What We Hold On To

As 2016 comes to a merciful end, it’s natural to think of all that we’ve lost.

If you’re anything like me, from the same time or era, the world is fundamentally different now than it has ever been simply based on the loss of touchstones to our youth.  The incredibly long list of pop culture icons that we have lost this year is staggering and includes people like Prince and George Michael, like Muhammad Ali and Jose Fernandez.  It includes stars who shone bright and men who reached for the stars.  Men and women whose decisions – good, bad, or indifferent – shaped the discussions on what we hold important in this country.  We’ve seen an unprecedented election cycle, which is saying something because we are coming off two terms of the first black President.

This is not the world we know.

But there’s one thing we should hold on to, and that’s hope.  It’s not as difficult as you might think, because everything we do as individuals, I like to think, is rooted in hope. You get out of bed because you hope you make a difference, or you hope today will be a good day, or you hope you make enough to get by.  You have children, participate in their lives because you hope you can teach them to do right, and hope you can teach them to improve the world around them.  Hell, you even drink because you hope to numb the pain of the past.  You fight with loved ones, you work through things with loved ones because you hope they can be better

.

Hope keeps us coming to the table.

So, I suggest we hold on to it.  I suggest we keep getting out of bed, we keep teaching our children right, we keep fighting and working.  We act as agents of hope.

I hope I’ve made myself clear.

Future Past

I've been asked a few very interesting time-travel questions lately.

The first one I was asked was, given the choice, would I rather (a) go back to 1999 and be 21 again, with full possession of the knowledge and experience I've acquired in the intervening years or (b) be 21 now in this day and age.

Tough question.

When I was 21, I thought I was mature for my age.  In reality, not so much.  I worked full-time and I lived at home, but my education had stalled and I partied way, way too much.  I had a ton of tools to make adulthood so much easier and I squandered most of them.  I had a great, great time and I don't regret any of it, but I could have made my life so much easier. That knowledge is irreplaceable, the experience is completely invaluable.

But being 21 now would be fun.

Being 21 now would mean that I would be more proficient in the technology of today, that many adults sometimes struggle with.  I would be able to enjoy the music of today the way young people do, instead of being this old and crotchety guy who rails on and on about how the music today is silly.  I would be able to have access to an amazing group of people, a generation or two behind me, who have grown up in the world that I have inherited and such.

I think I'd rather go back.

Way back in 1999, I did and saw some amazing things.  They may not have been extraordinary, but they were definitely life defining.   It would be amazing to see all the people I had in my life back then, meet some of them again for the first time.  And going back would allow me to correct the mistakes I made, like being smarter about money and school, or inventing Facebook.  It would be great to go back armed with the knowledge of who and what would be a waste of my time.  I wonder if I'm alone in this thought.

The second question was What would your 17 year-old self think of you now?

I'd like to think that me from half a lifetime ago would be amazed at what he would become.  But I'm probably wrong; my 17 year-old self had lots of ideas that were simply different from the way the world works.  I expected to be successful at 17, not quite realizing the hard work that goes with it.  I thought I'd be working for the New York Daily News, not even close to realizing that the print newspaper industry was going to be circling the drain at this point.  At 17, I expected to be married by 34.  All I can say to that is "oops, sorry dude."

Anyway, I ask these questions of all of you.  Please, sound off in the comments section. Would you choose to be (legal drinking age) now for the first time or back when you originally were knowing what you know now?  And what would the self that's half your age think of you now?

Benediction (short post)

Okay, so it's the closing hours of... well everything.  The Mayans, who couldn't predict their end at the hands of the Conquistadors, foretold that the world will end sometime in the next 24 hours.  Of course, this is nonsense, but let's assume for a second that they're right, and all my efforts to save the world (basically drinking and partying) fail.  I'm not worried about how it'll happen, or what it'll be like.  I'm worried about dying and not getting to say what I have to say.  The most important thing I'll ever say, ever again.

I love you.

And you.  You too, over there in the back.  All of you.  Even you, right there.  All the family, the friends I've had, the loves, the haters, the critics and the supporters.  I love each and every last one of you.  More than any of you can possibly realize.  The experience of knowing you, of being in the presence of your words and emotions, good and bad, has shaped me into who I am and who I've tried to be.  Even if I haven't spoken to you in years, or we just talked yesterday.

I'm going to do everything I can to save us (read: party and drink).  In the event I'm not successful, you should know this.  And if I am successful...

Th world as we know it should end.  The hatred should be replaced with love.  The apathy should be exchanged for compassion.  Division should be countered by unity.  There's more that we have in common than we have different.  Remember that.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a world to save.

"Believe me, that IS hard work."

Warning:  The following post is of a political nature, exemplifying my pinko leftist commie beliefs and railing against wealthy right-wingers.  It also contains sexual wordplay involving politicians and their wives.  Reader discretion is advised.

The most demeaning thing that's ever happened to me happened when I was about 19 years old, living in New York, and making just a hair above minimum wage at a thankless job I worked after school.  It was at a home heating fuel company, and the grandson of the owner was brought in to meet the staff.  He was about 12 or 13 at the time.  My older brother and I were the only people of color who worked in the office as opposed to out on the trucks, and he paid particular attention to us.  He came to me (and my brother, I later found out) and asked what it was like to work and go to school.  After I told him the answer (it sucked and I was always broke), he said to me "Keep at it.  That sort of thing builds character."

I'm sure he thought he was being inspirational.

I bring this up because of a conversation I had with a co-worker.  I've been largely ignorant of the political scene this election cycle because as we get closer to a one-on-one battle, the rhetoric gets ramped up to unpleasantly ugly attacks and I want no part of it.  I know who I'm voting for already, and have no time or patience for what amounts to a high stakes playground game of "the dozens."  That said, it was brought to my attention that a woman publicly criticized Ann Romney, the wife of probably Republican candidate Mitt Romney, as being unfit to comment on the state of women in the workplace considering that as a stay-at-home mom and wife of a gajillionaire, she's never worked a day in her life.  Her response:  "I was a stay at home mom raising five boys.  Believe me, that IS hard work."

Huh.

There is so much here to dissect.  Let's start with the fact that the woman, Hilary Rosen, an LGBT activist, was forced to apologize.  For exercising her First Amendment rights.  Simply because this rich chick got offended.  Is that where we are now?  It's okay to call Trayvon Martin a thug, or say on radio that women who require contraceptives should be made to videotape their sex lives, but offend a rich chick who had the good fortune to blow the stock broker who became Governor, and all hell breaks loose?  Certain factions of the populations make derogatory racial remarks about our PRESIDENT, but offend a rich white lady and you have to apologize.  I call bullshit.  The people who are so fervent about protecting certain rights seem to be very pissed off when these rights extend past them to the rest of us.

Secondly, Ms. Rosen was right.  Ann Romney hasn't had to work hard a day in her life, and between Mormon missionary work and the "job" that got her married, she hasn't ever had to punch a clock.  She's never had to make ends meet.  And let's be real, I find it hard to believe this rich missionary lady ever really had to do very much of the actual raising of her five boys.  It's easy to be a stay at home mom when you never have to even worry about paying the bills.  My mother never had that luxury.  She worked, put herself through school and fed seven hungry mouths.  Now believe me, THAT is hard work.

I have a huge problem with this "let them eat cake" attitude with which the wealthy 1% regards the rest of us.  This culture of entitlement they seem to have engendered has only gotten more brazen in the wake of the Bush years, that they are supposed to walk over us, and we are supposed to genuflect before them and that is just supposed to be the status quo.  No.  Hell no.  That's not the country the Founding Fathers signed on for.

Reality Check.

Once upon a time, when we were children, we all said we would save the world.  I remember a particular English class in IS 391 (Thanks, Ms. Amy Greenberg) in which we wrote our own eulogies, and listed the accomplishments we would have made.  Some of us said we'd cure cancer or AIDS, some said we'd be rappers or movie stars, or famous lawyers and authors.  And while we have all enjoyed a modicum of success, I hazard to guess that very few of my friends from IS 391's class of 1992 have impacted the world the way we thought we would.  I guess that's a consequence of the reality of adulthood, putting away the bigger dreams of our childhood in favor of more practical ones.

I came across a YouTube clip of someone around my age who, when she was a child, actually TRIED to save the world, and is actively still doing so.

The young woman in question is Severn Cullis-Suzuki, who at 12 was an environmental activist.  She gives a compelling speech 20 years ago at a UN Environmental summit that is painfully relevant today.  It silenced a room full of adults in 1992, and very likely would do so again today.  It was honest and heartfelt, and filtered only through the honesty of a child.  In it was no political maneuvering, no base to pander to.  It was a direct, simple statement that showed how we did, and still, make things like communicating as adults more difficult and complicated than we need to. While some would criticize her naivete, her lack of understanding of how the world works, I believe that same quality is what makes it resonate so strongly.  She doesn't understand the way the works, not because she doesn't know but because it makes no sense. It moved me very nearly to tears and put a couple of things very sharply into perspective.

For starters, though we are taught differently as children, we are very wasteful people as adults.  We seek to consume and dominate without ever seeking balance, and what doesn't fit gets thrown to the wayside.  Our society is like this in every phase, from living environment and feeding, to work, to play, to religion, and everything in between.  Human nature seems to be about creating and overcoming struggle, and it doesn't need to be about all that.  Especially not us in the Western world, especially not in this day and age.  And a quickie review of the things in my life that are wasteful, I on a personal level don't need to completely rewrite my life to make things better for the people around me.

The other thing that was put into perspective was the definition of impact.  Ms. Suzuki made an impact that is still rippling today, as evidenced by the fact that the things she was right about in the above 1992 video, she's still right about now.  We are still watching her humble a room full of delegates, businessmen and "important people."   It made me stop and think about the lasting impact my actions have had, or will have.  How have I affected the world around me?  How will I?

And that's the big reality check.  I wrote in my eulogy in 1992 that I would cure cancer and AIDS before dying old and rich in the arms of my young supermodel wife.  It's funny now, but I genuinely believed I would back then, and that it would be no big deal.  I haven't done anything more important in my life than have that dream when I was 13.  And though some of us have families to provide for, mouths to feed, lives to help shape, I would dare say that most of us have never had dreams wider in scope than when we were 13.

And that, my friends, is a tragedy.  We have become the adults in the video.

PS: Severn Cullis-Suzuki is STILL trying to save the world, these days for her child and that generation.