By Staff
Yesterday – rather than combine all of my errands in order to maximize the use of my gasoline -I made a few extra trips.
Then I stopped at Starbucks.
And I did it … for America.
When the price of gas began edging ever so closer to four dollars a gallon, I gave in. And that's saying a lot for me, because I can be pretty stubborn. I stopped making trips unless they were absolutely necessary and I cut down on my big caffeine conglomerate sponsored addiction. I figured it was a small sacrifice to make in such tough economic times.
But this week something changed.
It was us.
It used to be you could catch the hope, the glimmer in the random stranger's eye standing at the gas pump across from you. That hope was in the belief that all the madness would end. That this generation of children would see the 98-cent gasoline that did in fact exist once upon a time. That the effects of higher gas prices and higher energy costs would cease to find their sneaky little way into every single possible news story on the planet. That somehow it would all stop affecting every single home on every single street in every single city and town across the nation.
And things would go back to normal.
But like generations before us – it seems we are going to have to adjust to a new normal. And that reluctant resignation is what you can see in people now. And it's scary because it solidifies the idea that there is no relief in the immediate future. And it leaves many wondering just where we're headed.
Immediacy is found in adaptation, in times like these. History is made in times like these. Through each of this country's wars, the Great Depression, the Civil Rights movement, Sept. 11 – all were moment of incredible, irreversible change. Each tested the average American's ability to adjust. Where we once were a people of profound innocence, a people both idealistic and deep in the faith that evil could not trespass its way into our country – we woke to the horror of Pearl Harbor. We saw our innocence sink to the bottom of the ocean. We had to grow up. Where we once were a people of immense conformity, sailing through the fifties in crisp white shirts and bold, solid colored ties – we learned to challenge our ideals. And moving through the sixties and seventies, we took to the streets and evolved into a counter culture that would impact the world forever.
And once we grew up … once we sat perched on the rooftop with the perfect view of what was America -on a simple September morning, we saw everything we'd come to be, our strength, our pride, our dignity … decimated by terrorism.
And it seems to me these days, America is a little tired of having to fight. Through devastating weather and thinning bank accounts and wars. As we gear up for the thick of Decision 2008, I get the feeling sometimes, we're not even up for making decisions about dinner, much less a new president. Especially after resigning to the fact that nothing either of our candidates promise us in the coming months will amount to an overnight drop of gas prices, the restoration of our farmlands throughout the Midwest, the restoration of our own individual stabilities.
Still … through the smoke and the fire and the changes that have taken America by the collar in the past…. Through the changes that have settled into our cultural grain in a matter of seconds… Through the aftermath… we continue to evolve. How we adapt, how we keep the faith is what America is all about. Pearl Harbor highlighted the core of American strength, resolve and youthful beauty. Each Supreme Court decision highlights our desire to grasp the texture of what is right and what is wrong. And I still get chills when I hear the words, "I have a dream"… I still remember how an entire nation lived in Manhattan for one entire day.
There's no question … the times … they are 'a changin.' Life will be a little different for a while. And then eventually that feeling will melt into a new normal. I for one am going to take a moment to grieve for the way things once were. When the news circled around prosperity and not the lack of it. And then I'm going to keep moving. Adapt. And I'm going to look for that glimmer of hope to return to the eye of those Americans that are just trying to get by. And I'm going to look for it in the newspapers. And I'm going to wait for America … to walk out of the fog like the handsome hero in a big budget action movie.
And when I feel like too many changes, too many sacrifices are being made… I'm going to take a day to waste a little gas, buy some over-priced coffee and pretend… that things haven't changed at all.