As a side note, this piece was started while hiding from family
interactions this most recent Thanksgiving. It is well past that,
but I thought that I would take the time and finish it up and post it
Sitting in the
morning before dawn at the M&M bed and breakfast. Tio just
barked a welcome and Hazel came over and gave me a kiss. A good
start to a day.
Last night was an
excellent discussion of who does what to who in this country. The
consensus is that there are a lot more folks out there who are
catchers than there are pitchers. The pitchers appear to be working
overtime to ensure that the catchers get their unfair share.
I think that there
are a growing number of folks my age who either understand, or who
are coming to understand that things might not turn out all that
well. Now, in the manner of true cowards anywhere, we are examining
the possibility that we might be able to sneak out of the endgame by
conveniently dying before the endgame gets serious traction.
I can’t really say
that I am above this attitude. I have tried to live a simple life
with as few luxuries as possible (hate to say it folks, that is what
constitutes a environmentally friendly lifestyle) and I think that my
“carbon footprint” is pretty damned small compared to a lot of
other folks. But this little non-effort of mine and its associated
nodule of self-righteousness hasn’t truthfully made the world any
better.
So, armed with my
sword and buckler of self-pity and self righteousness I foray into
looking at the future and my place in that uncharted land.
Unfortunately, I think that I am a forerunner, and moreover, a lot of
people will be following into the pathless land. The big problem is
that most of the folks won’t be following me willingly. They will
be dragged into the future kicking and screaming and wanting
desperately to go back to their flavored and carbonated sugar water
and McDonalds happy meals.
I can’t really say
that I blame them. The ease and quantities of stuff available to a
slacker in a land of lotus eaters is a pretty strong drug. Folks set
up a powerful set of sneers for the twenty-something living in a
parents basement, on an old couch, smoking dope, playing some
shooting game on his x-box, and hiding from the world.
But truthfully, I
don’t see a variation of this as out of the question for my dotage.
And with that ugly little secret out in the open, I want to explore
that possibility.
Think about that
fellow you are sneering at. Can you really for a moment think that
his life and aspirations are any different than yours, oh scion of the
Man in the Grey Flannel Suit.