I'm getting older. I'm not ancient, but I'm planning to retire this year (unless the Supreme Court trashes the subsidies . . . but that's another topic.) I look at a life that started when Eisenhower was first elected. Sputnik. Martin Luther King. VietNam. Watergate. My draft number. 4F cause you are a fag. Earth Day. The long slow ennui of Reagan and Bush and Clinton. 9/11. The Crash. The Bailouts. The first black president of the United States.
Marriage -- not a good idea, but a wonderful woman and beautiful children. Sometimes the wrong decision isn't a bad decision.
Carole King. Billy Idol. Star Trek TNG. Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I have a grand-daughter and a grandson. I worry about them. A lot. What can I do to redeem myself and my life?
One of these days, I'd like to do something meaningful, you know?
Sure, I've given money to the right causes and the right candidates -- but my $25 bucks didn't make much of a difference . . . the Kochs did.
Sure, I stood out on cold windy night and held up a candle for Matthew Shepard -- but that didn't change any minds . . . Will & Grace did, I guess, as hard as that is to believe.
Sure, I gave money to Barack Obama, more than I could afford -- but the Republicans set the agenda, nonetheless.
Sure, I use eco-friendly products even though they cost more . . .
When I was a young boy, I could tromp along the Nebraska riverbanks where I grew up and see Life Exploding Everywhere. Now . . . endless irrigated cornfields dumping nitrates into the drinking water of everyone from Omaha to New Orleans.
I would give my grandchildren the best of all possible worlds.
But we leave them sorrow.
I'm so sorry. I tried, but maybe not hard enough,