Slacking?

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.