Gravitational Gravitas

    “I feel as lite as a feather.”

    “You high?”

    I believe it is just the times we live in, the response. When you say something about feeling good, there is someone who has been programmed to say or do something that makes you question your feelings. Raining on parades has become the new leisure activity for millions. 

    I can’t help but think we have slid so far down the proverbial rabbit hole that the light is no longer something to aspire to, but an illusion of probable danger. Stick your head out and old Elmer Fudd is going to show up with his shotgun, and so much for Bugs; he will be stew by evening.

    Have we gotten to a point where feeling good has become the antithesis of bad. Have we become so cynical that smiles have become suspicious as there must be something nefarious going on for someone to experience a salacious display of happiness. What could possibly have happened, gone wrong? Have we become so jaded that when someone says hello, we immediately begin to wonder what they want.

    What happened? Lies have become the truth, the truth is suspected of being a lie. Justice and law and order have become terms reserved for television sitcoms. Life and death has become synonymous with the chance we take daily just by going outside.

    Black, brown, white, red, yellow, unimaginative concept colors depicting nationalities, cultures derived from thousands of years of survival. Hate and love no longer opposites, but prerequisites for a rally. Where have all the flowers gone; gone to plastic everyone.

    It is not just the angry words, but the volumed rage that accompanies them. Animated mayhem, visions of fistfuls of hair, black eyes, broken bones emanating from the glowing screen, as conjured animosity flanked by disgust jumps into our laps, our eyes, our minds, as the TV dinners grow cold. 

    The visions of war on the streets of our land give way to the promise of Covid laden ships heading for the tropical breeze of a place where you are free to not hate, to think of nothing as the bored blue sea rolls onto the raked white sand, interrupted only by canvas backed chairs and tables laden with empty martini glasses. Is hiding our only option? Trading one illusion for another while we read poems of love, and pray that God exists, as it is our only hope of salvation.

    The stock market crashes and the sea levels rise to accommodate the ever-demanding need for beach front property. We find ourselves smiling at ourselves more often in the mirror, for happiness has become unaffordable as inflation climbs the ladder of success. The swimming pools of the rich and famous, now homes to the displaced sea creatures who wanted only inclusion but were provided lawyers in their stead.

    The cemeteries are filing with unfulfilled dreams of a time when life made sense. Mornings are filled with recorded bird song calling us to prayer, and the sun despite our need to screen ourselves from its presence, appears out of necessity, giving us the chance once again to demand something worthwhile to do. 

   Dogs bark, cats cry, children scream for attention, their shrieks drowned by the garbage truck alarms breaking the comatose nature of heaven on earth into little pieces that must be recycled, if our prayers for peace are to be answered.

   The torch was lit, the games were played, the tanks stood at attention waiting for a sign for the fireworks to begin. The amateurs were left at home, they could no longer afford the trip, and no one wants to believe in an underdog when the prize always goes to the one who wears the most glitter. 

   They say we should be ashamed, but no one can decide about what. Apologizing is a sign of weakness, I read that on a Wheaties box proclaiming it used to be the breakfast of champions.

   To mask or not to mask, that is the answer. If we only had a question everything would revert to the good old days of wonder years, gang dancing in the streets, and wishes riding horses while the street beggars are moved, to keep from blinding the sensibilities of those who can no longer afford a future.

   When I begin to believe there is no hope somebody puts a charging station on the corner and everyone seems to light up with the anticipation that energy will once again become penny cheap.

    I am supposed to feel better knowing that we have sent a messenger to coax an asteroid out of its envisioned attack on earth, while we debate the necessity of keeping the earth’s lungs from collapsing from cancerous apathy. 

    I take comfort in knowing the future is destined for a planet we have yet to destroy with the myth of capitalism, and the reality of consumerism. Perhaps I’ve become to cynical, but then although my memory is short, I have been to Philadelphia, Cleveland and once upon a time, the city of Lost Angels.

    Should I worry, we worry? As the man on the bridge once said, “would it help?” I can see no reason to believe it would. Once you have decided nothing matters, everything matters; hope that the winner of the fist fight in the sky is not stupidity, but conservative creativity.  It consists of doing more with less, and eventually everything with nothing. 

    It is all a matter of perception, and a willingness to realize the flip of the coin will result fifty percent of the time as a head, usually of a dead president, but things are free to change, it is after all still America. We are, should the need arise, capable of putting a tail on a donkey, if it will help. 

    The problem as I see it is that when the boat begins to take on water, we have only the one option, bailing. But the water is destined for whence it came, therefore only adding to our problem. Could it be we in our rush to be right have forgotten that two wrongs do not make a right, unless we resort to alternative observations. 

    Could it be that in our rush to hate ourselves, that we can believe that two wrongs can be cajoled into becoming a right? God does work in mysterious ways; human nature proves that, if nothing else.

    If we do as the bible suggests and split our differences, will we be forced to relinquish our stance, so that future babies may live?  Just a waking thought.