The state of the union is...tired. It's overwrought, cold and hungry, and irascible. We're moving into the second year of "lockdown" and many good Americans don't want to be told what to do anymore. No matter their health, or the health of other people. They fret and whine about their "freedom." Yet they are the first to remind me and my ilk that "freedom isn't free." They want it both ways, but that is not on the menu.
Our cities are dotted with homeless camps, shuttered shops, and crumbling infrastructure. The Congress has a few members who openly advocate political assassination and call themselves "patriots," yet they can't seem to summon the courage to support the impeachment of a president who openly called for insurrection and even promised to join the mob. He openly lied for 4 years and then warned his supporters that they needed to "take back the country." Will they continue to fight for it? Are we our own enemy? Do they really know what they are getting themselves into?
The openly fatigued populace would rather just forget. They deaden themselves daily anyway, what's another item on the list to avoid. The evidence is omnipresent. Alcohol, recreational drugs, addictive drugs, pain killers, and paraphernalia abound. Abound on the ground. All around. The town. Count the number of TV commercials for pharmaceuticals each evening. Try to get the advertising jingle out of your head the next day. Listen to the fast-talking pitchman speed-read the warnings that accompany each package.
Yet we persevere. We photograph the beauty that surrounds us and hear the music and taste the food of many cultures nearby. Just yesterday I photographed a tree stump with a breathtaking array of mushrooms growing from the cracks and layers. Somehow, amid the complaints and sour dispositions of our fellow beings comes a new appreciation for what we do have and the life we may yet regain. Does a glass of wine suddenly taste better? How about a cup of coffee?
We need to be reminded that we are living history these days. People will ask us in the days yet to come, how it was. How we got by, kept optimistic, or if we did. They'll want to know what we saw, how our lives changed, and what consequences remain.
We will live a record.
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