The Write Thing

It’s been quiet on this side, and yet it feels like I have been busy all along. Or maybe I have been busy, and it is just that time of year in which everything should be drawing to a close, but it is not, at least not on this side of the globe. The truth is that the world is divided into two hemispheres, and one carries more weight than the other. On my side of the map now, everybody sees winter as a natural occurrence in December. However, it is not logical and it will never be, despite the rulings of nature or political and economic superpowers. The year ends in December. Everything should lead to that conclusion, to that ending, and summer is the logical sidekick to reflection time.

November is perhaps the time to start wrapping up, coming to conclusions, planning strategically for the year ahead, deciding to be a better person. I have the feeling that we only decided to be better persons when we were children and we thought that was possible. Once we grow up, some of us just keep trying, even though we know it may only be wishful thinking. As adults, so many of us will still continue to be children. The more powerful we get, the more childish we can be. Our insecurities may have never left us, but simply changed focus from school life to office politics, and whether we can get that promotion, or our colleague’s seat. However, the hopeful side of human pettiness is that the line is always drawn somewhere. One can only wish that line is drawn closer to one’s true self, closer to our heart.

Once again, my dear non-reader, you find me revisiting the idea of fate, karma and life psychology in general. I wrote yesterday (yes, two days in a row by now seem almost like I could really keep a blog) about life in sunny and crime-ridden Houston, and the almost technical aspects involved in getting a door glass replaced and a decent internet connection activated in the fourth largest city in the US.

Of course I have not expanded on the Kafkaesque developments that today brought me almost to the brink of despair (exasperation by now is a given for me in this country), and I will not unless you have serious insomnia issues, in which case you can send me an email and I will gladly walk you through the process of not finding things here even when everybody tells you they have them – oh, well, there I go again trying to explain…I apologize.

The fact that I have not expanded on my tribulations does not mean they are not potentially clear to you, or at least imaginable, by now. So let me focus on the feelings instead, the depth of the impotence, the rage, the worn-out patience, the repetition and, eventually, oblivion…I know in the not-so-faraway future I will remember the gist of everything that is going on around me now, but I will forget the reason. Just because that is what life is all about, and sooner or later we all forget.

Prometheus

THERE ARE four legends concerning Prometheus:

According to the first he was clamped to a rock in the Caucasus for betraying the secrets of the gods to men, and the gods sent eagles to feed on his liver, which was perpetually renewed.

According to the second Prometheus, goaded by the pain of the tearing beaks, pressed himself deeper and deeper into the rock until he became one with it.

According to the third his treachery was forgotten in the course of thousands of years, forgotten by the gods, the eagles, forgotten by himself.

According to the fourth everyone grew weary of the meaningless affair. The gods grew weary, the eagles grew weary, the wound closed wearily.

There remained the inexplicable mass of rock. The legend tried to explain the inexplicable. As it came out of a substratum of truth it had in turn to end in the inexplicable.

I think that the so-called Influenza A (H1N1) should be a good vehicle for revising the age groups to which we connect. I have long heard the chant claiming that nobody cares about the elderly and they do not deserve such poor treatment, having done all they have for us, younger folks.

Well, my dear readers, let me break the news. You now have a golden opportunity to change the course of ungratefulness toward senior citizens. How? Follow me as I go through my reasoning.

There is not a lot of information on the H1N1 virus that is causing uncertainty and wreaking havoc with Argentine health authorities (well, it does not take much to wreak havoc with them anyway, but a virus is always a good excuse). However, a little bit of online research will reassure you about the most common prevention measures. These include boring stuff such as washing your hands a hundred times a day, staying away from potentially sick people, keeping your house clean, etc. Now, if you start reading about the way the disease is developing, you will learn that the tranche of the population above 65 years old or so have shown considerable resistance to the virus. Here is where the prevention guidelines could be expanded.

We live in a society that goes all soft on children and gives a little less than a damn about the elderly, even if some look good in pension funds commercials. The H1N1 pandemic now calls this preference into question. What are you thinking of staying anywhere near noisy infants with snots running down their noses and coughing on you every thirty seconds? No matter how charming those short versions of an adult may seem to you, my friend, you have to stay away from them. I know the temptation to play with the devilish creatures will be strong, but consider what sort of hands will soon be touching yours as you help them across the street, how dirty and full of viruses and bacteria they will be. You are in danger, and you have to face the fact.

Instead, reconsider your views on older people. I know some may bore you by telling you the same story over and over again, or even by speaking about recipes for hours on end. Their life seems uneventful to you? Dispel those thoughts…think how safe they are to be around. Who knows? There may be even some way of developing immunity by proximity…science evolves by the hour. Moreover, how many times have you been told you should slow down and calm your stress? Now you can do it by crossing the street in fifteen minutes instead of two, discussing the good old times as if they were still around, and a myriad other things that flailing memories allow. Think again, the elderly are not contagious.

My dear reader, you can do it. There is still time before H1N1 condemns you to a probable death in Argentina and a very difficult flu almost elsewhere. Go find an elderly person and make a new friend. You will not regret it.