Thursday, July 19, 2012

I had no shoes and felt sorry for myself

We've been going through a sticky patch of weather here in The Land of the Steady Habits. Though I'm not from here, I'm from here now and so I fit right in. In the winter (unless it was like last winter, 'the winter that wasn't') I kvetch about how cold it is and then when we get to July and it's 90/90 temperature and humidity, I whine some more. Wait! There's a signpost up ahead! I know this place.

Yeah, that's where we are in the cycle right now and so set am I in my routine that the depth of my habit is close to transforming a rut into a grave. Truth to tell, I am chagrined to admit I'd lost sight that vast tracts of my country are having a lousier (spelling?) summer than I think I am (but they are really having it).

Much of our country is at Ground Zero of what will become for many a slow motion disaster, drought. And for millions of people right now and far many more millions not that much later, this is not one of those 'cheer up things could get worse' situations.

This situation gets worse only if locusts show up, or if after the light rain falls, there's a rain of frogs followed by a rain of blood. Not sure if it's The Almighty (caps are always a nice touch, doncha think?) or global warming, carbon emissions or the fallout of Bain Capital and/or the the Solyndra debacle that's behind all of this trial and tribulation, but someone, somewhere, is cranked close to max vol.

I have no idea how many city slickers each farmer in the USA feeds (okay, so I lied about not knowing. Maybe I should run for President-would fit right in), but while the farmers are already at the place where the road and the sky collide, the rest of us will follow in short suit when every agricultural product we buy gets mauled by the law of supply and demand. And if you think you'll be unscathed as you look around your kitchen-look around your home and hearth and workplace and guess again, sweet cheeks.

And for those among us not vehicularly challenged, driving corn oil cars and other ethanol-fueled delights: Good luck with that in six months when our choices are: 'do we make bread and hope people can walk to stores or should we make fuel and hope when they drive to a market they can find something else to eat?'

Third World peoples have struggled with this question, and a hundred like it, on a daily basis all of their lives, as well as those of their children. The answers don't get easier with practice and practice does not make perfect (though perfect practice does; go figure.).

Strange how I can watch all those appeals for money as stoically as I do. Maybe you, too? My threshold for other peoples' suffering is really impressive. Could you turn the air conditioning up a bit? I'm starting to sweat in all this heat. And while you're up, could you grab some more of those made from genetically altered-not-found-in-nature snack products that are all the rage right now? You're the best....

If we are what we eat, what do you suppose selfish and stupid tastes like anyway? I guess we'll find out when cannibalism makes a comeback. Praise the Lord and pass the napkins.
-bill kenny   

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