Fouth of July Reflections

I won­der what­ever hap­pened to Amer­ica. I feel more like a stranger in this coun­try all of the time. I know part of it is my age. I was born in the year when Eisen­hower won. For eight years, Eisen­hower played golf, built the Inter­state High­way Sys­tem (well, got a good start on it any­way), and there was eight years of an “Ozzie and Har­ri­ett” life. The 1960 elec­tion was decided by rel­a­tively few votes. The Bea­t­les arrived about the time that John Kennedy left. It has been a weird roller coaster ever since.

The fifties were rigid but calm, the six­ties were lib­er­at­ing but amaz­ingly nar­cis­sis­tic. By 1971 I was in col­lege in the twi­light years of an era. By the time I got to grad­u­ate school, Viet Nam was over, infla­tion was on the rise, and there were few jobs. The Yup­pies appeared in the 80’s and I was one of them — young, pro­fes­sional, deter­mined, and opti­mistic. The cyn­i­cal 70’s were behind us. The 90’s came and went pretty quickly. Com­put­ers and over­seas com­pe­ti­tion brought down­siz­ing. I dou­bled my work­load hours — as did every­one else — and the end of my mar­riage blind­sided me. Work-a-holism will kill a rela­tion­ship as fast as any other addiction.

The nineties were an exten­sion of the eight­ies. Rock stars aged with some style. Y2K came along then 9/11. After that, I began to feel like a stranger in a strange land. The vic­tim blamed itself. Polit­i­cally cor­rect jar­gon took hold. Our free­doms headed down the tubes (and that trend has con­tin­ued to this day — and has even sped up). Orwell’s lit­tle novel became very real. Our thoughts have retreated inward. Columbine told us that in place of val­ues we have opted for nihilism. Neu­tral­ity leaves a hor­ri­ble emptiness.

Celebri­ties, the elite, polit­i­cal pun­dits, pol­i­tics as soap opera, rewrit­ing his­tory, the lies we tell our­selves in order to feel like we are part of the in-crowd… What­ever hap­pened to us? Maybe it is me. Maybe I grew up in naive times. No mat­ter. Trends come and go. Coun­tries live and die. My soul is on a jour­ney with the Eter­nal Being. Some­day earth-school will be out. I plan to pass.