Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Making progress I’m still alive 1985

 


 

Dec. 19, 1985

 

Ill again – although rare these days, lucky for me, when the world appears primed for international disaster, diseases rampant, partly due to poor nutrition.

Much of this has to do with the way food is marketed full of sugar and stuff.

Too many people are starving even though they eat too much, while others starve for lack of having enough.

Mine condition is just a simple head cold; though fear grows with each degree drop in the temperature.

The cold snap arrives at noon and at my worst physical condition and is expected to drop to zero by tomorrow.

Makes me wonder how humanity survived the ice age, living in caves, huddled around fire, struggling to find food in the midst of storms and over frozen landscape – in an environment clearly far worse than what we suffer through today.

History books rarely go into enough detail about that aspect of evolution, individual survival over the prospect of mass extinction – bodies buried hours apart after each new apocalypse, disease rising out of the stench, killing as many as the disaster did.

How did it feel to grow up in a cave, one child in a litter of 20, sometimes the lone survivor?

To see bodies frozen in winter, buried later when the thaw comes by mid-summer, old and decrepit by the age of 27, part of swiftly moving generations that do not have time to contemplate history or even remember anything more than yesterday, this generation dying in order to make room for the next and the generation after that.

To think that here in the United States the quality and length of life has massively improved from those days of mere survival, even back to those days when we founded this nation, each generation stretching out its fingers to cling to a few more years of life.

My grandmother just turned 86, one of a handful of souls that has lived long enough to have seen one century turn into the next, as I hope and expect to do when I get to her age, though as much out of luck than out of intention.

Three weeks ago, my uncle Frank contracted pneumonia, still fatal sometimes today, though a death sentence 50 years ago (Frank would pass away after a series of lung, heart and other ailments in the year 2000 at the age of 62).

We are making progress partly because we have become so wealthy as a society, from the richest to the poorest – though in truth, in our world, the richest and the poorest are the most often saved, wealth guaranteeing those on top the best of care, the welfare state helping those most needy get what they need – while in between, the bent backs of working people like my uncle are left to fend for themselves.

Reagan tells us wealth trickles down – and it does -- we have the wealthiest poor in the world – yet not fast enough for those who want to see the rich foot the bill for the poor when for now working people pay the tab at the end of the day, and still struggle to pay their own way, while paying for poor they’ve never met.

We have tamed nature to a great extent, gas and oil to heat our homes, expensive electric to give us light by night, with electric companies like wolves waiting outside our doors to shut us off when we cease paying – even though law gives us reprieve until spring so that nobody finds our frozen bodies cave-man like. I often have to choose between heat/light or nourishment. But it’s better than being dead.

I get annoyed hearing the radicals on the left telling me how bad people have it, hating the progress that allowed us to drag ourselves out of our caves, radicals who insist we save the planet at the expense of saving ourselves, radicals who insist we need to “equalize” wealth in order to make life fair for everybody, when we are far better off now than my family was during the Great Depression when they had to live in the houses they built but could not sell, forced to move when banks foreclosed.

Radicals would have us trade the gas and oil that heats our homes for electricity few but the wealthiest can afford, even if we get the pay raise, they insist the richest in our society owes us.

Yes, black kids still die at an unacceptable rate as do people in other countries, some still a few steps behind the rest of us on our evolutionary journey out of the caves. Yet, despite what the radicals say, we do not abandon them, we carry them on our backs along with the rest of our labors, knowing that life may be better for the next generation or the generation after that, provided we are not forced to surrender the progress we’ve already made.

Fortunately, this is still only December and I do not have to pay the over-priced electric bill PSE&G sends me. Maybe I can wipe my nose with it.

 

 

 


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