Pining for the days of yore, like any cranky dinosaur surely must
Cranky, old dinosaurs live in the past. Or so succeeding generations claim, often legitimately.
Thus news stories last week -- a barometer of a society in motion -- found me pining for the days of yore. Days when a nation was jolted to a shared introspection by the words of a president. When a nation united to share the scientific and human adventure of space travel. When a simple "no" hadn't become obsolete from disuse.
Early death likely sealed John F. Kennedy's legacy at a mythical level he didn't really deserve. His big intervention, the Bay of Pigs, was no more successful than the current one, which leaves the chair next to mine empty courtesy of a National Guardsman's orders to Iraq. But still, the guy whose words called a nation to "we" instead of "me" must be rolling in his Arlington National Cemetery grave.
"Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country," seems hopelessly naïve now, doesn't it?
The suffix "-American" is attached to identifiers like a remora to a shark, but few see the world through the ideas that define us as a nation -- individual freedom and the rule of law above all else. It is instead viewed through a prism focused on personal gender, race, religion, origin or sexual orientation. Few ponder any service that might inconvenience them, and national goals don't exist.
We can't protect our own borders, ports or shuttles (from foam, no less), let alone sustain a decade of invention, courage and sheer hubris like that which defined the American space program.
National health care? Nothing more than an effort to take money from one group to pay for the health care demands of another, even as current programs bankrupt us.
Immigration "reform"? Nothing more than the result of our pathological inability to say "no" to employers and illegal entrants simply by enforcing current law.
We dinosaurs blame most of the so-called problems of the day on society's singular inability to speak the word "no" out loud and mean it. Just for the novelty of it, let's try a "no"-heavy dialogue.
No, not everybody's a winner, no matter how many trophies you pass out. No, we're not all equal. There are huge differences in talent, ambition, desire and effort. And no, you aren't entitled to have it just because you want it.
No, we shouldn't support or give endless attention to cheating, dog-fighting, raping or alcohol- and drug-riddled athletes. Or those in black and white stripes who cheat, either. And no, being "of color," a divisive generalization of little discernible meaning, doesn't absolve you of the consequences of your choices, either.
No, it isn't right to make one tiny group of taxpayers, smokers, pay for big state programs that ought to be financed the we're-all-in-this-together way. It's a dead giveaway the programs can't be sold on merit.
No, we're not buying that cockamamie defense that you had no idea your child's party with friends included alcohol. No parent of a teenager believes it and such willful ignorance on the part of a parent is just as big a sin anyway.
And no, don't expect someone else to save your rear if you tried to play the system or live beyond your means, took a sub-prime or adjustable rate deal and now can't pay the piper. You signed the papers, not them.
Welcome to Dinosaur Land, where people handled their own personal business and "nation" and "no" had some meaning.