Mar 9, 2012

My Rant



I borrowed this photo from a friend. Love it!  I haven't felt a need to write lately because I have been too busy doing real world things. Cleaning, reading, bill paying, crying, paying more bills, lol.  Actually my overhead isn't that bad so I am counting my blessings.  I have been watching that show Doomsday Preppers, I think it's called.  I am learning new lingo.  Bug-out Bags = A backpack filled with about 3-4 days of survival tools.  One man has been building an underground "condo".  He has spent about 3 million already. He has investors who are guaranteed a living space under the earth.  Actually, it was rather impressive.  Doomsday means different things to different people.  There is nuclear attacks, the financial collapse of the US., chemical warfare and a few other items. Jesse, his friend Reuben and I watched one episode together.  I am watching this and looking at my son wondering what his world will be like when I have moved on.  I actually felt sad.  Yes, I love our technology and gadgets. I use them daily.  I just can't imagine being 22 in today's society.  How will he afford to get married and have a family?  My life hasn't been perfect  but in the whirlwind of marriage, kids, addiction, death etc..you know what?  I am blessed.  I grew up with great music, hitchhiked from MD to Florida up to MA and back when I was 14.  My girlfriend and I wanted to see the world.  Gone one month and came home unharmed safe and sound. I now carry my keys like a knife just to walk to the store.  What happened?  Is my son and his family going to be walking around in gas masks and bug-out bags?  What kind of quality of life is that?  Instead of going to poetry readings or the movies are people going to be doing practice drills because the bomb is going to drop?  My world was reading The Dharma Bums and rolling a doobie when I was young.  I was fearless and free.  Now I see fear everywhere.  Mistrust.  Hatred.  Poverty so blatant that you can taste it.  Like welfare cheese.  A big ass brick of yellow wanna be Velveeta.  No matter how bad you wanna be, you ain't never gonna be...affluent, have decent health care, living the dream etc.  I am living the dream my friends when I sit here and write, when my coffee is hot and sweet and my Newport's are on my desk.  I don't need an automatic de-icer for my driveway to make me happy.  Yup, money is great, I enjoy life when I have it.  My generation learned a lesson that this one has yet to discover.  The smallest pleasures in life all add up to fill that big hole.  The hole inside, where the soul resides.  Fuck a bug-out bag and give me soul.  Peace!!!! 

10 comments:

Lou said...

Yeah, we have gone to hell in a hand basket. I can't believe how disrespectful young people are today.I want to slap me some punks!

Annette said...

A simple life....simple pleasures. I worry about those same things and I could NEVER watch a Doomsday prepper show...it would ruin any serenity I have managed to muster up. I go about my day blissfully ignorant living one day at a time, trying to persuade my husband that the kindest thing he could do for me this week is to build my garden boxes so I can begin getting ready for my summer vegetable garden. I so hear you on this post.

Lori said...

Lou- In your line of work it must be especially trying. Hell in a handbasket is a perfect description. Hopefully we are going in the opposite direction! xoxo

Annette- I love to garden. That is joy. You plant something, nurture it and watch it grow. That's what I am talking about. You find joy in tilling the soil. Something so simple, yet so fulfilling. Good luck on getting the hubby getting started on those garden boxes! xoxo

goatman said...

Thing is: kids growing up today have nothing else to compare their experiences to. Thirty years from now they will be writing about how their life was serene and happy and the lives of kids' do not compare . . .

Lori said...

Goatman- You know what? You are probably right. Hope things have been alright with you. Much love!

Syd said...

Too bad that the storytellers of the past generations aren't listened to. But kids don't listen at the time--I didn't--but I hear those words come back to me now. I remember most of what my parents taught me. And I marvel at what I have learned.

bugerlugs63 said...

Hi Lori - Just came from Lou's after reading the guest post . . beautiful.
I'm on the same arc as you (just!)
almost 50, just got off H, and loving the peace of mind, garden and the return of feelings (most of them). Not too keen on the guilt but I will find a way . . . a sober way.
Loving your blog.

Lori said...

Syd- You are right. Do you ever open your mouth and hear your parents speaking, lol? Scary....The one thing you learn in recovery is that "Gee I don't know everything and maybe I need to stop talking and start listening" Many people could follow that advice! If I only knew then what I know now...sigh....

bugerlugs63- Nice to meet you. I,too, am still trying to find a way to absolve myself. It takes a long time. Thanks for coming by.

Patty said...

Hi Lori
I just read your guest post over at Lou's and I was deeply touched by your story. I love your writing style too. I will be coming back to visit!

Lori said...

Patty- Thanks so much for stopping over and thank you for the complement. My writing is basically journal style. I will stop by your blog. I'd like to hear your story as well. :)