Jeff—Saturday
It’s been three weeks since my rotator cuff shoulder surgery,
and I’ve decided to take a shot at typing with more than the index finger of my
left hand. I feel I must take that
risk—painful as it may prove to be—in an effort at breaking a horrid addiction contracted
in the course of my recovery.
No, it’s not to the dreaded oxycodone pain medication. I was
well aware of the risks of that, and avoided it except on the few occasions
when, on a scale of 1 to 10, pain hit 12.
No, I fell victim to an insidious hallucinogen that preys
upon the innocent in their most vulnerable of moments, such as when one tires
of balancing a book or e-reader on one’s belly with one hand.
I’m talking about our singular national narcotic, competitively
produced and distributed nationwide to generate profit and power via the
exploitation of our disparate tribal urges.
Yes, dear reader, my name is Jeffrey and I’m addicted to
Cable TV News.
It started off simply enough, with the teaser of a “breaking
news” headline, followed by commentary from folks with distinct agendas. Whether or not I agreed with what they said did
not matter, for the game was to hook me into the personalities, and bristle or
cheer while they added partisan spin to seemingly objective facts. Soon I was jumping from channel to channel to
catch how networks with polar opposite political views were handling the same
state of facts…or ignoring them.
You’ve become myopic, endorphin-driven, and out of touch
with the real world. You’re dulled by the stories, think that what’s debated is
actually being resolved by the process, and, thus, do nothing but impatiently wait
for the next big headline to break across the screen.
Thankfully, not all have fallen victim to the scourge. There are those who realize that if you wish
to change the real world, you must participate in it, and bust your hump at
making things happen.
Like, for example, the students and families of Marjory
Stoneman Douglas High School, in Parkland, Florida, and the hundreds of
thousands supporting them, in their efforts at spearheading the “March For Our
Lives” on March 24 in Washington, DC.
Then I listened to classmates and families of the victims
speak from their hearts with poise, intensity, and truth. Their words have inspired a movement, if not
a generation. They give me hope for our future, and reason to end my voyeuristic
addiction and return to the parapets…
Happy St. Patrick’s Day.
—Jeff
Posts
