All this talk about the pending "fiscal cliff" got me thinking about the value of pain in our daily lives. We don't normally think of pain as a good thing, but it does play an important role in keeping us from repeating dangerous behaviors. Maybe it's time to accept, as a nation, that greed for more and more must be replaced with thanksgiving for less. Those on this giddy ride of growing prosperity these latest decades must now attend to the reality of our slippery slope and the sled we ride on.
I remember a cold November morning, soon after my 7th birthday, when I learned an important lesson about pain. I peered out the window, under my bandaged forehead, into the sunshine. There were my father and my siblings skating on ice over snow-covered fields, with the ice so strong and smooth they could sail forever. It was all I could do, nursing my headache and fever, to pretend I enjoyed watching while suffering the double agony of knowing my pain was avoidable.
My lesson started the day before when my brothers and I decided to experience the thrilling sensation of sledding on ice. That morning started windy, drizzly and soggy as we walked to school, not bothering to pull our sled along through the clinging slush. During the day the temperature dropped and the rain added over an inch of ice to the already hardening snow. As we were slipping and sliding all over the edges of the road on the way home, we spotted the neighbor girl's sled leaning against their garage door. All we could think about was how fun it would be to ride that sled down that hill. Imagine the speeds we could reach! It would put all other sledding adventures to shame. We asked to borrow the sled to try out the slope of her front lawn. She said we could, but cautioned us that her sled wouldn't turn. This is when we should have stopped, but the prospect of that thrilling ride blinded us from reality.
My brother went down the hill first, all the way to the road and over into the field beyond. Amazed, I was anxious to try it too. But he said no. He showed me how only one of the two steering rivets were intact. However, I was certain that since the steering handle was in place that sled was steerable. Besides, with all my sledding experience, I was sure I could handle any exception. I proceeded to the takeoff point. "I'm telling you, don't ride that sled," said my brother as my hands grasped the rim on one side and the handle on the other. I flopped prone on that sled, aiming it away from the concrete culvert at the bottom of the hill. I barely remember catching some grass that made a little curve to my trajectory back directly at the culvert. That's the last I remember.
My brother said I tried to steer, gave up, released my steering grip and desperately pushed myself away from the sled. But my efforts caused the sled to shoot off harmlessly to the side, and leaving me heading directly into the culvert at far too fast a speed to bounce off it with my hands.
Next thing I remember was my brother dragging me home, barely able to walk, and the shock of opening my eyes to a totally formless red world with no ability to see. Blood had been pouring down into both my eyes, soaking me and freezing on the front of my jacket. I shrieked and coughed out the blood in my nose and mouth as my brother struggled to walk me the quarter mile home.
It was one of the few times I was taken to see a doctor in my childhood. He put in four steel clamps to draw the flesh together for healing. He warned my parent to watch my eyes to see if they focused together, and my balance for walking, and sent me home. I had already been sick to my stomach, and a fever completed my misery for the day. It was the next day that I was watching mournfully, deprived of skating on that cool flat ice. But even more, I was contemplating what I had lost because I didn't pay attention to the exact stuff of rivets, wood, and spring steel sled runners.
American families have been riding this economic sled for some time. We believed that there were fiscal policies and practices in place that allowed our leaders to guide us safely away from the culvert. Now our families are getting an economic pain message. Republicans tell us our sled will be sound if we keep taxes low for the wealthiest. Then they will create more jobs. Alternatively, Democrats claim to protect entitlements, and that our economy will be restored to health when consumers have more money to spend. Meanwhile, one rivet is missing and cranking the steering handle left or right doesn't make a bit of difference in the trajectory. Whether a culvert or a cliff looms, our economy is driven by painful mistakes of the past decades, not just the last two administrations.
As difficult as the reality is to face, I'm thankful we as a nation are waking up to our true situation, often in spite of our politicians and media. This is the first step in being able to discuss actionable alternatives for fiscal decisions and course corrections. Let's hope we can pull together to guide ourselves away from the edge of this cliff.
Some sources:
http://www.nomiprins.com/ Nomi Prins was just recently a top executive at Goldman Sachs and longer ago at Bair Stearns. She's now an independent contributor on insider trading and various missteps by government and the financial sector leading to our current difficulties promoted as a "cliff." I think she's very reliable and honest.
This is her recent column on obamacare, and insightful assessment beyond most pundits.
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/10/27/spending-more-doesnt-make-us-healthier/
NYT has quite a lot of info in its blogs that's reliable, this is one.
Paul Krugman, also at NYT, is good. So are opinion writers in the London Guardian, the Israeli news paper Haaretz, Al Jazeera, and American non-commercial media sources such as Truthout.com, Alternet, Democracy Now, etc.
David Graber
Hardin, MT 59034
graberdb@gmail.com
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