Not much has changed since last I wrote a post. The smoke still hangs in the air irritating throats, eyes and humor. The heat still soars into the high 90s to low 100s on a daily basis. Tempers are short.
This seems to be the perfect storm of things gone wrong. Days run together to the point I have to ask myself what day it is or sneak a peak if I happen to be reading the paper.
I have lived through a lot during my many years on this earth but I cannot, ever, remember when people have been so self serving, identities so run amok and common sense a relic of the dark ages. What has happened to us as a race?
I can't judge what is happening in other countries because my information is scant and most likely skewed, but I can judge what's going on in this country. It makes me sad and angry at the same time. People who are in my age group are some of the worst offenders and those are the ones I'm most angry with. They know better, but somewhere along the way the power they lust for, and in too many cases, have, just isn't enough. Why is that? Like me, many are in what will probably be the last, or nearly the last, decade of their lives. They have every material thing they could possibly want and they have their power. Do they not realize they are going to be reviled after they are gone just as much as they are today? Do they not realize memories of them are going to fade and at some point in time they will be known as another dead white or black or brown person who were a flash in the pan in the grand scheme of things? Will history judge them well? I doubt it.
I don't understand egos like that. I don't understand how the here and now and their power to mold it doesn't bring out the best in them instead of the worst.
An aside here about why I began writing children's books in my late 70s. I wanted to chronicle what life was like when I grew up. A time when parents and teachers were on the same wave length, when kids understood the value of authority and the meaning of respect. When boys were boys and girls were girls. When kids were allowed to run free because their parents trusted them. I purposely used a big, lovable St. Bernard as my protagonist because I didn't want to preach to them. I wanted them to see life as a wild and wonderful romp, an adventure to be explored and celebrated.
Now too many parents are cowed by those who speak louder. Shame on them. What ever happened to moral courage. Why do we allow ourselves to be dictated to by people who can't get their eyes off their phones or computer screens? Why are we so afraid of being criticized by name callers who often don't even have the courage to use their own! How can those of you who succumb look at your own reflection in a mirror without feeling some degree of revulsion?
What day is it? I do know it's not the day in which I grew up. It pains me to think this may be the new normal for the children of today and tomorrow. We should all be ashamed for we all share in the blame.
