Touch of grey

(I seem to be on some kind of video-posting kick. Please bear with me, it's probably just a phase.)

You know, I don't know if I've spent enough time extolling the virtues of my readers (or musing over the incredible fact that I have readers). You guys really rock, you know that? I was, perhaps, a bit depressed in my last post. A bit, perhaps, melodramatic. A bit, perhaps, of a pretentious gothy snot. But you all took it in stride, commiserated with me, shared your own experiences, and generally talked me back off the ledge. I even got a lovely evening of knitting with good friends in the deal. Hm. Maybe I should whine more often? (/jk)

The shoe is on the hand, it fits // There's really nothing much to it // Whistle through your teeth and spit, cause // it's alright.
We will get by // We will survive.

But, as the estimable Jerry Garcia says, we will get by. In a lot of ways, that song sums up how I feel most of the time, admittedly more acutely at some times than others. It really isn't the case that "I think we're all doomed" (I didn't even think that during my last post). I do think our way of life is doomed--and good riddance, really, so that's not even very depressing to me. What depresses, scares, and just generally cranks me off, is that we are so screwing ourselves working through our not-quite-doomed-ness. There are good ways to transition our lifestyles to a healthy, sustainable culture. There are less good ways of doing it. There are tricky ways of doing it. There are outright bad ways of doing it. And then there's the way we're doing it, which as far as I can tell is edging up on worst-case scenario bad. Everything we need to do, everything that we'll have no choice but to do, is being made progressively harder and more traumatic by our collective attitude towards it. Even the people who are supposed to be at the forefront of the battle, the avant guard, as it were, find that they only fight just up to the point where it becomes mildly incovenient for them. And because of that, everything is going to go much harder than it needs to.

Every silver lining's got a // touch of grey.
Yeah, we'll get through this, I will gladly concede that, even though it's just gonna suck for a long while. So it's good to have reminders of how we're not totally doomed, and why we might be worth saving. You readers are part of that, reminding me that the ledge isn't really where I want to be. My friends & family, playing with the kids, the cat, all those things that will still be worth doing no matter what our dumbass culture goes and does next. The first Farmer's Market of the season, seeing people I hadn't even realized that I missed until I saw them. People who loved our two sons' new mohawk haircuts (!), and had worried all winter about if B and I would ever find a job (we did!), and wanted to trade bread for cherries.

During the worst of the Soviet Union collapse, when the only food to be had was via garden or barter, and no one knew what tomorrow would bring, people still celebrated birthdays. Weddings were held (and consumated!), and babies were born. Grandmas held grandchildren, and died peacefully, having lived a full life. Games were played, people laughed. There was pain, and agony, and starvation, and death. And there was joy, and happiness, and giddiness, and love. All things in balance.

We will get by. We'll return to your regularly scheduled blogging soon. Thanks, guys, and enjoy the song!