Bread, Salad and Circuses

It's 50 degrees out and I can hear the wind in the trees through the open window. I sit here with hot pepperoni bread fresh out of the oven and a salad on the side. My son walks out in the kitchen, "Poverty supper. Bread and salad." he grabs half a loaf and a salad and goes back to his computer. Poverty? This is a meal fit for kings. At least kings with good taste.

Polly, the youngest tabby, waits hopefully for spilled pepperoni--or bread--she loves both. Since when does it take an 8 course meal to fill our stomachs? Most of the world subsists on rice and gruel or whatever is at hand. The average American would not survive on the diet most of the world lives on.

Though, if our politicians keep ignoring things, we may end up a third world country yet. Somehow, I keep comparing today's economy with that of the 20's. Bush and Paulson declaring that the economy is "fundamentally sound" sounds too much like Hoover's "prosperity is just around the corner." The economy may be fundamentally sound for the 1% at the top, but for too many it is faltering. So, what to do? Like the old song, "No more money in the bank. What to do about it, let's put out the lights and go to sleep."

Things may be bad in this country and true the economy is terrible slanted but it's no time to run for the hills. Yet. People in our "advanced society" have forgotten how to endure the inevitable bad times. Long ago, people observed how animals in the wild endured storms and fires and droughts. Have you ever noticed how the deer disappear when a blizzard is about to pounce? You will find them hunkered down in deep brush, waiting the storm out. And that may be our only option for the storm that is beginning to break all around us.

Some may prefer to run, heading for Belize or Morocco, thinking that simpler places will be easier--even without cable and McDonald's. But for me, running is not an option. I'm no hero.
I'm just a scaredy cat old lady who has been getting increasingly nervous about this country since the Bushies have taken over. But my family is here in this great big misbegotten country. Add to that, I'd have to figure out how to transport a herd of cats across long miles and difficult borders.

So, I'm trying to figure out how best to hunker down all the while knowing that in truth there is nowhere to run to. The only thing to do is continue screaming at the politicians in hopes that somebody somewhere wakes up and barring that, find deep brush.