Rad State of Affairs

When i was 15 years old. I told my father that I wanted no part of this American dream. It wasn't for me. The house, the yard, The job i hate, the inability to do what i want, whenever i want, becuase i have to pay for what I don't need, and sometimes don't even want.

He understood my discust with greed. He was on the fence between offended, and excited for me. If my faith teaches me that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than it is for a rich man to get to heaven, why is it only proper to work your entire life to become rich? If pride is sinful, why do we dress in our finest clothes, that we pay a little bit extra for, and comb our hairs a certain way, and tuck our shirts in when we go to church on sunday? Why do we pray to God, to allow us to get that raise that will make our lives a little more comfortable? Was it a big deal that I may be "flipping burgers all my life and never making anything out of myself"?



Beyond that, why do our older conservative, chrisitan leaders/elders hound the youth to vote a certain way. If you vote democrat, you allow a door to be opened for abortion to run rampant. Our babies are being slaughtered by the millions. God should have decided when they died. Euthenasia will be come legal, our older most beloved people, will be able to kill themselves unchecked, just because life is pain. Lets strip God of his humanity for a second. As is. God is a creator. Once we proved faulty in the first place, We were to be destroyed. Thats the reason we have Christ, right? In that, maybe those little unborn babies, and Cancer ridden old ladies and men, and Terry Schiavo were pre-destined to die that way. Why do these same Conservative Christian Right heads tell us right from wrong with one hand, and then with the other hand, buy goods from parts of the world where indigenous/tribal/simple lives were either enslaved or slaughtered to take over the goods of the area at a cheaper price. Maybe it was God's will for a logging company to enslave a village in south america, Take their resources, and then kill the people after they were finished, so that we could buy the lumber to build our houses for half the price. Or force kids into a diamond mine for 18 hours a day so that we can pay a full month's salary to put a sparkly ring on our new bride's finger. Or to encrust the platinum that is going to cover up some jackass's top row of teeth.



The whole "American Dream" seemed to me, as far away from both my faith, and from the other end of the spectrum, the punk rock subculture that I wanted to be a part of. To me my faith didn't depend on if i drank, said fuck alot, or listened to fast shitty music. It was and is about how i treat people. How i can make someone's day better, how I can use what abilities i have to make someone's life easier. Be it through music, cooking, talking, driving, playing golf, whatever. I wanted everything i do to somehow lighten up someone's mood,nerves,day,life.

One day I wanted to have a wife and a house and kids and that stuff, but i wanted it simple, no more than i need. Nothing flashy.



Then I fell in love with a girl. She was a little out of my league. To boot, her family was a little better off than mine. They were the kind, tho, that weren't the type that i hated. That helped. After a 6 month engagement, we got married. The wedding was beautiful, but immediately, my simple bones threw in a stumbling block. I had about $400 saved up to take with us onour honeymoon. That was a substancial amount of money for me then, and even now. A few weeks prior, i thought to myself. The day after our wedding, we are driving to virginia for our honeymoon, why do we need to spend $100 on a hotel the night after our wedding.

So, i cancelled the room. When we got to my apartment, I realized that I hadn't cleaned or made the bed or anything. It was a let down for her. It was a big one. In my mind, it wasn't a huge deal, outside of my mother, who is as much like another guy, I hadn't really gained the understanding of how certain things were super special to women. My mom had alot of let downs in her life, and laughed about them, and didn't seem bothered. I figured everything was as little of a deal to every woman as it was to her. This was something that i didn't know was going to be something had a lasting impact on not only my marriage, but also, the way that my wife viewed me as a husband. I had always had to struggle to get by, so it was nothing new to me. I think for the first time, she realized that it wasn't going to be easy, and that the fact that i was that used to not having or doing, wasn't going to make it any easier on her. I didn't realize any of this at the time tho, She told me some years later. It made me want to die.

She was always super supportive of irom. I wanted to quit a few times. She refused to let me. She told me that since at the time she had no ambition in life, she would share mine and do what it took here at home to make things work for me to tour or whatever. She's a good woman.
We made ends meet, and it was easier than i had expected.

As life goes on, we recieved an offer on a house. It would make our house payment $75 more. Suddenly I had a mortgage. That following year, Crystals car started messing up, So we Bought her a new car. Nothing had really changed that much, we were making a little bit more money, so it was helping out a little bit, but then, after irom/takenaway weren't doing anything anymore, and everyone was kind of in a standstill in life, My wife got pregnant and we had a baby. With that, i decided that my pickup truck wasn't the right car for a family, so i bought a mini van.

So today, I'm here, dead center in the middle of my 20's. I have a house, a fenced in yard, Dogs, a minivan, a receiding hair line, a wife and a baby. I wake up and drink coffee, and go to my desk job. I talk about how bad i hate it. I have high blood pressure, My wife works, and we make ends meet. The same thing we did form day one, just with more shit.

So i wonder. Have I been living the american dream all this time?
Did i trip over something and fall into it?
Is it something unavoidable?
Or is it a process that can be used to describe each and every one of our walks through life.

Maybe my dad understood becasue that was him 30 years ago.

Maybe