As with many great thoughts and analogies that occur in the grey matter that lies within the perimeters of my skull, a recent exchange of political thoughts for the week brought about one of my best analogies for the period of chaos we are in. My great friend, perhaps best friend - we'll call him CJ for now, was telling me his take on the recent events in our state capital and the national news. I shot back with my own tidbits of intelligent, incoherent ramblings. And then, like a bolt of static electricity, it finally hit me what I feel like with the current administration in the White House. Here's a brief summary:
"Do you remember when you were little and you were in the backseat of the car and suddenly Dad takes an unfamiliar exit? And you're traveling out of state in unfamiliar territory? And all of a sudden the talk stops and it gets really quiet in the car? You sense something is really wrong but there really is no indication of it? And Mom just keeps giving your Dad these looks and he just keeps looking forward? Somewhere, out of a sense of your own well-being, you ask Dad that first question - 'Where are we?' Suddenly, out of frustration you hear Dad lose it with the 'Just be quiet!!!' Now you can really feel the tension as you see the knuckles start to turn white on the steering wheel. Then Mom ask the second worse question she could possibly ask - 'Are you sure we should have taken that exit?' The silence from Dad is so loud your ears pop. And you're in the backseat with no idea what state you're even in because you were reading a book or listening to music or you were doing any kind of mindless brain exercises because you still have a thousand years before you're supposed to get there. That really freaked out feeling is overwhelming. You're not even legal to drive yet but suddenly you're feeling a little bit more in control of the car than the driver. Every part of self-preservation is telling you to jump from the car but shock has immobilized your muscles. And then, as if the situation wasn't bad enough, your brother or sister who always seems to throw your dad over that final edge of the abyss into madness, decides to take his or her headphones off and looks around. And then asks the absolute worse question imaginable - 'Are we lost?' Now, your dad, who's been fighting the impulse of murderous rage, finally unloads with the profanity and expletives that always causes your mom to do that complete body cringe. Now she's in complete 'momma bear' mode. 'Why don't you just pull over and ask someone for directions?' Now mom might be able to budget food for a complete month with the resources for two weeks but in this area she's a wee bit lackin' in the common sense area herself. Dad yells back a few more un-repeatable words and she yells back his name using all three names. You know the situation's bad and you just wish dad would stop somewhere and just ask directions but silence seems to be the safest route. Finally, when the gas guage becomes the great authority, dad gives in to reality and knows that he must pull in somewhere for gas and directions. Pride has created a fifty mile detour in the wrong direction. And you dare not repeat the events of this story until your own children are sitting there with 'pa pa' and everyone has a good laugh about it. But it takes a couple of decades to see the humor."
We all have stories like that. Our parents, or grandparents, or foster parents, or whoever, have let their pride and self-importance lead them down a path that they just couldn't possibly turn around from. I remember how much I hated that backseat as I got older. As the years have passed, and I've been in the driver seat myself for more years then I care to remember, I have learned on a few occasions that it is better to stop and ask for help. Especially if I have people in my car that I'm responsible for. Now, multiply that scenario by a few billion and see if pride or self-importance are any kind of excuse for the trip we're on now. And watch as more and more of your own loved ones keep eyeing the door handle as the vehicle we're in keeps running down this wrong path. Like I said, I hate the backseat. And mom (the other leaders in this country and the media) just can't get dad to stop and ask for directions. And even he knows we're running out of gas. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.
"Do you remember when you were little and you were in the backseat of the car and suddenly Dad takes an unfamiliar exit? And you're traveling out of state in unfamiliar territory? And all of a sudden the talk stops and it gets really quiet in the car? You sense something is really wrong but there really is no indication of it? And Mom just keeps giving your Dad these looks and he just keeps looking forward? Somewhere, out of a sense of your own well-being, you ask Dad that first question - 'Where are we?' Suddenly, out of frustration you hear Dad lose it with the 'Just be quiet!!!' Now you can really feel the tension as you see the knuckles start to turn white on the steering wheel. Then Mom ask the second worse question she could possibly ask - 'Are you sure we should have taken that exit?' The silence from Dad is so loud your ears pop. And you're in the backseat with no idea what state you're even in because you were reading a book or listening to music or you were doing any kind of mindless brain exercises because you still have a thousand years before you're supposed to get there. That really freaked out feeling is overwhelming. You're not even legal to drive yet but suddenly you're feeling a little bit more in control of the car than the driver. Every part of self-preservation is telling you to jump from the car but shock has immobilized your muscles. And then, as if the situation wasn't bad enough, your brother or sister who always seems to throw your dad over that final edge of the abyss into madness, decides to take his or her headphones off and looks around. And then asks the absolute worse question imaginable - 'Are we lost?' Now, your dad, who's been fighting the impulse of murderous rage, finally unloads with the profanity and expletives that always causes your mom to do that complete body cringe. Now she's in complete 'momma bear' mode. 'Why don't you just pull over and ask someone for directions?' Now mom might be able to budget food for a complete month with the resources for two weeks but in this area she's a wee bit lackin' in the common sense area herself. Dad yells back a few more un-repeatable words and she yells back his name using all three names. You know the situation's bad and you just wish dad would stop somewhere and just ask directions but silence seems to be the safest route. Finally, when the gas guage becomes the great authority, dad gives in to reality and knows that he must pull in somewhere for gas and directions. Pride has created a fifty mile detour in the wrong direction. And you dare not repeat the events of this story until your own children are sitting there with 'pa pa' and everyone has a good laugh about it. But it takes a couple of decades to see the humor."
We all have stories like that. Our parents, or grandparents, or foster parents, or whoever, have let their pride and self-importance lead them down a path that they just couldn't possibly turn around from. I remember how much I hated that backseat as I got older. As the years have passed, and I've been in the driver seat myself for more years then I care to remember, I have learned on a few occasions that it is better to stop and ask for help. Especially if I have people in my car that I'm responsible for. Now, multiply that scenario by a few billion and see if pride or self-importance are any kind of excuse for the trip we're on now. And watch as more and more of your own loved ones keep eyeing the door handle as the vehicle we're in keeps running down this wrong path. Like I said, I hate the backseat. And mom (the other leaders in this country and the media) just can't get dad to stop and ask for directions. And even he knows we're running out of gas. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.
No comments:
Post a Comment