How is it that 1 in 5 children are now going hungry, but too, 1 in 5 kids are obese? I’ve never been a believer in redistribution, but somewhere along the buffet line, these oversized high-calorie kids might consider passing a plate down to their schoolmates who are starting to resemble chopsticks.
Ever since I was a teen, I’d listen to leathery, high-sock wearing crocodiles talk about the moral decay of the next generation, and then I’d saunter away, shaking my head, wondering whether their Alzheimer’s had kicked in regarding WWII and Vietnam and Watergate. But today, it sure seems like morality has become attached to one’s emotional opinion of things –If I feel like it’s not too wrong, then surely I can do it. Maybe it’s all of those negative tv news shows – fires, murder, rape, political lies, impending storm – but it appears national cynicism is up and the country’s ethical fortifications are weakening. The Pope cruises through Brazil in an open-windowed Impala while our Congresswomen get shot in the head during speeches. Not to mention terrorists staring out from the fame-making cover of Rolling Stone. Is morality decaying, or are we just evolving away from our own national conscience?
LA traffic has now reached a point where speed limit signs serve no purpose. With all of the pretentious people banging out texts on their iphones as they offer lobotomized gazes from their static fishbowls, one can never attain a speed much faster than a three-legged pregnant yak. Thus, the odds of hitting 65 mph in this city are about the same as one of your little swimmers winning the reproductive race – sure there’s a lot of fist pumping and head banging, but in the end, all but one ends up realizing they never got where they were going.
Mark Twain once said, “The more I learn about people, the more I like my dog.” An anonymous writer suggested, “There are too many people and too few human beings.” I’m starting to believe most people don’t like people, but rather, they like the humanity that people have inside them, a humanity that appears to rapidly be disappearing.
I’ve been trying to find an accurate analogy for the game of golf. There is approximately 80 (assuming you aren’t terrible) seconds of action over the course of five hours of play time. That’s about a shot every four minutes, meaning you spend one hell of a lot of time walking around short grass cursing at yourself and wondering why in God’s name you can’t hit a static ball straight, completed with a long iron launched into the lower atmosphere. Anyway, I think I found a perfect correlation. Today, this old couple was eating at the table beside me. For most of the meal, there was dead silence, infrequently interrupted by a brief comment, followed by head shaking and beneath-breath cursing, and culminating with a fork thrown across the table. It all got me thinking. Young men play golf as a means of escape – something about spending time with their buddies, and nature, and freedom from responsibility. Old men, however, have accepted life’s situation and they’ve just found a better way to have their balls busted.
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