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peterparker-pickedapepper · 3 years

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Always You

(Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Stark!Reader)

Chapter 01

A/N: this is set during Homecoming (and eventually FFH) in a universe where Tony isn’t ☠️ bc we don’t acknowledge that trauma here 🙂 also, there are elements from the comics and the older movies, but it’s still in the MCU

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I never meant to find it.

And I wasn’t being nosy either. It was my dads fault, really. Okay so yes, I wasn’t supposed to be in his workshop. But is it my fault he just leaves important things lying around? Mom’s told him to keep it tidy enough times you think it’d be engrained in his brain.

Anyway, the how isn’t important. Not even the why matters. It’s everything that came after.

It was the day my world began falling apart.

The moment I lost all trust—all respect—for the two men closest to my heart.

Now that I know their secret, I don’t see how I’ll be able to look them in the eye. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to keep my head up, act as normal as possible...

And see how long it takes for them to tell me themselves.

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Three Months Earlier

“I’m here on the corner of fifth and main, just a street away from the reported sighting of a flying man causing panic among the locals.”

Y/N adjusted her fingers around the smooth base of the microphone, her skin slipping against the hard plastic. It wasn’t nerves causing the dampness on her palms, but excitement. Her eyes flickered from the camera lens pointed in her direction to her best friend standing behind it before easily finding their mark again.

“The large, mechanically winged man has been wrecking havoc in New York’s beloved neighborhood of Queens for the last—”

The ground suddenly shifted beneath her feet with a loud boom, jolting her forward and stopping her report mid-sentence. She twirled around, eyes instantly landing on the sandwich shop across the street.

Or, rather, on the man looming ominously from its roof.

She could only assume it was a man. She’d never seen his face—or any part of his body for that matter—not that his skintight suit left anything to the imagination. But the media affectionately called him “Spider-Man”, so they pretty much filled in the blanks on that one.

She watched as he seemingly surveyed the area. It was always so hard to tell what was going on behind that mask, but every time she saw him she liked to imagine a picture perfect heroic expression etched into handsome features.

It made her disdain for the local superstar a little easier to swallow down.

His head swiveled back and forth a few times, fists clenching at his sides, before he shot one of his webs and disappeared on the other side of the building. She immediately turned back toward her camerawoman, lips pulled into an excited grin.

“This is perfect. Come on.” She wasted no time in scooping up some of the equipment laying at her feet, but stopped short when she noticed the apprehensive expression staring back at her.

“I don’t think I’m really in the mood to run toward danger today.” Her best friend’s bored voice didn’t match the concern she knew was brewing just below the surface.

“MJ,” Y/N all but whined. “We need this story.”

“We need to get ready for next week’s debate.” She muttered, mild annoyance seeping through. “We need to be home in twenty minutes so your dad doesn’t kill us. We need—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Y/N huffed, tossing the last of the camera supplies into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

She turned on her heel, pulling her phone from her back pocket as she moved toward the last crash that sounded a few blocks away. She was getting this story, whether she had to go alone or not. Screw her father’s arbitrary curfew. He was in India for the next few days, anyway.

“You’re serious?” MJ’s incredulous voice echoed from behind her. “What about Liz’s party?”

Y/N’s attention only wavered from the small screen in her hands once she was finished temporarily disabling the tracking feature her dad had not so subtly installed before giving it to her. He didn’t need to know she almost immediately figured out it was there, just like she didn’t need to know that he got a notification every time she hacked into the system.

Her eyes found MJ’s, wide with shock and following something in the sky above. Y/N’s head snapped upward, gaze locking on the flying man who was twisting and turning aggressively in an attempt to kick Spider-Man off his right wing.

“Yes. Very serious.” She huffed, pulse jumping with excitement. “If FRIDAY calls just, please, try to be convincing.”

With that, she spun around one last time before jogging toward the action. She knew MJ’s hesitation was coming from a good place. They’d been inseparable since middle school because they were on opposing ends of the same strong-willed base.

Where MJ was methodical and calculated, Y/N was rash and unpredictable. They were both the type to end up involved in sketchy situations, just at varying speeds and levels of grandeur. Y/N had her father to thank for that.

The iconic Tony Stark was not a pretender. He was who he was, loud and proud. He’d never apologized for it before—not even when he should’ve—and he probably never would. Y/N, on the other hand, had been pretending to be something she wasn’t for more than a decade.

He’d given her a choice when she was old enough for kindergarten. They talked about it, mapped out the pros and cons, and she made a decision. Soon after, she entered the outside world as Y/N Smith. It was the best thing her five year old brain could think of. Plus, she didn’t want her place on the alphabetical rosters to change.

She went to public schools—something Tony never missed an opportunity to mention he hated—and started paving her own way. Right now, that meant she was chasing a super-powered fight through the streets of Queens.

Since landing a highly sought after internship at The Daily Bugle, Y/N’s main priority had been impressing her overbearing bosses. That came with varying levels of complexity, depending on the superhero shenanigans of the month.

She rounded a corner into an alleyway, instantly ducking down when a blindingly bright object whizzed by her head. Her arms shot up in a protective motion as she leaned against the cool brick wall at her side. She remained there, frozen in place with a racing heart, for several seconds.

Something thumped to the concrete only a foot away from her crumpled frame, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She peeked through her arms, still crossed over her head, eyes widening as they landed on a pile of red and black fabric.

The lump groaned and slowly unraveled to reveal Queens’ favorite masked hero. He shook his head, the mechanical eyes of his suit twitching as if malfunctioning. Y/N was stuck in her spot, wide eyes hungrily drinking in every detail they could. Despite following his activity for months now, she’d never gotten this close to the mystery man.

His suit was tighter than she thought possible. It hugged his body in a way that left nothing to the imagination. The rippling muscles lining his torso were clearly visible beneath the thick material. She watched as he sat back on his heels and rubbed the side of his head, shoulders tensing as he seemed to finally realize that she was there.

“Whoa, hey.” Came his breathy, surprisingly high-pitched greeting. He cleared his throat before continuing, a steady hand extending her way. “Are you okay, miss?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in curiosity, not missing the way his demeanor changed the moment he noticed her. It was like a flip switched. He’d turned on his superhero persona, a process she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

“I’m fine.” The words came out more forcefully than she’d intended, but she was all business now, too.

There was no way she was letting him out of her sight without getting some information. She wasn’t even worried about all the ways her bosses would kill her, she’d beat herself up enough for the missed opportunity. She ignored his hand, dusting her jeans off and hobbling to her feet before reaching for her phone to launch the recording app.

“Can I ask you a few questions, Spider-Man?” She jutted the phone out in front of her, and he took a step back as if the device would somehow hurt him.

The eyes on his mask widened, something she didn’t know was possible. “Oh. I...uh—”

Just then, the ground shook with a massive impact that couldn’t have been more than a block away. It would’ve knocked Y/N right off her feet if it weren’t for the gloved hand that shot out to stabilize her.

“Gotta go!”

By the time his hasty goodbye met her ears, he was gone. It took about ten seconds for Y/N to process what just happened before she took off running in the same direction he’d swung in. She was too far in to give up now. At this point, she’d settle for some shaky footage of the fight. It’d be enough to satisfy her editors for a few days.

She ran out in the street, stopping abruptly as a stampede of people swarmed her. Elbows and shoulders rammed into her sides as she tried fighting her way through the panic.

“Oh, come on people! Chill the fuck out!” She found herself shouting to deaf ears.

Maybe it was because she grew up immersed in the superhero way of life, or her bordering on unhealthy need to get some kind of story tonight, but either way she was aggravated by the public reaction more than anything.

She was rarely scared anymore, even when faced with imminent danger. Admittedly, she didn’t have a good gauge for when she might be getting herself into trouble. Another thing she blamed her father for.

Her eyes remained trained on the sky, watching the fight unfold in mid-air. She cringed as Spider-Man nearly fell off the homemade-looking flying suit. He quickly regained his balance, shooting a web into one of the back engines. It immediately started sputtering as the metal clanked and caught in the sticky substance.

They were going down, and fast. She knew this was probably her last chance to get any kind of discernable footage of the event, so she reached into her back pocket for her phone. It was at this moment that someone decided to shove into her so hard that she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground.

A rush of air left her lungs as she hit the asphalt, hard. She couldn’t help but wince as pain shot up both of her arms. There would definitely be bruises she’d need to hide later. Thankfully, at least she ended up near the curb so she wasn’t instantly trampled to death by the screaming crowd.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and huffed, wiping away the tiny rocks that were now embedded into her palms. She was about to hobble to her feet and call tonight a wash when her eyes landed on a blueish-purple glow coming from a nearby alley.

Maybe she wouldn’t get any useable footage tonight, but a souvenir would lift her spirits and, hopefully, her credibility in the office. Without wasting anymore time, she stumbled to her feet and ducked into the darkness of the cramped space.

She followed the pulsating light, stopping only when her eyes landed on a small, metallic object. It had a thin silver cage protecting what looked like a gem or rock of some kind. Nothing too crazy, aside from the whole glowing thing. Her brows furrowed with curiosity as she crouched down to get a better view.

She had absolutely no idea what it was, and she’d seen a lot of weird things in her dads workshop. The only thing she could compare it to was some of the alien technology that’d been leftover from the Battle of New York. She’d run a few stories about that herself, plus saw her dad tinkering with some things since Thor took Loki back to Asgard.

Figuring she could show it to him at the very least, she pulled the end of her sleeve over her hand and grabbed it. She let her bag slip off of her shoulder and quickly unzipped it before sliding the object inside.

Just then, the sound of screeching metal filled her ears at a deafening volume. She managed to close her bag before covering her ears and ducking against the brick alley wall. The crowd still surrounding the area screamed in horror.

She watched with wide eyes as the huge bird-man landed on the rooftop just a few feet away from her crouched form. It was the closest she’d been to the masked—villain? She wasn’t sure—and he was far more intimidating than she’d first assumed.

His glowing beady green eyes didn’t so much as glance in her direction as he slung Spider-Man over the edge of the building, the tip of one of his wings wrapped around his throat.

An involuntary gasp tore through her chest.

It wasn’t that she was worried about the hero. For one, she knew he was more than capable of fending for himself. It wasn’t even that she cared if he got hurt. He was mostly an annoyance to her, his illusive nature making her job way harder than usual.

But if she knew one thing in this moment, it was that the bird-man was the bad guy, and she couldn’t let him win.

So, she did something really stupid.

She found the closest thing that she thought might actually do any kind of damage—which was, unfortunately, an old bike helmet next to the dumpster—and chucked it at the pair.

It hit one of the metal wings with a pathetic clink and all three of them froze.

Y/N held her breath as the man’s head turned in her direction slowly. Way too slowly. Like ‘I’m going to really enjoy killing you’ slowly.

After that, everything happened impossibly fast.

“Hey! Watch out!”

She barely had time to recognize the panicked voice before she was flying. Her stomach flipped and she couldn’t even scream, overcome with sudden vertigo. She pinched her eyes shut the second she saw the top of a building and clutched onto whatever was carrying her away.

If it was the weird bird guy, she accepted whatever evil plan he had. But, if it was Spider-Man, she was going to kill him.

It must’ve only been seconds before her feet touched solid ground, but it felt like an eternity to her. The moment she felt the stability beneath her, she began fighting against her captor.

“Let me go! Oh my god. If you don’t put me down right now—”

“What the hell—ow!”

Once she was free, she staggered away from him with a huff. She cleared the hair out of her eyes and bent over, resting her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding wildly and her stomach was still doing summer-salts.

She raised her eyes to send a withering glare toward the masked man. “Never do that shit again.”

He stared at her—at least she assumed—for a long moment before taking a step forward.

“What the hell was that? You could’ve gotten yourself hurt.” He gestured wildly with his hands, clearly agitated.

“That’s one way to thank me for saving your life.” Y/N ground out, sounding way more bitter than she would’ve liked.

“Saving my—” The eyes on his mask narrowed incredulously. “You did not save my life. All you did was distract me and put like ten other people in danger.”

She couldn’t help but scoff. “Please. Spare me the morality speech, Spider-Man. We both know you don’t bother worrying about people like me.”

Y/N was all too familiar with how superheroes think. When they’re in the middle of a fight, all they care about is winning. They usually have a bigger mission to accomplish. One that doesn’t concern itself with the lives left behind.

“People like you are all I worry about, trust me.”

With that harsh declaration, a heavy silence fell between them. Y/N clenched her jaw tightly, biting her tongue to prevent the floodgates from opening. Spider-Man wasn’t the only one who deserved her hostility toward superheroes, he just happened to be the one in front of her now.

Instead of speaking her mind, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. At this point, it was late. The sun had set and her dad surely knew she wasn’t home when she promised. She had to accept that today just wasn’t her day and head back for some damage control.

Peter, feeling his chest tighten with regret for the way he’d snapped, followed closely behind her quick steps.

“Wait!” She actually stopped, something he wasn’t expecting, so he rammed right into her back. His hands quickly wrapped around her biceps as she spun around. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I, uh...”

He didn’t know what to say. This was the second time in one night he’d run into her, but he was still dumbstruck. The circumstances weren’t ideal. He thought he’d lost her earlier, but then she had to go and put herself in danger.

He took a step away from her, dropping his hands and rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. He had to remind himself that she had no idea who he was. Even if he did embarrass himself—like he usually did around her—she wouldn’t know it was him when they saw each other in the halls come Monday.

“At least let me get you home.” He insisted, feeling bad that he’d indirectly kept her out so late.

Y/N pursed her lips, immediately wanting to accept his offer but trying not to give too much away. Truthfully, she was exhausted. She just wanted to get home and deal with the fallout disobeying her curfew would bring so she could get some sleep.

“Alright.” She sighed, pulling anxiously at the straps of her bag. She knew this meant she’d have to swing through the streets again, something she wasn’t nearly ready to do.

Nevertheless, she allowed Spider-Man to walk toward her. She averted her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her back and tried not to let her breath catch when his gloved fingers skimmed the exposed skin of her lower back where her shirt had ridden up.

Warmth enveloped her as his proximity settled in. Under his mask, Peter’s face was burning. This was by far the closest he’d been to his classmate. Or any girl, actually. Not wanting to think about it for a second longer, he shot a web toward a nearby building and followed the directions Y/N yelled out.

Within minutes, they landed on the helipad outside her front door.

Peter felt his stomach drop with realization once he let his eyes wander around the outside of the huge building.

“Oh my god. Is this seriously where you live?” He cleared his throat after squeaking out the question, not necessarily wanting to give away his shock.

“What?” Y/N scoffed teasingly. “Don’t I look like a spoiled rich girl?”

“That’s not—I wasn’t—” He didn’t know what he was trying to say, honestly. There were endless questions flitting through us mind at warp speed.

If she lived here, at the Avengers Tower, did that mean she was one of them? And he just hadn’t met her yet? Or did she work for Mr. Stark? But she was so young. He guessed she could be an assistant or something. Maybe she worked for Pepper? Or Happy? Or, she could—

Y/N rolled her eyes, deciding to spare him the embarrassment of sputtering any more. “My dad is famous...like helped form the Avengers famous.”

Peter’s mind went blank. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Cap?” It was the first name to spill out of his mouth. “Wait, can he even have kids?”

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his assumption. “He totally can, but no.”

“Oh.” The gears of his brain started turning again and realization slowly dawned on him. He felt his throat run dry as his eyes widened behind his mask. “Oh.”

Shit. This was way worse. He couldn’t believe he had no idea who she really was. Sure, she used a different last name at school, but he should’ve seen the resemblance sooner.

“Look, I know you two have worked together.” Y/N sighed, thinking back to all those weeks her dad was gone fighting Steve and the rest of his friends for no real reason. “Can you just...not tell him about this?”

Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. Why wouldn’t she want Mr. Stark knowing that she’d been with him?

Either way, he agreed, since he had a favor to ask of his own. “Only if you won’t.”

She gave him this dumbfounded look, and he knew he had to elaborate.

“He made me this suit before the whole thing with Captain America, so I thought he would keep giving me missions, but now it’s been months and he won’t return my calls. I’m lucky if I get through to Happy. He doesn’t want me getting involved in this stuff, so...”

It struck Y/N then how weird it was to hear a superhero talk about her family so casually. It didn’t seem possible that the two of them were in the same circles. Sure, she’d practically grown up with a few of the world’s most famous heroes, but somehow Spider-Man was different.

He was local. And elusive. A pure mystery to her.

“What exactly is this stuff?” She thought back to the weird glowing object in her bag, having almost forgotten it was there.

“I don’t know.” Peter shook his head, seemingly defeated. “I thought it was just neighborhood stuff, but those guns...I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Alien tech.” Y/N said without hesitation, although she wasn’t actually positive that’s what it was. “My dad has some in his workshop. It was leftover from the Battle of New York.”

“How does it work?” Peter found himself asking excitedly, easily pushing all the other revelations from this conversation to the back of his mind.

“I don’t know.” She admitted, looking away from him as her chest tightened with emotion. “I’ve never gotten close enough to any of it to see. He likes to keep me out of things too...”

It was at that moment, as a breath of silence settled between them, that they realized she was still in his arms. Y/N’s face erupted with heat and she quickly pushed herself away from him. Once her feet were back on the ground, they both stepped backward to create some much needed distance.

“I, ah...better get back...”

“Yeah, yeah. I have to go too...”

They looked at each other for a few long moments. It was at if neither of them truly wanted to separate, but knew they had to. It was clear, though, that they’d just formed some kind of connection.

Y/N felt something strange—and wildly inappropriate—brewing in her chest. A certain kind of attraction toward the masked hero she’d never considered before. It appalled her, honestly. It wasn’t like she hated the guy, but she certainly didn’t like him. And she had no idea who he was. He could be eight years old, for all she knew.

With that realization, she turned on her heel and stalked down the narrow entrance to the Avengers Tower, her face still burning. She heard the thwip of Spider-Man’s webbing and knew he’d be gone if she looked back. So she didn’t.

She pressed her hand against the touchpad outside the front door and quickly slipped inside once it recognized her prints. She sighed heavily and let herself fall back against the door, the comfort of home enveloping her.

The peace was short lived, however, as she caught sight of her mother waiting expectantly behind the bar to her left. With a glass of red wine in hand, her knowing gaze shifted from the helipad outside to Y/N’s stiff frame.

She took a slow sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the glass.

“You’re so grounded.”

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let me know what you think!! should I continue this series??

#peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker #tony stark #mcufam #original character #marvel #the avengers #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #peter parker series #mcu series #tom holland series #stark reader

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pldcrl · 7 years

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Walls

My uncle wrote a great essay about history and walls. His name is Peter Vella. He doesn’t have an “internet presence” or any social media accounts, so I thought I would post it on his behalf.

Henry Ford said, "History is (more or less) bunk." He was wrong. Just like his timing for the Model A, and his idea that Adolf Hitler was a swell guy, Henry was wrong about history. History gives us a chance to avoid the mistakes that our predecessors made. Recording and studying human events means we will never have to sport mullet haircuts again, we will never think it is someone's right to smoke a cigarette inside an airplane, and we don't need to go to war to stimulate an economy.

Donald Trump’s signing of an executive order to start the construction of a wall along the U.S. Mexican border shouts that the newly elected president skipped a history class or two.

There have been ten or so major walls constructed in the history of the world. The biggest wall by far was the Great Wall of China. Its length varies depending on who you ask. The most famous portion built in the Ming Dynasty measures 8,850 kilometers. A different source claims the entire structure spans 21,196 kilometers. It was built and rebuilt from 700BC to 1644 AD which is longer than it took to finish the Montreal Olympic Stadium. It was meant to control immigration and military intrusion. However, international news agency GB Times reporter, Riho Laurisaar claims “the Great Wall may have been a manifestation of power that put fear into the hearts of barbarian raiders, but it failed miserably when it mattered most". And, “The Great Wall was nothing more than an ambitious project contrived by a vainglorious emperor, trying to make a clear distinction between civilized people and barbarians”. Now that sounds familiar. Today the Great Wall of China is a tourist attraction.

The Romans were usually pretty bright, yet they built (not one, but) two walls in England. Hadrian; the Roman Emperor from 117 to 138 AD was responsible for the first one. It was to” keep Romans and barbarians apart”. The 110 kilometer wall wasn’t working too well so Hadrian's successor Antoninus built a wall north of Hadrian's to supplement the whole process, and get his name on a wall as well. This second wall was like having a mud room to keep cold drafts from coming into the kitchen when you open the back door; except that mud rooms work. The barbarians (Scots) got by anyway. Hadrian's Wall has become a famous hike and today is a tourist attraction.

The history of Jerusalem is a litany of "build it up, and knock it down" by all the major Fertile Crescent state religions and the Romans as well. The West Wall or Wailing Wall in Jerusalem is part of the fortification of the Temple Mount. It was built by King Herod about twenty years before he supposedly tried to kill baby Jesus. The wall around one of the holiest of holy places may as well have had a revolving door on it though. Today it is Israel’s biggest tourist attraction.

The French Maginot Line was not really a wall per se. It was a wall of defence consisting of bunkers strung in a line along the French German border. The bunkers were connected by underground trains and were equipped with artificial sun rooms and gourmet canteens. Built in the 1930s, the line was meant to keep Nazi invaders at bay. However, the Panzer tanks took the Belgian detour route and you could order schnitzel in Paris restaurants a week or so later. The Maginot Line does get tourists, but most of them are German.

If we zip over to Turkey we have the Walls of Troy. This edifice withstood a lot of abuse in a ten year war with Greece about 1190 BC. As the story (myth) goes, those crafty Greeks gave up on knocking the wall down and set up a large wooden statue of a horse stuffed full of soldiers by one of the gates. Curiosity got the better of the residents of Troy and they dragged the faux equine into the secured area. That night the Greek soldiers popped out and the expression, "Duh" was heard for the first time in history. The Walls of Troy are now small sections of stone but are definitely in the Lonely Planet guide to Turkey.

If Donald Trump was a guest on Celebrity Jeopardy he may be forgiven for answering that the Ming Dynasty is a Chinese soap opera, or that King Herod was the guy that opened up that department store in London, or that Hadrian was Rocky's girlfriend, but he should know the story of the world's most recent wall; the Berlin Wall. Built by East Germany (aka the Soviet Union) and eventually covering a distance of 96 miles, “the Wall” marked the region where American and Russian troops had met in their occupation of Germany. After about fifteen years of tense co-existence, the two “allied” victors decided that they would start a war against each other. It was only a Cold War; still, it cost a lot of money, and kept most Europeans awake at night. Starting in 1961, the Berlin Wall became a physical monument to the world’s efforts to avoid a third World War and nuclear devastation. What made the Berlin Wall novel was the fact that it was built to keep people in, not out. This might be the same premise for Trump's next secret project; “The Canadian Wall”. It will be there to keep “Trump Dodgers” from skating across the frozen Detroit River to Windsor, or claiming refugee status when they step off cruise ships in Vancouver or Halifax. The Berlin Wall lasted only twenty eight years and the deconstruction party became lore. This was the only functional world wall that could be witnessed in my (or Mr. Trump’s) lifetime. I did cross it at the infamous Checkpoint Charlie gate. The elevated tourist passage showed me that the Berlin Wall was actually a pair of walls. In between them was the “death strip” consisting of mine fields, speed bumps, ditches, electric fences, and a series of frightening looking steel structures. “X” shaped rough cut metal protrusions with rusting edges were meant to snag would be escapers until they could be shot by guards in towers. Maybe this is where the expression, “overkill” came from.

A beautiful building or sculpture is a testament to the imagination and ingenuity of the human race. The Berlin Wall was all about what ails us; divisiveness, fear, and control. I was there on a gloomy overcast day, and it felt like it was the Wall that was sucking all the light out of the sky. Approximately two hundred people died trying to escape the Berlin Wall. Today it is a tourist attraction.

History demonstrates that only one substantial wall was built in the United States of America; so far. Situated in the city of Boston, the ominous sounding “Green Monster” has been part of the mystique of the Fenway Park baseball stadium since 1912. At almost four storeys high, it was intended to keep non paying spectators from watching the Boston Red Sox games from outside the park. That only worked until television was invented. The Green Monster did serve to keep hits that would have been line drive home runs in most other parks well within the realm of outfielders. However Jose Bautista and a few other players have foiled the Monster on several occasions. Fenway Park holds the Major League Baseball attendance record at 794 consecutive sell out crowds. Many of those would be tourists. Possibly, concerning the rhetoric needed to sell Congress on the idea of the Mexican Wall, Mr. Trump may alter a famous baseball phrase, “Build it and they won’t come”.

The Dutch are known for dykes to hold back the sea, but you may not be aware that they are also responsible for creating a wall that was relied upon to impede the process of millions of invaders. The “modern” contraceptive diaphragm was developed after the vulcanization process of rubber was patented by Charles Goodyear in 1844. Eighteen years later Wilhelm Mesinga not only designed the device but his name would be used on the only brand available for sale for decades. It may be a dubious distinction. Even though one third of American married couples were using the “Rubber Wall” for contraception in 1940, there is physical evidence that the diaphragm was only moderately effective. Some of that evidence may be in the same room as you right now. There are three cities in the world that have been able to advertise a contraception museum as part of what tourists may want to visit; the cities are Toronto, Vienna, and Cleveland.

There were other walls; in places such as Peru, Croatia, Iraq, and Zimbabwe but the recurring theme that comes from this frightfully abridged history lesson is, that large walls do not work as static defense: not for long anyway. It seems the inherent flaw is size. Even if you have tens of thousands of slaves to build an enormous edifice, how do you secure it? A perfectly good soldier is at their post sixty kilometers away from the subverting action enjoying the sunset or playing solitaire on their I-pad.

The total border length between the United States of America and Mexico is 3,201 kilometers; or 1,989 miles for those that live on its north side. There is already 700 miles of security fencing where the Border Patrol feels the majority of illegal action is focused. That leaves a 1200 mile reno. Donald Trump's wall to keep out “drug dealers, criminals and rapists” is going to cost 10 to 25 billion dollars to build. He says he is going to get Mexico to pay for it. That would make his wall historically unique at least. Is it going to be a toll wall?

A wall in this climate zone is going to be hot dirty work to build. Your average American isn't going to want to do this kind of work. So.....why not hire Mexicans. Save them all that travel to do farm work in Ontario or housework in Los Angeles. The trick will be to somehow get them to pay to do the work. That would really secure Don's place in history. But even if he pulls it off, how effective will it be. What about an innocuous bus filled with Mexicans dressed like Japanese tourists; or a giant Trojan Piñata that looks like it just might be stuffed with donuts?

Admittedly there are still large numbers of illegal aliens entering the United States, but the numbers from Mexico have been reduced by more than half in the years of 2008 to 2012 according to a joint study by the University of Texas and the University of New Hampshire. The researchers believe this is due to a drop in the birth rate and the availability of work in Mexico. They go on to suggest that the most recent illegal immigrants are leaving Mexico to “flee violence”. Twenty five billion dollars could go a long way to help Mexico clean up its internal problems, and end the need to escape Mexico for good.

Maybe the whole thing is intended to fail and become a tourist attraction like all those other defunct walls. Maybe there will be a theme park. Speaking of theme parks, the first theme park in the world was built by none other than Henry Ford whose Greenfield Village ironically became a "historical" reproduction of a rural Michigan town site, like the one he grew up in. In his later years Henry spent more and more time strolling around in Greenfield, happy to be in another era than the one he invented. So much for history being bunk.

When the Trump Wall is torn down, like Berlin, there will be a heck of a party. I see a big show with lots of celebrities. The highlight will be the famous Mexican guitarist Carlos Santana playing "Soul Sacrifice" which he scorched through at Woodstock in 1968. Check it out on U Tube. By the way, the walls didn't work at Woodstock either.

In case you were wondering, Donald Trump’s mother was Scottish and his father was German. So his relatives have had experience being on the wrong side of a wall.

#walls #history #trump

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