(C) Daily Kos This story was originally published by Daily Kos and is unaltered. . . . . . . . . . . Have I Just Become an Old Fart, or Is the World Really Going to Hell in a Hand Basket? [1] ['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.'] Date: 2023-06-07 I’ll admit, I am of a certain age (and fabulous!). But I can’t make it through my four-mile commute in Atlanta, GA coming or going without shaking my head, or my fist, at some fool driving like a maniac on a busy four- to six-lane public street. It’s like they think they are driving a Formula racer in a video game, or hoping to be cast in the next “Fast and Furious.” It only gets exponentially worse on major Atlanta Metro highways like 400 or I-285 or I-75. And you will see the horrific accidents caused by those thoughtless drivers speeding and swerving around like fools. So tragic. But, of course, that traffic rant only focuses on one symptom of what seems to be a growing trend: people just don’t seem to care anymore. My spouse had to go to a medical office to give blood for some routine tests the other day. Upon arrival, the nurse barely grunted at him. She finally said “Four!” Meaning, please sit there in chair 4. She didn’t say a word otherwise to him, but she kept mumbling something. He couldn’t understand what she was saying to him. And his poor arm was more roughly treated than usual. The nurse kept mumbling, then blurted, “I’m so sick and tired of this!” What!? What had he done? It was only then that he realized she’d been having a phone conversation, wearing earbuds, that whole time. Once his blood was drawn, she just turned and left. After a few seconds he figured he could go. Now, I have no idea what that poor nurse was dealing with personally, but don’t you think in a medical office the folks might at least look at a patient and say something? You can multiply this example times infinity, because everywhere you turn—your lunch server, your office coworker, your airplane seat mate—it seems people just don’t care. Or maybe it’s because we are all just exhausted. After all, we’re still recuperating—mentally, physically, spiritually—from the pandemic, and from the idiocy of MAGA and TFG, and from the increasing climate ills, and from all the other problems we’re dealing with. (By the way the thought of entering another presidential election season is giving me some serious PTSD.) We are just exhausted by it all. In my work, I set up media interviews with accomplished people—wonderful, gifted people who are used to working hard and doing good work. But over the past three months, four regulars have told me at the last minute that they just can’t do it. They can’t get their thoughts together. They are overcommitted, overwhelmed, oversaturated. And so we’ve had to scramble to replace them. This is just weird. I feel it too. I’m exhausted, frightened, and growing a bit hopeless. And so I can be mighty cranky. And that attitude only feeds on itself and grows worse. But then... some bright spots happen that offer a little hope. A kind word. A genuine smile. Some good news for a change. Someone who actually asks, “how are you?”—and means it. Here’s one example from the New York Times the other day, a piece by Sarah Sweeney in Metropolitan Diary: I work in the voice-over industry, which shifted entirely to recording from home during the pandemic. I already had the quintessential New York City home studio…. So I was prepared in 2020 when I landed a series of national television commercials.... It was a big deal. I savored the news for a moment before the sound of Con Edison working outside reminded me that the gas lines were being replaced. My studio may be pin-drop quiet, but nothing defies the mighty jackhammer. I whisked myself down to the street in search of a guy with a clipboard. “Wondering your Monday schedule from 1-2 p.m.?” I shouted when I found him. “I’m a voice-over actor and I booked a commercial and… ” “Monday, huh?” he shouted back, scanning the clipboard. “We have work planned that’s going to be pretty loud.” My heart sank. “But these are crazy times,” he said. “Let me see what I can do.” When Monday morning arrived, Con Ed was loud at work. At the stroke of 1, though, the street fell totally silent. It stayed that way for an hour. Even the great Con Ed can be nice, it seems. Even in New York City! My city, Atlanta, once called itself “The City Too Busy to Hate.” I don’t know if that was ever true, but I think it might be possible. If we try. Even if I’m too busy, too exhausted, without one more ounce of care, maybe I could still squeeze out some love, share a little kindness. Maybe I could take a breath and realize that all of us are struggling these days to make sense of things, to get through the day, to find some glimpse of hope. And then maybe I could do something positive, productive, helpful, friendly. Even for that mumbling nurse. Hey, maybe you kids can play on my lawn after all. Just watch the flower bed. …… Follow me on Twitter @AdamWelles [END] --- [1] Url: https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2023/6/7/2173699/-Have-I-Just-Become-an-Old-Fart-or-Is-the-World-Really-Going-to-Hell-in-a-Hand-Basket Published and (C) by Daily Kos Content appears here under this condition or license: Site content may be used for any purpose without permission unless otherwise specified. via Magical.Fish Gopher News Feeds: gopher://magical.fish/1/feeds/news/dailykos/