My personal musings about anything that gets on my radar screen--heavily dominated by politics.


I Recognize This Syndrome 

I used to love exploring: going new places, seeing new things, wandering off the beaten path . . . I look at these as opportunities for growth: every adventure into some unknown is also an exploration of my will and character. I used to prefer the challenge of the unknown, at whatever risk. In fact, last summer I had the chance to take the family on a “safe” version of exploring: five days driving around the American southwest. I learned on that trip that my character, especially these days, is nothing compared to the character of the original settlers of that region.

Consider this journey in today’s terms: I intend to strike out over land with my family and everything we possess to go into basically empty land. I don’t really have a destination in mind, but I’ll know it when I find it. Rumor has it that there are gangs and strange cult-like organizations in the region, but that doesn’t deter me. Also, I have no reliable weather information, so at a moment’s notice I know I could be buried in a blizzard or a torrential rainstorm—or have weeks on end without any precipitation. I don’t know the terrain, though I’ve heard it’s lovely and unforgiving; and I don’t have any idea if there are any convenience stores along the way. And, oh yeah, I’ll be travelling by horse and carriage, and there is no cell phone reception where I’m going.

First off, this whole adventure—in today’s terms—would be scuttled because no insurance carrier would be willing to underwrite the trip. But I digress . . .

When I get somewhere interesting, I intend to hike over mountains and cross rivers, to go where there is no path, and to keep going until I find something that seems like it could be home. If that requires me to push the carriage up a steep slope in the midday heat, travelling at 4 miles per hour for days on end, then that is what I’ll do. My family may get tired, they may get sick—in fact they may die in the journey—but I know it’s what I should be doing. Someday I’ll reach a place where I can drive a few stakes in the ground to put a roof over our heads and where I can make things grow so that we can live. Someday.

This would be considered absolute madness today. But it seems to be almost exactly what would have had to happen for the first explorers 100 years ago to find places like Mesa Verde and Antelope Canyon. Heck, my family got sick doing just the drive up to Mesa Verde and back down the plateau—the men who made that trek to find the Cliff Dwellings had it WAY rougher than we did.

And it occurred to me: our forefathers were made of far, far sterner stuff than we are in latter-day America. And that is what the Health Care debate really was about.

More tomorrow. . .

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