In a modern day version of the Holocaust, Israel has destroyed all of the Gaza Strip, reduced it all to rubble, and killed over 200,000 people, with women and children in large numbers amongst the dead.
But I woke up Monday morning to our elite, college educated, professional class discussing corn nuts and Doritos.
I hear Anthony Blinken, our Secretary of State is on his way to the Middle East to attempt a cease fire. Blaming Hamas every second, of every minute, of every hour, of the trip. Over in the West Bank illegal settlement settlers are burning out their neighboring Palestinians, for even more future illegal settlements. I’ve read every week now for weeks of new shipments of munitions heading to Israel. Our bombs making us complicit in the destruction. I don’t recall getting any say in the participation.
Here at home I’m getting tired of discussing inflation. Every insurance bill that arrives is dramatically increased over years past. All costs are up, and up to the extent that it is becoming painful. That is, if painful means we eat chicken again, instead of steak. Value judgements are beginning to interfere with grocery decisions. I suppose compared to past times, say the 1930’s, a chicken in the pot is better than going to bed hungry, but in our modern technological age who ever thought we’d have to even consider sacrifice as a daily experience?
A grand disappears from the bank account so fast that for someone who has lived quite a few years it startles. I realize fully that this is “our new normal”, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t jarring.
I don’t feel as if I am living any different than usual, but at the end of the day the costs associated in fueling the lifestyle are concerning.
In some odd way I find myself sitting and questioning the lifestyle choices, and not the current state of the economy. Did we really need that big family dinner out, could I have made sandwiches instead of making that run for subs, am I just too casual in spending?
The Democrats and their policies have caused me this angst.
I’ve said before that all of life is high school. And in viewing the pilgrimage to Chicago for the Democratic Convention it appears the glee club, and drama club, have taken control. To paraphrase Tucker Carlson, any review of the constituency of the Democratic Party yields a bunch of angry women and effeminate men. Something is way off with this Tim Walz character, if we were back in the 1960’s the men folk in our family would have said he was “light in the loafers”. And there isn’t a chance my parents would have allowed any child to spend time alone with that man.
The combination of all of these events has caused me to begin to find joy in the smaller things in life. A son-in-law brought me home just an excellent corned beef sandwich for lunch the other day, and I savored it. A few days earlier I purchased an overpriced, oversized, sub from the premier deli in town, and I must say that it was absolutely delicious. Memorably so.
And staying on this theme of food pleasures since I’ve been in the Communist State of Maryland I’ve eaten jumbo lump crab cakes each week. I take joy in being able to do that.
Small pleasures, that is the only salvation from a world spinning out-of-control. One normally might seek some comfort in a sporting event, or program, but one has no control over the eventual outcome. So escaping through the rooting interest of a golf tournament, or soccer game on television can yield added disappointments.
I’ve taken to sitting and taking appreciation for the cool, light breeze that cools on a warm Summer day. Or finding joy in a simple sandwich purchase. Or recognizing some happiness in a day absent back pain, or the arthritis acting up.
I think it is sage advice from an old codger to tell you to begin doing the same.
Sitting alone with your thoughts savoring a good glass of red after work. A walk through the neighborhood where you make some attempt to listen to the sounds of nature all around, but usually ignored. The salt air smell of the nearby briny bay making you feel alive.
Hell, I can find joy in the fact that the two cars out front have nearly a full tank of gas each, and I’ve nowhere to go just now. At today’s prices that feels like an investment.
When things get a bit tough it can be time to take stock, and begin to view the glass as half full. We have five beautiful and healthy-happy grandchildren. And to a person they have personality plus, that Irish gift of being characters all. Being around them amuses me no end. When number two grandchild in line exclaimed to friends visiting for cocktails and dinner the other evening “my Poppy can do magic” it made me smile. At four he truly believes that I can take an empty bowl and make M&M’s just appear out of thin air. Hearing him tell strangers gave me an unbridled sense of joy.
A small ship is visiting town, a wooden sailing ship, all the way from Spain. It is a working sailing vessel, with a crew living aboard. You can board ship, tour the small sailing ship, and quiz the crew standing by to answer any questions about the boat. The same four year old who thinks I can do magic finds joy in boarding the ship, and just walking around seeing all the different aspects of a replica sailing vessel from the 19TH century. Once aboard you had trouble getting him off the boat. He truly thought himself a pirate standing on those wooden planks, replica cannon at the ready.
In a world that the Democrats are hell bent on wrecking completely one must seek out joy in the smaller and less significant events in life. To view the bigger picture can only lead to madness. You begin to question your sanity. A Holocaust in these modern day times of advanced thought seems impossible. And then you go onto Twitter and see the videos. Oh, and did I mention we have no Southern Border? And the flow of illegals goes on unabated? And the Dems just voted to allow illegals to vote in our elections? Well, thinking of that brings me no joy, so let’s move on.
Apparently, absent serious intent, or any real policies, the Democrats are campaigning right now on a platform of bringing joy to us all. As long as we aren’t all Palestinians living in Gaza. Or the West Bank. Or are part of the American middle class.
So be like me, find your joy in the little things in life. You have to, the bank account will allow for nothing more.