Transfer #21 from Blogspot

Because I'm the Decider…


Okay, you must forgive the gratuitous Bushism starting off this post, but really, I ask you, could I help it? The answer to that is a resounding No. There is NOTHING like seeing your president, the man leading our free, fair nation, at a podium, pounding his fists and vehemently declaring that he's the decider of decisions.  So no, Rumsfield will NOT resign, because Bush is the decider, and thus, it is so.

I love it.  Although it's hard to believe we still have 2 1/2 years left of this lunacy.  Sometimes it's hard for me to believe just how – dismissive- as a nation we are of our current state of affairs.  Either innocence really is bliss, or many of us are in for one rude wake up call.  The signs are everywhere – on my drive home to Alpena last weekend, lake cottage after lake cottage was put up for sale, and my dad explained to me that it's because most of them are owned by GM/Ford workers, and with times as tight as these happen to be, the second homes are the first to go.  It's even more prevalent down here, near Detroit.  As I drove through Farmington yesterday after meeting a new friend for dinner, I noticed for the first time some of the beautiful old homes on Grand River up for sale; my boss says people have lost faith in Michigan and will soon be moving out in droves, and I guess it makes sense – we are a state built basically by the auto industry, and with said industry failing so spectacularly, many workers need to find other means of employment, which Michigan simply doesn't have right now.  Either one of two things will happen, according to assumed knowledge around here – we'll either go the way of Research Triangle Park in North Carolina, and become a booming corridor for health care and technology, or we'll experience a slow drain, workers moving to states that can provide some sort of employment.  Is it naive of me to believe in the possibility of renewal? To believe, that at it's heart, this change won't be such a bad thing, might even shake up the static unions and fixed-in-stone notions of a people? Truth be told, we've been living an inflated good life down here near Detroit, one replete with McMansions and fat pensions and eighty-dollar an hour jobs and summer homes and Hummers and reveling in our white flight life, and it was bound to go bust sometime.  Of course, that's easy for me to say, sitting here at 28 (almost 29) years of age, a good job, a nice rental, a reliable car… but still.  There's gotta be some hope.

In other news, today at work I learned that if you've been sunburned more than 5 times in your life, you have a fifty percent chance of getting skin cancer.  After that depressing statistic, I'm a bit more fatalistic. I mean, summer after summer after summer after summer Meriah and I used to oil ourselves from the cracks of our toes to our hairlines and prepare for the first burn of the summer, you know the one – the burn that hurts like hell but sets up your base tan for the rest of the summer, the one that means you won't burn again all summer long, no matter how long you stay out? Our tans used to be competitions, pulling down our straps to compare who was the darkest so far (Meriah always won, but only because she's naturally so dark) – and I don't even want to think about our family vacation to Jamaica, where I burned so badly my skin came off in long, dry streaks for a week afterwards.  I am, how would you say it, screwed. And it's a shame, too,because I tan beautifully – I'm all blond hair and freckles and brown skin in the summer and really, it's not ugly.   Of course, how this news stacks up against the latest recommendations to boost our Vitamin D levels by getting 20 – 30 minutes of sun each day possible, nobody has mentioned.

Really, in the long run, what are you going to do? If good health is an objective, it seems nearly impossible to accomplish any more – drink wine because it improves your heart – don't drink wine, it causes esophogeal cancer – get some sun each day to ward off 80 kinds of cancer – don't get sun, it causes melanoma – and on and on it goes.  I went for a run, a walkish run, today, and as my legs pounded the pavement I realized that the chances of being diagnosed with something, someday, are very, very great and I really can't spend my days thinking about how to ward it off.  At the very basis of good health, we know only a few things: don't smoke. Be as close to slender as you can be.  Eat plants. Move.  Watch your genetics.  Other than that, it's all really a crap shoot, yes?  I guess, in the end, it's only too bad that at sixteen we didn't appreciate all our bodies did for us, and all we can do now is appreciate them, for all their moles and aches and pains and quirks, because it's pretty doubtful from this point forward, whatever this point may be, that they're going to get a whole lot better.

So, carpe diem, I say – drink of the wine – eat of the chocolate – stay up late writing and sleep in late on Saturdays.  All this is finite – it's coming to an end.  The only mysteries are how, and when –

This entry was posted in Do I Dare to Eat A Peach, Everything In Between. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Transfer #21 from Blogspot

  1. blaadje says:

    Thanks for this great post, it was just the missing info that ui was looking for, for my study



  2. is it ok if i post here?

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