A Journey of a Thousand Miles ...
by Jim Wetzel

... begins with a single step:

Step 1 – We admitted we were powerless over our addiction – that our lives had become unmanageable.
Here is a little glimpse into those unmanageable lives:
ST. PAUL, Minn. – The president and first lady were surprised but thrilled by the selection of Sarah Palin to be John McCain's running mate, Laura Bush said Monday in her first reflection on the GOP national ticket.
"I'm proud I'm going to get my wish to vote for a Republican woman," Mrs. Bush said.

O Modern Conservative: it's time for you to take a long, unblinking look into the mirror.
You have a problem. You have an elephant problem.

You felt strong and carefree when you tipped back the glass and voted for Ronnie Reagan. I'm not being all holier-than-thou here ... I took a big snort of Ol' Ronnie, too.

You felt all stylish and grownup and sophisticated with your George Herbert Walker Bush cocktail in '88. So did I. I know how it was.

You had another shot of Bush One in '92. I didn't join you for that one – I was in my first step or two – but I understand. Anything would be better than Billy C., right?

Next time, no more happy party atmosphere; you were drinking purely for anesthesia. You held your nose, steeled your gut, and tossed back an oily-looking glass of Dole '96. Didn't taste good, did it? And oooohh, man – that aftertaste! Especially when, within months, you were seeing Viagra commercials featuring Bobby D., and Pepsi commercials in which he was creepily drooling over tomorrow's megaskank, Britney Spears. Good times, huh?

Then, in 2K, things just got worse. You found yourself back drinking out of the Ol' Bush jug – the newer vintage this time – without being able to remember why. Same story in '04. Both times, the alternative seemed to involve another beverage from That Other Distillery that also didn't seem particularly healthy. (You were right – it wasn't – but you had alternatives that went unexplored.)

And now, here it is, 2008, and you find yourself facing yet another Most Important Election Ever. (Funny how that seems to happen at clock-regular four-year intervals, isn't it?) "Aw, what the heck," you say, "one more can't hurt."

Wait. Stop. Look at the mirror. Like what you see? Do you look like that stylish, debonair fellow – only a little tipsy! – out celebrating on the town, the guy you thought you remembered being? Or do you look more like a stinking, unshaven stumblebum who's about to be kicked out of yet another downscale bar?

Come on – let's get a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Bankrupt though you are, one thing you really can afford is a big ol' double shot of the truth, and I'm buying. Truth is, you don't have a "movement." Truth is, you don't have a political party. Truth is, you don't have a voice in the media. You have a rough, rough road ahead of you. I don't see any political "success" in your future. You're going to have to admit that you've been wrong about some things, and foolish about many more things still.

There are a few good things that you can look forward to, though. You can look forward to speaking honestly, without any regard for "party unity" or the necessity of winning this year's Most Important Election Ever. You'll be able to call a clown a clown, and not have to choke down your gorge as you make excuses for the inexcusable. You'll be able to exercise what George Orwell said was the essence of freedom: being able to say that two and two make four. And when the question is "what's the cube root of 537" and you're temporarily in doubt, you'll be able to just say so. It's liberating.

Anyway, I'm Jim Wetzel, and I'm a recovering conservative. I've been sober for a little over eighteen years now. There's a meeting here every single day, and there are daily meetings in lots of other places, too.

I'm hoping to see you around.

September 22, 2008

Jim Wetzel is a full-time optical engineer and part-time physics instructor in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

the Greatest Generation is what the Depression era babies are called. That would be my parents generation. Ozzie and Harriet. Camelot. Chevrolets. a house in the suburbs and a 9-5 career in the city.

The Baby Boomers were many. That is me...smack dab in the middle of the largest group of babies to hit the market place and be catered to with food, clothes, educations, trinkets and the American Dream we were to expect from our confident and exhultant parents and their pollyanna world.

But we were too many. We made our parents generation wealthy beyond imagination by the way they catered to our wants and needs with Wall street and Madison Ave. phing our wallets and promising prosperity.

But we were too many and we had to scratch and claw and play by different rules to get ahead of the competition.

And while we were clawing and scratching and making the information age and consumerism flourish, we were too busy to pay attention to the world around us and believe in it the way our parents believed in it.

Dubbed the ME generation for good reason.


Funny how it went.

funny how it goes.

funny how it is.


Were they really the Greatest Generation?


Really, were they?

Obama reflects that utopian image we were spoon fed with.

Is Obama the New Camelot?


Nope.

as CS LEWIS said, "truth never happenms the same way twice."

Baby boomers aren't embracing that idealism.

We are experienced in this life. We know better.

We know the Greatest Generation used us and profitted by us and held on to that prosperity, not to deprive us, but because they never wanted to revisit the Great Depression again.


No, we weren't too busy sipping in old sage, we were busy assimilating everything idealistic about America and trying to get that ease that the fewer numbers of our parent's generation enjoyed in terms of having a young and energetic and abundant crop of consumers to cater to, domestically.


The psychology of American Life is complex, sophisticated, competitive, shrewd, innovative, demanding, and overpowering.

Ego driven madness to be at the top of the heap and wear the Greatest generation's crown.


Bravo.

We have been so busy chopping wood, we didn't stop to sharpen our axes.

It wasn't given us to pace life, it was thrown at us in a blur and we were told to bide our time and wait our turn.

Now we have the levers of power.

The baby boomers have the throttle.

The Greatest Generation changed the game on us in 1971, while we were still in college and at university and starting careers in their businesses.

No, they changed the game and gave us the dregs with Hamiltonian economics and avarice and greed.

They didn't giveus what they had, they gave us something better for them.


No.

Camelot is a dream, not reality.

Ozzie and Harriet were not real, only idealistic imaginations of wishful thinking.

They changed the game in 1971, while some of us were dying, and others fleeing, and others rebelling, and others falling into complacent apathetic appeasement.


We got this.

It is our job.

It is our responsibility.

We know what they did.

We are their legacy.

No more.

We got this.

Wait a while obama.

you have some things to learn yet.


Let's get it on, Mc cain.

You know what we have been battling through.

You are us.

We are you.

We will fix this.

Even though some of us, like Bills R Us and W. battle from their ivory tower lives to inherit the greatest generations dream and have forgotten who we are. We are not our father's generation.