The road between Joseph and Imnaha. One of the many places the Nez Pierce got chased out of.
The other night at the store, the clerk was awfully glad she lives in Imnaha so she doesn’t have to deal with all the traffic and crowds in town. Crowding is relative when you’re in a place this remote.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” She asked him.
“Whatever it is,” he answered, “I think you’ll be terrified when it happens. Don’t let that stop you.”
–Kevin Wilson/The Family Fang: A Novel
If you want to change your direction
If your time of life is at hand
Well don’t be the rule be the exception
A good way to start is to stand–J.Bass/Put One Foot In Front Of The Other
I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to using a song from Santa Claus Is Coming To Town in my blog. It’s not even one of the good cheesy Christmas specials! really prefer Rudolph. Yes, I needed to explain that or you might have thought I liked it. Yes, that matters. It just does, OK?
Well, it’s not like I have anything particularly original to say about doing stuff, so perhaps the cheesy song quote is appropriate.
Everyone knows they have to do something sometime, right? (Oooh, George Michael flashback: “not everybody does it, but everybody should.”)
This doesn’t seem to be going well. I’ll try back later.
…
…
It’s later now.
I’ve still got nothing.
Do some stuff, okay? People seem to mostly agree that it’s important. But don’t do too much stuff. That is apparently bad too.
Yeah. You can’t win.
Here’s my best advice:
–Be mostly positive, but stay rational about it. Sometimes things do suck and I think it’s OK to acknowledge that.
–Do stuff. Live your life mostly the way you want it. Sometimes you won’t be able to, but aim for that to be the exception. You won’t get what you want unless you take some sort of steps to make it happen. They can be small steps, as long as they keep going.
–Don’t be afraid of doing the wrong thing. Trust me, doing nothing is far worse.
–Don’t beat yourself up if you do the wrong thing. But. If you have been a douche canoe, please admit to it and make amends.
–Don’t completely buy into that stupid Zen saying about you being responsible for your own reactions and emotions. Yes, it is true that you choose how to react to what happens to a great extent. But if someone shoots your dog, it is not unreasonable to be pissed off at the shooter. In fact, I think anyone who can be all peaced out about really awful stuff is just plain weird. On the other hand, if you lose your shizz over sitting at a traffic light that isn’t synched up then I reserve the right to laugh at you. Other people will do things that piss you off. YOU will do things to piss yourself off. It’s OK. Get over it. BUT if you’ve done something horrendous, give yourself an ass-kicking first if you deserve it and then get over it.
Use your judgement. If you have terrible judgment, get advice and follow it.
Use some balance.
Nothing is 100% right or wrong.
Also, before doing anything you have to know what you want.
That. Is. The. Hard. Part.
I am still working on it.
The wage slave system drains our blood;
The rich are free from obligation,
The laws the poor delude.
Too long we’ve languished in subjection,
Equality has other laws–the International/E.Pottier
When I was younger so much younger than today
I never needed anybody’s help in any way
But now these days are gone I’m not so self assured
Now I find I’ve changed my mind and opened up the doors
–Help!/the Beatles
I don’t really have a point to make today, so I’ll tell a story of inaction and the wonders of socialism.
When I lived in Paris, I had a job as a waitress in a cafeteria in one of the suburbs on the opposite side of town from where I lived. That meant a 45 minute commute by train. Which was great–the public transportation in Paris is wonderful, or it was back in the Stone Ages when I lived there. Commute time = reading time, so I didn’t mind it.
Waitressing did not agree with me–over period of a month or two I started to get sick. Maybe it wasn’t waiting tables at all. It could have been the layer of mold lining the concrete block walls of the appartment I lived in. Maybe I’m just a wimp. Whatever the cause, I was not doing well. I lost a lot of weight and was exhausted all the time. Because I was in my early 20’s, broke, and working 6 days a week, it didn’t occur to me to go to the doctor.
One morning on my way to work, I fainted on the train. I woke up a couple of stops away on the floor of the train. Everyone in the seats around me had moved as far away from me as possible, so I found myself all alone, crumpled on the floor in my little red waitress uniform.Although there were a few dozen people there with me, they were all squashed together in one half of the car pretending not to notice me on the floor.
And no one helped me get up.
At the next station, I managed to crawl off the train and sat with my back against the wall of the subway station for a little while, too weak to get up onto the bench. People on the bench also moved away from me. I assume that people either thought I was contagious or a junkie. Or both.
For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to ask anyone to help me. It was very clear that I needed help and it was just as clear that no one was planning on offering. After what seemed like a long time, I managed to get to a pay phone and called my husband and asked him to come and get me.
He pointed out something that I didn’t even know, or had maybe forgotten. In France, anyone who works at any sort of job legally has health insurance. The pharmacies will typically post the address and phone number of the nearest physician seeing patients on call. So off we went to indulge in some Socialism. a visit to a doctor. They did some labs, and it turned out I had some sort of electrolyte imbalance causing my heart to do funny things. (I didn’t think it was a bit funny). They wrote orders for me to stay home for a period of at least 4 weeks. When I said I couldn’t be off work without a paycheck for that long, they looked at me like I was an idiot and told me that it was covered. Not only that, but that there could be random home checks to make sure I was home resting. I ended up being off work for something like 6 weeks with full pay.
When we got home, my husband asked me what I thought would have happened if I’d passed out in a subway in the US. My guess was that someone probably would have stolen my purse, but that someone else would have helped me get up and make a phone call. Then I’d have gone back to work after a day or two because I wouldn’t be able to take much time off. I’d have been sick for months in a purely capitalist society.
Vive la effing France, mes amis! They could give a crap about the individual person laying on the floor of a subway car, but once that individual gets off the ground she can get some pretty awesome health care and actually stand a chance of recovering from what ails her.
The lesson? Or rather, the question?
Is it better to care more for society as a whole than for each individual or to hold the individual as sacred at the cost of what is best for society?
I’m voting for society on this one, even if people think that means I’m a socialist.
Are individuals important? Absolutely.
Do I think the US values the individual too much and neglects the good of society? Very much so.
I’m going to use that word again, aren’t I?
Yep.
Balance.
Why’s it so fucking hard?
That’s a serious question, and I have no idea what the answer is.
