11.26.05

I'm out at the Mothership, cleaning and picking up loose ends, and looking at the deluge of holiday catalogs that have come for me.

Argh.

Does anybody really need this much?

I've got a lot of stuff. More than I should. I know it and am getting rid of stuff. It boggles my feeble mind that anyone could want, need, or desire any more shit. How much is enough?

I mean, c'mon, we've got television shows about people with too much shit. And they're popular. AGH!

Having been in total control of my television-viewing for the past few weeks has affected my well-trained, consumer self. Oh, I still want things--like books, and bazookas ('cause you Never Know), and other, alliterative goodies--but I ain't panicked about getting 'em. I need food. I need stuff to read. I need drink. I need to tango. *giggle*

I don't need 43DD silicone tits, whiter teeth, thinner thighs, or younger-looking skin to enjoy them. Don't need an SUV that uses enough gas in a week to power an electrical generator for an entire village for a year.

I don't mind the occasional indulgence, but we've become a culture of over-indulged children.

Here's a story; when I was a child, we went to the family cabin in the Adirondack Mountains every summer.

On the way to the cabin, we stopped at Oscar's Smokehouse for fresh-made bacon, cheese, and other one-time-a-year treats. Mmm-mmm. It was such a treat to have such great food at Camp.

As we left to go back to DC, we'd buy a pound of bacon. For a little while longer, I could taste the good times at Camp. But when it was done, it was done. I remember how bittersweet it was to eat that last piece of bacon. I'd nibble away at it, trying to make it last as long as possible. Eventually, it had to end.

When my ex- and I went to Camp (which he never really got) he bought craploads of Oscar's stuff--mostly because he liked it. When we left, he bought 10 lbs. of bacon. He reasoned that we'd have it all year.

It didn't taste as good. Not that it had gone bad. No. Part of the enjoyment came from knowing that it couldn't last. That there was no way to have it and keep it. You simply had to enjoy what was now.

(Hmmm. Bacon-eating as a way to understand one of the four truths. Hmmph.) (*laugh*)

That's what's wrong with our culture now. It never ends. There's always more. More food. More stuff to own. More clothing to wear. More. More. More.

How can we appreciate when we're being treated to a special indulgence, if we're being treated all the time? How can we understand anything, if we never experience its other sides?

Whoa. I had no intention of going off on this wee, philosophical tangent. Dang.

Y'know what makes it funnier? In two weeks I'm going to be in Vegas. Talk about an entire town that's a monument to our culture's excesses...oy.

Go. Be fabulous.

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