As you may know from a couple of posts ago, I've been going through a lot of family slides lately. It's the perfect task for a sentimental guy like me. Put it this way—if nostalgia was hot fudge, people would be stopping by to dip their Oreos in me. Ew.
I tend to immerse myself in things like this. At this point, I've combed through hundreds, maybe thousands, of images from the 1950s,'60s and '70s. Occasionally I'll come across a childhood photo of me and try to put myself back in that kid's head. What was important to him at the time (besides not wearing that suit)? Having spent just a handful of years on Earth, what did that boy believe was true? Or not true?
The kid above believed that Santa came in the house when everybody was asleep, which in turn contributed to an already-robust fear of the dark. Holy shit, can you remember how scary it was when the adult in your house flicked off the light and shut the door? Everything instantly disappeared and random noises filled the void. It probably also didn't help that he'd been sent to bed halfway through Kidnapped and Buried Alive: the ABC Tuesday Night Movie of the Week. You know, school night and all.
I remember when this guy refused to believe that his friend's dad weighed over 100 pounds. Only upon returning home for lunch one day to scarf down a deviled ham sandwich was he informed by his mom that adults commonly weigh well into the triple digits. Also that lamp shade.
The dude standing here in his new fall school jacket firmly believed that babies are conceived with little more than a wink and a nod. I mean sure, this is sort of true since winking and nodding are involved at some level. Still, most of us don't know the full story until we're clued in one day at rainy day recess by a kid named Kenny or Billy or Julie Lou.
Finally, this young fella most likely believed that Jesus was a nicely-groomed white man with amazing hair that smelled like Pert, not unlike a Scorpions roadie. Only later when he'd received his own subscription to National Geographic and started reading the articles did he discover that JC had the biological makeup of a modern-day Iraqi Jew.
We embark on our lives' journeys, perpetually sifting through the data and hopefully honing our understanding of the world around us. Along the way, we learn that, although the number 100 is indeed massive, very few full-grown adults weigh less than a hundred pounds. We discover that despite his sick fishing skills, it's highly unlikely that Jesus was Swedish. And somewhere around 2014 comes the revelation that darkness doesn't mean everything disappears; just that the room has transfigured itself into a glorious theater of the smart phone.
But I joke because I fear. At this moment in history, 30 to 40 percent of Americans are skiing down the back slope of a bell-shaped learning curve. Many are people I grew up with, folks raised in an era of moon landings, unquestioned election results and mass vaccinations in the school gym.
The unlearning is well under way. For so many, science now equals tyranny and government is nothing more than the Illuminati's instrument of killing and eating all the White people except Joe Biden, Hillary Clinton and Tom Hanks.
I get it, I suppose. The government doesn't always have the best of intentions; Ronald Reagan and all that. And of course, you're scared, too. Society is changing before your eyes and you're afraid of being "left behind" in some manner. Sure is a hell of a lot more comforting to believe that your candidate's victory was stolen, that your opinions still fall among the overwhelming majority.
But they don't. Not anymore. Storming the Capitol was both stupid and criminal, and you know it. Trump lost, and you know it. Vaccines work.
Let's get back to debating policy, not the facts themselves.
