While we're standing in line at the coffee shop and the kids are a little busy you tell me the world is going to hell because young adults these days just don't work as hard, and that they should know the change from your drink within seconds. While I smile and hope the poor kids don't get too flustered knowing that patience has gone out the window with the advent of the computer. All the while astonished at how they can say hello to people, remember the recipe for your double skim café mocha with light fat free whip and a shot of sugar free mint for the holidays, while calculating the change from a twenty for your three dollar and thirty seven cent drink, pouring coffee and heating milk all at the same time.
You tell me the world has gotten so rude and you can’t account for it; as you cut off the guy before you to make it to work just five minutes late instead of six after forgetting to thank the young lady that held the door open for you as you hustled into and out of the coffee shop thinking that you could get a drink that takes two minutes to make in thirty seconds if only no one was in line before you and they had everything out and ready. They should have known you were coming.
You tell me your plight while standing in line at the grocery store, being sure to inform me that things have gotten so expensive that not a soul in the world could keep up with the rising prices while you buy the most expensive brand of everything. While I stand behind you with a cart just as full of groceries knowing I'll pay one hundred dollars less because my shampoo doesn’t give you an orgasm and water comes from a tap.
You tell me the world is ending because of fuel consumption, our economy will fail because of the cost and the US is sure to choke on it's oil addiction as you pull up next to me in your high performance eight cylinder Benz complaining about your wife's SUV. I smile as I drive off in my sedan that gets twice the gas mileage with fuel thirty cents less a gallon and costs twenty thousand less up front complaining about my wife's SUV.
The day is too wet, too hot, too cold, too dry, too sunny and too gray for you.
The lakes are down or the water table is too high and threatening to flood the basement; besides the water is too polluted.
Your children are forced to deal with issues of sex and violence at too young an age. While I look back at five and remember the first time I saw a horse being born and at seven when I first learned about death in getting a chicken for dinner my Grandmother's way.
You tell me that the idols of today are indecent, peddle only sex and should begin acting as role models for children. I say if they're not thinking about it by the time they're worried about pop culture something is wrong, and if you haven't explained to them that it's all pomp and circumstance by the time they're worried about it something is really wrong.
You tell me there are no jobs as you head off to work. While I go to my office and try to find a single decent employee I won't kick myself for hiring. Knowing all the while I have interviewed insanely qualified candidates that just don’t have the drive we need. All of which would have been hired in a minute if not for being late, having too many complaints about other companies they’ve worked for or having excessive questions about vacation time, sick days, personal days and the ability to leave at the drop of a hat if anything needed their attention more than the company that was paying them x amount of money for x amount of dollars. Remember, in the end it's all trade and barter.
You tell me that college is too expensive to keep the American dream alive. While your children take out loans to pay for the same thing your Father worked so hard in order to give you.
You tell me houses are too expensive, retirement is too far off with the cost of living and social security won't exist as you drive off in a forty thousand dollar car to your Bloomfield Hills bungalow with two thousand square feet worth one point five million. While I drive home in a twenty thousand dollar car to a two thousand square foot house worth an eighth as much because of it's city talking to my investment broker about fifty three or fifty five and what I'll have to do for each option.
You tell me people can't get ahead because they're Black, Latino, Arab or any other thing than white. Meanwhile I go to my Sister's house and talk to her husband about the stress associated with running your own marketing firm, yet never talk about the struggles of being a Black man in America.
You tell me the roads are hell, but you can't stand construction.
You tell me that being from the farm means I am less intelligent, less developed and less refined. While I, being from the farm, wouldn't sit at a table with you and your children if my life depended on it because of your manners, mind and chosen topics.
You tell me the schools are failing. While I laugh at the fact that by the age of twelve my son has a higher understanding of Math and Science than my Grandfather had by twenty, knowing my children will laugh at the same fact in thirty years, and theirs in sixty.
You tell me that marriage cannot survive in our society because of constant temptation and the stress of running a family. That marriage is an outdated institution and that humans were just not meant for it. While I smile knowing that you're simply compensating for the seven year itch you just scratched or are planning to in the near future.
You tell me the government is corrupt, politicians lie and that our society is doomed. While I smile and wonder what has changed in five thousand years.
You tell me that the working man can’t get ahead these days. While I go to my Brother in law’s house to hop out on the lake in his boat and maybe cook a few steaks after we’ve had a few runs on the wakeboard. Knowing that he makes more than half the people I hire into a position and skilled trades are only headed for higher wages.
You tell me your difficulties are greater than any, lesser than none and never felt by any before you. That the world is a mess and can never be fixed. That the world should give up and share in your grief. While I listen to my Grand-parents about the Depression, my Father about Vietnam and my Mother about rocking a colic stricken child to sleep while the hookers came home; all the while knowing I am the fortunate son and the world is mine for the making and the taking as long as I fight for it.
I just wanted to say thank you to everyone of you for giving it the old college try in killing the world's collective spirits and dragging down everyone's mood around you. You truly are a wonder to breathe with your head that far up your ass and sunk in such a large puddle of tears.
- Location: Detroit
- It's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests