I just read the Green New Deal. It has been characterized by some politicians as “the toughest opening bid in history.” Yet, political cartoons exist in which it is criticized as unrealistic and something that would drain the United States monetarily.
Just before I turned 30, I got into a jet skiing accident going full throttle, and it shook me up. I would soon need seven stitches on my chin and turn into a walking bruise. A guy that my friend and I were jet skiing with gave me a very strong drink to settle me down. Unfortunately, it did anything but that because I was already in a bad place emotionally – horrible break up with a dysfunctional man who had betrayed my trust in myriad ways, unemployed as a consequence of moving home to my mother’s house, turning 30 while living with my mother, and more. On the way and once home, I cried hysterically and repeatedly screamed, “I don’t belong in this world!” I thought it too cruel.
Sometimes, like right now, I still feel this way.
Call me an idealist (because I am), but I don’t see the Justice Democrat’s Green New Deal as anything but what the United States should not only want to do, but as something that as a world leader, we should have begun implementing quite some time ago.
What has happened to us as a people? As a country?
An argument could be made that dating back to our founding fathers, who were protective of landowners and wanted to keep the non-landowners down, we have been greedy bastards. However, that greed has escalated.
I remember going to New Zealand when I was in my thirties and staying on a sheep farm for a few days. The house was functional. It was not up to date fashion-wise, and the pots and pans and dishes did not match. It made me think about seasonal throw pillows and holiday-related hand towels and dish towels, and costumes for pets, and a gazillion other unnecessary material objects that U.S. citizens possess while people in other areas of the world are dying of starvation and many of our own residents, including children, experience “food insecurity” (a euphemism for “are going hungry on a regular basis”).
While portion sizes today are ridiculous in general, I once went to a fancy restaurant in Chicago, and my family of three returned to our hotel room with something like 12 “to go” boxes. And when desserts passed our table, each plate contained seemingly one-quarter of a three-layer cake. It was insane! I will never eat there again.
Maybe it is because I grew up with Great Depression-era parents. I’ve told this story before, but it bears repeating. My mom said that when she was a girl in rural Minnesota, even if a family was low on milk, if a baby on a farm nearby had no milk, the family that was low gave the rest of their milk to the baby in need. It’s called being decent human beings.
When there is undeniable evidence that the United States disproportionately contributes to a problem that affects the global community at such a magnitude that fatalities continue and the doom of future generations is a likely outcome, then who are we to call ourselves a “world leader” if we use money as an excuse not to do everydamnedthing in our power as expediently as possible to not only correct our behavior but also set an example for other countries? In other words, be decent human beings.