. The last straw for us was visiting the school where our son was about to start Kindergarten. It looked like a prison. There was heavy protective grating on all of the windows, and the school yard was full of broken glass. That night we had a serious talk and decided, yeah, California, let's allow the boy to start Kindergarten in Los Angeles. We decided on Los Angeles because it was the easiest city to come down on your feet and hit the ground running, making a living beginning in the first week or ten days. It turned out just that way.

That move occurred in the mid-1970s, and since that time I have not held a New York drivers' license, nor any other kind of New York license. I have never owned real property in New York. Since that move, I have neither had a New York address, nor have I paid any New York taxes or utility bills. After that it was California all the way.

I immediately obtained a California drivers' license and began to pay California utilities and California taxes. We very quickly bought a home, and I owned real property in California for almost forty years. I attended law school and obtained a license to practice law in California. I still have it. I also still have my California drivers' license. I have not, however, resided in California for about twelve years.

During this last period my residence has been in Thailand. I travel on a current United States passport. I observe all of the legal niceties, possessing up to date visas and work permits. I own a condominium in Bangkok. I am married to a Thai woman. I have not applied for permanent resident status, and I have no present intention to apply for Thai citizenship. I am trusting, in other words, that I will be allowed to remain in Thailand on one kind of visa or another for the remainder of my life. When the day comes that I am no longer working, I qualify easily for either a married-to-a-Thai-national visa or a retirement visa.

All of this is beginning to feel somewhat problematic. I am beginning to wonder if there is too much trust involved. In my darkest hours I become afraid that I may become stateless. The world in general, and so many governments in particular, are changing very quickly, in ways that do not necessarily favor an individual in my situation. I am lucky to have a few bucks, but I have nowhere near enough money to open all doors with a smile.

I do receive Social Security benefits, so they at least believe me to be an American citizen, and a particular American citizen at that. I lost my Social Security card forty years ago, but they still recognize me. They know where I reside; I get mail from them that is sent to my Bangkok address. My residence is not a problem under current rules. (Underline CURRENT RULES.)

I have no meaningful ties with New York at this point.

I am still on the roles of California lawyers. The California Bar Association also lists my Bangkok address on their web site. That must qualify as a connection with the state, but will it be enough for me to renew my drivers' license?

As so often happens, I am worrying too much about this. I should be fine. I have already renewed my passport at the local American Embassy. I suppose that I can dummy up an address for a California drivers' license when the time comes. I worry, though, because I have never been adept at reading the tea leaves in such matters. I am too often surprised when the ice starts cracking under my shoes. And those are only the potential legal problems. There's an emotional component here as well.

Where the hell do I belong? If you listened to me speak one English sentence, you would ask me, “so, what part of New York are you from?” My accent, vocabulary, and attitude in general are very New York. That's “Noo Yawk” for those of us who know what's up, doc. It's been twenty years since I set foot in the place, though. By now I'd just walk around with my head on a swivel complaining about the prices like some hayseed.

I lived in California longer than I did in New York, and if I were to return to the 'States I'd prefer to live in California, but there's no way that I could afford it. I'd be lucky to sustain life in a trailer up in Death Valley, and between my typical old man medical bills and the need to buy medical insurance for my handicapped Thai wife I'd go completely broke in short order.

That leaves Thailand, and luckily I do like it here. Things are amazingly affordable. My Thai has gotten to the point that Thai people can actually understand most of what I say in Thai, as long as the subject under discussion is simple. That's fine; that's where most conversations live. I've started to study again, wishing to expand my vocabulary and improve my reading skills. There are a great many foreigners here, most with Thai wives and many also having dependent Thai children. We are most often a boost to our local economies. Most Thai people are anything but xenophobic. They tolerate foreigners very well. It's a crossroads country, so they've been inundated with foreigners for thousand of years already. If we, the foreigners, learn to smile, be polite, speak a bit, and respect monks and the royal family, we are probably okay.

I'm starting to feel like a citizen of the world, but I don't think that there is any recognized paperwork for that as yet. I believe that I could make a good argument for that status. My experience of the world has spanned the globe. I speak German, and I have studied German in Germany and on another occasion visited my ex-wife's family there. My German is rusty, but I can still easily speak with German or Austrian tourists or airline seatmates when the opportunity arises. Even my German grammar is still okay. Thai is a tonal language, and I can assure you that the tones will kick your ass for a few years. I've been here fifteen years now, if you include my two Peace Corps years before I finally moved back. Many foreigners speak better Thai than I do, but many more can hardly speak at all. I'm doing okay, and I get a full measure of credit for it. Even my English has profited greatly by my Thai experience. I've done a lot of editing of academic papers to smooth out the broken English and make it read like native English.

Getting through these last stages of life is never easy, but I've got a good chance to make it okay. Just avoid the worst and it'll all work out. Avoid the worst medical results; avoid serious accidents; avoid political upheaval; keep coastal flooding at bay; stay out of trouble.

I just need to pay attention, I suppose. Wish me luck.