A culture of self-destruction

There are many many things about American Culture that are fascinating, but this one may take the cake (or kill the constituents) more so than all others. Take the cake in the sense that it is so much more widespread here in North America than elsewhere, or kill the constituents in the sense that this culture of self-destruction is amazingly accomplished or at the very least leads to much of the crime that this country is facing; either way destruction follows closely.

I was having a lovely conversation with my youngest daughter who is one very tough yet compassionate chick (she plays hockey on the varsity BOYS team!). She wants to help everyone she meets. Yet she confessed to me in our lovely conversation this morning (between traveling trips for me, making it all the more important and lovely) that there is not much you can do to help people bent on destruction. People determined to have the most irresponsible sex you can imagine, determined to try every illegal drug available, determined to get high at every opportunity, determined to diminish all morals, determined - we agreed - to self destruct. There is not much you can do to help those bent on self-destruction.

As Sam Levenson’s father told him when he was about five years old, “son, if you ever need a helping hand, there is always one at the end of your arm.” A lesson few seem to know or understand in the modern world and one that I tried to teach my daughter today. Only those who are willing to take some responsibility for their pursuit of self-destruction are potential candidates for help. You can’t help those who aren’t interested in being helped . . . the entire horse and water story in a nutshell. Nor can you change those who are convinced that irresponsibility is the rite of adulthood, as are the vast majority of the high school students in my daughter’s school. Perhaps all high schools?

As I said in my opening volley, these seem to be particularly North American traits, “due to the fall of the traditional family“ as I was told in church this past week. But these matters are not the centerpiece of youth culture in other countries who haven’t had a ”traditional“ family structure for decades. so can we really blame the fall of the traditional for a current culture of self-destruction? I think not. Moreover I think there is a tie-in here to the piercing, tatooing, and now cutting trends seen in the youth cultures of North America. While there are many people out there far more qualified than I to assess these trends, as a father of three teenagers, I think that my understanding carries some small weight and I think these trends come from a society bent of the pursuit of self-expression at the cost of logic and reason. ”We aren’t in the age of logic and reason any longer“ some would quickly say, and for once we would agree. But nevertheless, without a voice of reason in a world of self indulgence, one rarely finds a higher reason for living. Lost is the chance to live ofr others, God, eternity or family. What other possible conclusion can they find then in this world, except out of leisure, wealth and boredom they destroy themselves? A culture of self-destruction indeed.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

The clocks are ticking. Especially here, at my parents house, in the deep country, where the ticking of the clocks are the loudest thing going. I am not talking only about those noisy (relatively) things with pointers that endlessly go round and round either.

Today is my parents 50th Anniversary. That clock has been ticking a long long time, even longer than me! :-) It is a huge milestone that few reach. According to Divorce Magazine.com only 5% of all marriages reach the 50 year mark . . . or another way of viewing that statistic is that 95% of all marriages do not last 50 years. Kudos to my parents, number one for raising me - a most cantankerous child, number two for staying together when it would have been so easy to go their own individual paths. I am humbled and amazed that my folks are so special.

But this morning at 3:18am when I woke up and could not fall back to sleep, I realized that their clock is ticking. Health issues are eroding their quality of life. That clock has now become an enemy of sorts. While they have beaten it by staying together 50 years, it will still win in the end, and it appears much sooner than later.

I also realized that my clock is ticking as well in the quiet of the sleepless night. 47 years old is such a big number . . . to my 16 year old especially, not so big to my parents, and a childishly small number to my grandparents who are almost 90 years old and still pushing cows around with their walking canes. But everything works a little slower than I think it should, heals slower, comes to mind slower, decisions are slower, even my definition of fast is slower. Yes the clock is ticking.

I guess than means it is a good day to make it count. Tick Tock Tick Tock go the loud clocks out in the country . . . make 'em count.