Idle Thoughts

 I have a thought. Let's just pretend for a moment that a couple of things happen on down the road a ways...

First, the Evangelicals and their sort get their wish and the "Right to Life" under any and all circumstances becomes the law of the land. No more abortions for any reason because "All life is sacred". They win. Every baby conceived is born and all is well in Gilead.

So where do they go from there? What's the next morality battle in the fight against the heathens? Well, one might propose that the next logical step to preserve all life could conceivably be the even more prevalent catastrophe...gun violence. After all, 45,000 or so gun deaths in a year is pretty significant. Since all life must be preserved at any cost, wouldn't it make sense for the same bunch to have a change of heart on 2A now that they have a victory under their belt?

Picture this: An emboldened hyper-religious segment with connections, lobbying power and a base that has typically agreed with their ideology in the past has an epiphany. God speaks to them and they decide that firearm violence must end now that the battle of abortion is over. The same group that espoused 'God, guns and guts' when they needed firearm owners if not necessarily be on their side, at least not to oppose them, has a change of heart on the guns part. 

Using mass shootings, domestic attacks and suicides in the news cycle as evidence, the call for regulation goes out from pulpits and city halls. Children especially must be protected at any cost. 'Well regulated' becomes a rallying cry. Key law enforcement and political leaders fall in line. Red Flags and confiscations become speakable subjects as even the NRA and manufacturer lobbyists come under condemnation as purveyors of sin. God is no longer on their side.

Everyone who is sick of hearing about weekly or daily shooting attacks hails it all as long overdue common sense and a giant step further than 'thoughts and prayers'. Public opinion, already leaning away from ever-increasing numbers of weapons and weary of government inaction, coalesces into votes. Congress, smelling a change in the wind and sensing where the religious power is heading becomes a springboard for restrictions unheard of in recent times. Sizeable campaign donations grease the skids. Along the way the religious minority takes a page from their playbook and using the power of the same Supreme Court that bent over backwards for them on abortion, begins chipping away at yet another supposed 'right'...just as they did with RvW. 

With over 400 million guns in private hands, the Christian Nationalist movement calculates that it's far too risky for their future to have so many independent minded people so well armed. A Godly country can tolerate random violence very little after all and organized resistance even less. So the long-predicted "they" who will be coming for your guns shifts quietly from the left to the right.  Unregulated access to firearms subtly becomes impermissible and before long the very thing that was intended to prove 'Shall not be infringed' turns into the vehicle to prove that it will. 

Stranger things have happened.

Farewell and Goodbye

 I said my goodbyes. The ashes of my mother, father and brother were buried side by side this week. Not one of the three of them wanted any of this. I stood on wet grass with my jaw clenched trying to hold it together. A man said words. A few people sang some hymns over canned music. I guess I was supposed to pray for something. It all just blurred. The man in the collar asked for memories but how do you pick anything out of a lifetime? Most of what we remember is wrong anyway. Colored by years and distance and retellings to the point they probably never even happened...at least not the way we recall them. Is that better or worse?

But each of them are now nothing but memories. Some good, a few bad. Isn't that what everyone is in the end? Fading light and failing recollections. A generation or two and it's all gone except the stone. 

I wanted desperately to be alone with them for a last little while. I tried to take a couple minutes as everyone was leaving to put my hand on each box for the final time...trying to know what to feel. Remembering. Wondering if I could ever grieve enough. Even that got cut short.

There was lunch afterward but I couldn't do it. I've been away so long. So much water under the bridge. I wondered if Dad would have pushed through it like he always did at big gatherings. Doug would have laughed. Mom would have understood I think. Why do we do this to ourselves?

Far wiser people than I have written volumes about grief and loss. Quotes by famous people are abundant. There's a lot of platitudes and Kalil Gibran/Hallmark nonsense. Religion tells tales of life everlasting. Thoughts and prayers. None of it makes sense and I can't add anything deep or meaningful to the collection. All I know is that each of us gets through it in our own way. 

There are things we are supposed to say and ways we are supposed to act when we lose people. Painful formality and rituals. "It's for the living", is the cliche'. Maybe, but if that's so, it's a travesty of anything remotely comforting. Dress up in your best black and bring a dish to pass. Say the words and wonder when it's your turn. I guess that's just how it is.

I wonder sometimes when a song comes on or a picture pops up or a random reminder comes to mind...will it ever get better? If getting easier means I remember them less, is that how it's supposed to work? When the stone is all that's left and all the memories are gone, what then? I know this isn't very original thinking. I don't care. It's my thinking right now.

And I miss them. I miss them. As an uncountable number have before me, I miss the ones who've gone. I'm dancing around the holes they left in the world. The hammer will fall one of these days and I'll collapse for a while I imagine. Every tear I gritted my teeth to hold onto at that awful cemetery will come loose. I'll figure out how to grieve. Then maybe...just maybe...it'll be ok. 

Mom. Dad. Doug. It'll be ok.

Back When

Seems like nobody wants to live here anymore. Or live now anymore. I mean, my social media is overrun with posts lamenting 'Back when we were in school...' and 'Kids these days...' and fill in the blanks.

Most of it is about how much better everything was X-number of years ago depending on the age and 'Gen' of the poster. I will admit it's a little tough for me to hear 20-somethings talk about 'back in the day' when I have a pair of Technics speakers twice as old as they are but it's all perspective. Objects in their rearview mirrors actually are closer than they appear.

Maybe it's just nostalgia for what we like to think of as easier, happier days but if you really take a hard look and admit it, nothing much really changes. The crisis of the moment is different and the names change but life is and always has been complicated and confusing in contrast with the carefree and happy-go-lucky daydreams so many seem to wish for and claim to remember. Everyone's past is filled with good and bad even if they choose not to remember it that way. 

My own rear-view mirror is pretty cracked and I've lied to myself about enough that unarguably true memories are hard to come by. I suspect we all do that to protect ourselves from all that junk back there that would hurt if we poked at it too much.

It's just human nature to look for simplicity amid complexity. 'Back when we were kids' seems understandable when so much of the present seems incomprehensible. Us 'Boomers' are very susceptible to this.  

The music was better. The cars were better. Everything was better. Except it really wasn't. Cars that 'lasted forever' didn't. 50 grand was high mileage and on top of that, a whole lot of them had a tendency to kill their occupants in a crash. Elvis was a societal menace as was all that rock-and-roll 'devil music'. The Beatles were the end of civilization as we knew it. Hendrix was evil incarnate.

True as well that prices were very low compared to now but so was income. You could buy gas for 55 cents a gallon when I started driving in '76 but I only made about 20 bucks a week working every day after school and on weekends. It was still a stretch to fill the tank, go skating, eat and make it till next payday.
Mom stayed home and Dad worked just like the memes tell it but he worked all the time and only had Thursday and Sunday off for years. It took an enormous toll on him and her both but hey...it was the 60's right so it was all good. 

Every generation looks back through rose-colored glasses and wishes for what seems like simpler times. But at least for me there's never been a time when things were as carefree as all that. I'm not saying it was all bad but I do think it's pretty disingenuous to claim the world was all sunshine just because you once were 16.

That's one that comes up a lot...rewinding to your teens. A wish to go back to high school days. Maybe for some that would be nice but if you're being truly honest with yourself, high school is probably one of the most high-stress times of your life. You can tell yourself that it was great being on the football team or going to the prom or partying in the woods or having a hotrod and all the other 'Glory Days' (sorry Bruce) adventures but I wouldn't go back there even if I could. As everyone does, I have tales to tell from those years and a lot of it was great fun. A lot of it wasn't. And I don't live there anymore. 

The flip side is how tough it was for 'us' compared to how it is for 'these kids'. Everyone knows the cliché, "We walked uphill both ways in a blizzard without shoes to get to school so quit whining about your iPhone." 

At least from my point of view, it isn't that is was so much harder when I was young...just a different hard from now. I wouldn't trade my tough times for Gen X, Y or Z tough times for any amount of money. And even if it was true that they have it easy (which they most certainly do not), who do you think made them that way? Oh yeah...that was us. We came up with participation trophies and helicoptering. We decided they had to go to college and signed them up for the loans. We scheduled them and activitied them and mini-vanned them and lessoned, camped, cliniced and programmed them because we thought we were doing the right thing. 

But now it's their fault they don't live up to our collective memory of what childhood should be. Ain't it funny how their music, their cars, their culture...everything that we brag about in our lives is somehow less for them? Give them a chance and a few years and they'll be just like us. Bragging on whatever becomes the next platforms about how the Alphas don't know how easy they have it. But until then, some of us might want to remember how it feels to be looked down on and back off on the toxic nostalgia a little.

I wonder sometimes that if we try to convince ourselves it was always sunny, we can dance around the parts where it was dark. There's no doubt in my mind that it pays to remember the days when we cried. Tears are truly a valuable part of who we grew up to be after all and to forget that we shed them along the way is to lose a little of yourself. The good and the bad make us who we are.

So when the urge hits to wish for all those wonderful things like rotary phones, rabbit ear televisions with three channels, 45rpm singles, Chevys with fins, stingray bikes, staying out till dark and Saturday mornings with Bugs Bunny...smile a little and remember like we all do. But temper it with a smidge of truth. It's fun to look over our shoulder sometimes and pat ourselves on the back for just getting through it. That's human nature and likely won't ever change.

But don't forget about today. If you live too much in times past, you just might miss a lot of times present.