- Greetings, yes! My very first blog entry – as most writers do there are times of introspection, and I find this is one of those times. A break in the Thanksgiving festivities…..so I do what I do best….I write…..I welcome your return dialogue here…change the subject, comment on what was written, the choice is yours – I will lead, but you can cut right in, and I will follow, too…
- It is a time of Thanksgiving. A time of food, of thought, of remembrance, and of hope. We gather. We talk. We write. We photograph. We ponder. The world infiltrates this inner time with reports of people laying down their lives for simple freedoms in far away countries; freedoms we have as part of our every day lives, and no longer think about, because they simply exist. We hear of shoppers camping in tents, standing in lines. And one takes a can of mace because people are crowding too close to the video games she is waiting to buy, so she hauls off and sprays her fellow ho-ho-ho shoppers. We hear of the man who took a baseball bat to his father on Thanksgiving and bashed his head in and killed him – and we cringe at technology for bringing us the 911 call of the mother, the wife – who documented it all for us, not realizing that the world would later listen in on the evening news, while we ate our leftovers. We watch Occupy this-and-that and we recall walking out of school for smoking rights, and writing underground newspapers filled with poems of Vietnam heartache at such a young age. We remember the power of the daisy in the gun barrel at Kent State. We think back with hope at the young man and the tank in Tiannenman Square. We see brave young souls toppling atrocious governments and the leaders that in flesh and blood prove that evil is here on earth – evil walks among us. But now we also think, gee, they could use a bath, there might be disease brewing in those dirty tent conditions, they have no leaders, they have no written agendas and demands….or very little. There is no end point. How do they declare that “winning” moment and go home?
- I turn to my children and feel for the college senior who now must pick a grad degree that will give her a sustenance, but perhaps not allow her a passion – for the law student who sees potential in 12 months and wonders about the loan payments as conversation about public defender work is more and more replaced with personal injury and litigation. I was the mother who said ‘all dreams are possible’, my children. Go for your dreams. Because I was sure that the next generation would do better than the one before them. Because that’s the way it is supposed to be. But now I do not know if that will be the case, so my advice is moderated by such concerns, and educating young people about pensions and retirement, and planning – because there is no safety net for them. We – the baby boomers – may be the last to dangle in that safety net. Precariously so. And not for all. So I bought more life insurance to insure their later lives, not my own.
- So – this Thanksgiving and my first blog is the yin and yang of life. Like so many things. Is it hope? Is it despair? How fine is the fine line? The hope ribbon is pink and red and yellow and white and every color of the rainbow, my dears. But also see the caution flag whipping in the wind…..give it its full due. I am not thankful for the tempering of dreams. I am not thankful for giving advice about heeding the flapping caution flag. I would much rather say “Imagine….”