Photo by djwhelan. Essay by Bob Lefsetz: July 3, 2008
They said life would never be the same after 9/11.
But somehow it was.
Sure, the government kept telling us to be aware of terrorist attacks, but despite some anthrax being mailed around in the weeks after the Twin Towers fell, nothing ever happened. Sure, we ultimately had to take off our shoes as we went through airport security, but life was surprisingly just like it had always been. Citizens shopped as our President urged them to. Kids went to school, parents bought SUVs and life wasn’t much different than it was in the nineties.
Until a couple of months ago. When gasoline suddenly spiked. When suddenly a jaunt to buy a quart of milk, to rent a DVD, was no longer a mindless decision, but something to be debated. Was it worth the cost of the gas?
We’ve been living in ignorance for far too long. Thinking some men in white robes were looking out for us. But they just turned out to be profiteers, paying lip service to bettering society, but really only interested in lining their pockets. Now, to be an average citizen is to contemplate one’s future. One’s economic future. No one’s worrying about whether a bomb is going to hit their city, rather whether they’ll have enough money to put food on the table.
The airlines are collapsing. Even Toyota took a hit, while GM heads toward possible bankruptcy. America’s fate may no longer be intertwined with the world’s largest car manufacturer, but if your corporate institutions are struggling, the effect is felt by people who don’t even own an automobile.
We no longer produce the steel in our cars, our clothes are made overseas and it seems the only thing we make is money. And, our financial institutions are not even that good at that. Bear Stearns had to be rescued for the good of the overall economy. While we were out fighting terror, making the world safe for democracy, we lost a bunch of our freedoms and America lost a great deal of its power.
China owns not only many of our buildings, but a ton of our debt. Our fate is inextricably hooked to this eastern country. They could bring our economy to its knees instantly. And, for all our efforts in the Middle East, Iraq is still not secure and Afghanistan is in turmoil. But what hurts most is the American people. Without pensions and health care. With more bills than money.
It’s almost beyond blame. We’re in a quagmire. The only question is how to get out. Whether to stay the course or try something new. Then, the man standing for change abruptly changes his positions and we feel that the only people looking out for ourselves is us.
Drink that beer, eat that hot dog, enjoy that parade. Have a good Fourth. But know that finally, everything truly is different. Whether it be natural disasters caused by global warming or the inability to afford a cross-country trip. The American way of life has taken a hit.
We’re all in this together. That inner city gang member is not far removed from the person flying in the private jet. No one is immune. We’re all members of society. How do we change for the better?
I don’t know.
But it’s time we started speaking the truth.
I’d hope the politicians could achieve this.
But the politicians always follow the artists. The artist, unencumbered, speaking from his heart, leads the way.
In the name of lifestyle, in the name of riches, our musical artists have abdicated their responsibility. And somehow the blame has been put upon the public, for stealing their wares, denying the fat cats their profits. The movie studios abolished reality long ago, and the television outlets have manufactured a false reality to sell to a numb public, just looking for a little release.
It’s palpable. Something’s changed. And there’s no easy solution. Gas is not going back down to three dollars a gallon, never mind two. There’s a cloud over our everyday activities. And we’ve got no confidence positive change is in the wind, never mind achievable. They tell us to party like it’s 1999, but those days are long gone.
Driving home from the doctor in the fading heat of a long summer day I heard Don Henley’s “The End Of The Innocence” on the radio. I remembered 1989, when the record was ubiquitous. When MTV still played videos and everybody with an established career sold millions of albums. When my wife left our home behind. In the shock of that event, the only thing that soothed me was music. I drove around pushing the button, longing to hear “The End Of The Innocence”, longing to feel rooted, connected to something.
I don’t need a bigger house. I don’t need two dollar a gallon gas. I jus need to feel connected, to feel that I’m not crazy, that other people are freaked out too, are shocked at what’s happened to our country. I need the musicians to speak the collective truth. To put words and sounds to what we feel. To point us in the proper direction. Because I’m lost.
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