Attitude
Once again Ifind myself bored at work, wasting time, and with a bad attitude. To be honest, I am not in a mood to write. I am sure even Stephen King does not want to write sometimes. But geez, I have to do something to kill the time. We work ten hour days, five or six days per week. Often, like today, there is little to do. We worked one job for an hour, completed it, then drove to another and completed it within half an hour. That has been my whole day up until now. We had a leisurely breakfast; worked; kicked back for a long lunch; worked; then took a relaxing nap. I have read the paper, done both crossword puzzles, gone shopping. I cleaned the truck, inside and out. Now I am sitting at a construction site with three hours to squander until quitting time, and I am bored silly. Like I said, I'm not in the mood to write. Normally, I will write when I have something I want to say; either to someone else, or just myself. But at the moment, I feel like Henry Miller working on The Tropic of Cancer. Rambling. This book, written in 1932 and released here in 1961, is a must read for anyone who has ever penned a line of poetry or struggled with a description. However, leave it alone if you enjoy good stories. It has been called an American classic, but even Miller concedes that it is not a novel, nor literature, nor even poetry. It is poetic and superb imagery. The only thing classically American about it is its use of profanity. Not as much as a Spike Lee movie, but enough to definately label it American. It is not just the language which caused Miller to be banned here, but also his blatant disregard for authority. Ironic, considering that disregard for authority and censorship are as American as apple pie. Only attitude is more a part of our culture than hiding thoughts or telling the powers that be to kiss off. Actually, we borrowed apple pie from the Germans. We also took several of our curse words from them; wonderful harsh sounds that display disgust and anger like no other language. And let's face it, everybody has a mom. But when it comes to attitude, we are in a class by ourselves. Not even the French can match us in our pride and arrogance. Our country was founded on attitude, and it continues today. "Don't tread on me." "My only regret is that I have but one life to give for my country." "Sir, I have not yet begun to fight." We are very proud of this attitude: we can kick butt, and never grovel for any reason. Admittedly, there is an appeal to never bending knee; doing the right thing regardless of consequence. But lately, we seem to be revering the attitude without remembering the virtue behind it which was the reason for the attitude to begin with. Today, even apathy and ignorance are acceptable if served up with enough attitude. This is evidenced, among other places, on two popular tee-shirt slogans I have seen around town lately: "don't ask me 4 shit" and "I don't know shit." Of course, no one can tell us to lighten up; we can still kick butt better than anyone in the world. And we know it. "My child beat up your honor student." "Damn the torpedos, full speed ahead." "Remember the Alamo." "Just do it." "No fear." "Kill 'em all, let God sort 'em out." Okay, I'll admit that last one was actually first said by a pope during the crusades. It was in response as to what to do about several thousands of men, women, and children prisoners captured from a razed city. The problem was that they may or may not have had Saracen sympathies: "Slay them. God will recognize his own." It just sounds so much like us, we adopted it as ours. In a world of bi-pedal carnivores, we are the top predator; and proud of it. As rough and tumble as Americans are in general, we southerners are supposed to be more prone to violence. Recent theory cites two reasons: heredity and rural living. There are more Scots, Welsh, and Irish peoples settled here than any other part of the country. Being Irish, I am a bit biased, but I must admit to at least some truth to the hard drinking, hard fighting stereotype. Being much more rural than our northern brethen for most of our history, we supposedly developed a "herder" mentality. That is to say, we protected our possessions and herds by promising massive retaliation for wrongs done to us. We became more self sufficient with our law enforcement and protection because we had fewer cops and more wide open spaces. Supposedly, we still think that way today. From the sound of it, the Pentagon is also being run by Celts. The threat of massive retaliation is still the calling card of our nuclear policy. The herder mentality theory may have some validity, but I have doubts about the heredity. It doesn't explain the rest of the country for one thing. Besides, the Celts may have been great warriors, but modern Scotland and Ireland are peaceful places relative to us. Ireland has a nasty reputation, perhaps due to the IRA. But they have five or six times the population of my native Hillsborough county, and less than a tenth of the crime rate. Even with all the newsmaking bombings and snipings, they only lose a dozen or less people to murder each year. Here in Tampa, that is just a busy weekend. I don't pretend to be civilized; I am not a peaceful man. I believe there are times when a violent solution is best. I also believe the world will probably be better off once the last of my kind is gone. That is not self pity or loathing, merely a nod to peace. You see, I don't object to a cocky attitude; confidence is wonderful. If you think you can accomplish greatness, you sometimes can. I object to the love affair we have begun with the image of being tough. Middle America has embraced the attitudes of the streets; Obiwan has gone over to the dark side. You want to be the best, a legend? You want to be tough? Cool! Then be tough, be a legend, don't just look the part. Be the best parent and friend possible. That is tough enough. Be the type of legendary lover your partner can't wait to come home to. Be strong enough to do what is right, not what is popular. If you can do that, you will be one up on me and almost all the other people living here. Geez, I'm preaching again! You see what happens when I get bored? Man, I've got to get a new job. One last point and I will cease this rambling. I promise. Motorcycles, tatoos, and piercings are now very popular with middle-aged, middle class people; so are handguns. I think any excuse for someone to ride is a good one; I have been a biker all my adult life. I don't have any tatoos; just never got around to getting one. I seldom wear my ear ring because it is now just jewlery. But, I have a problem with weapons being chic. They are now part of the image; a tough, sexy accessory. Concealed permits are at an all time high. Most of my friends with any disposable income at all, own one. I support a person's right to bear arms. If you need or want a weapon, you should have it. But when did guns become sexy; killing become desirable? For one reason or another, I carried a weapon most of my life. And when you carry one, you use it. I no longer carry. In fact, I no longer even own a firearm. I have always prefered blades; they require more skill to use and do only as much damage as you want them to do. Guns are too efficient and easy to use. Besides, when I had my .357 on me, I grew two feet taller. I prefer my normal five feet four. I wear my leathers for protection, not as a fashion statement. I carried a weapon for the same reason. If hurting someone was a necessity, it was just that, a necessity. It was never glamorous, good, right, or fun. Like I said earlier, I don't argue that weapons are needed by some people, even though they are no longer needed by me. Does this put me at risk from some punk with a Saturday night special? Maybe. But I am more willing to die these days than to kill; and if you carry a hand gun, you must accept killing as the reason you have it. I know vegetarians who do not hunt (moral reasons) but carry a gun for protection. They would never hurt an animal for sport or meat, but would not blink an eye to blow a hole in someone for molesting them, or even sometimes, for molesting an animal. Several upscale friends of mine have the same fantasy of killing an intruder in their home. Maybe this is not attitude, but the pent up frustrations of our seemingly ineffective court system. I don't know. But it scares the hell out of me. When I was a street punk, that was a life I wanted to grow away from, escape. Today, it is something to aspire toward. We are not a peaceful people, and people are not a peaceful animal. We are the baddest of the bad. Okay, I accept this. But if we are so tough and so confident, how about if we act like it. Ever had a beer in a biker bar? Despite the reputation, they're one of the safest places to relax and hang out. Ever seen an English bull terrier? These powerful jawed and muscular canines are pound for pound the toughest dogs on the planet, having been bred to fight other dogs in the pit. They also have the most pleasant dispositions towards people, children, even other dogs. They know how tough they are, they have nothing to prove. I like that little dog's attitude. ©MichaelWest
Get your own Free Home Page©AngelaGschwind1997