Virginia Walters (Courtesy photo)

Virginia Walters (Courtesy photo)

Life in the Pedestrian Lane: A Little cheese with the whine?

No matter which side of the political fence we stand on, as a generation we are intolerant of pity parties

Thanks for indulging me last month and reading the rerun. I tried to select one that fit the date. But now Thanksgiving (and voting) are over. We’re on the countdown to Christmas and at the end of a very agonizing but intriguing year, politically, no matter where you sat. However, it appears we can’t let it go.

I hear dire predictions for the future from people who have not even held a job yet, or raised a family, or faced any reality of life but read a script for a TV news cast. It seems a certain segment of the population forgets that in every contest there is a winner and a loser. If you are not the winner you set back, regroup and gear up for the next contest. Works for football and hockey but apparently is unheard of in today’s politics. We seem to be destined to have to listen to constant whining about what the next four terrible years will bring after just coming off one of the more bizarre presidencies in our history. Having spent the past four years trying to balance the arguments from each side and determine a middle ground for myself, I’ll tell you, I’d give anything for a Harry Truman, or Ronald Reagan.

If all the stars align, this column will be published on Dec. 6. I think of my parents and grandparents waking up on the morning of Dec. 7, 83 years ago, and learning that the world as they knew it was forever changed. Their country had been attacked; American sailors killed defending a group of islands most had only heard of as a faraway territory in the middle of the Pacific Ocean where our military went to play on their days off. No one had any idea what the next years would bring except it would not be the life they knew.

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They’d just come off Thanksgiving. FDR had, earlier that year, proclaimed that the fourth Thursday of November would be celebrated as Thanksgiving (changed from the last Thursday as proclaimed by Abraham Lincoln), and everyone was gearing up for Christmas, as are we. The Depression years were behind them and the economy was looking up, if a little slowly and now this. On Dec. 8, FDR announced that the United States had declared war on Japan.

That day, and those after, you can bet they weren’t debating whether boys should be allowed into girls’ bathrooms, or pouting because someone called them “Ma’am” instead of “Miss,” or throwing a tantrum because City Hall had “Merry Christmas” on the entrance door. They were hoping they’d get to celebrate Christmas before their sons, husbands, brothers, were called to war. The Farmers were wondering how they’d get the spring work done if “the boy” were all in the military, and mothers were looking at their sons and praying “it” would be over before they needed him.

I know there are a couple of people reading this who were babies or toddlers on that day in 1941. We started school a few years later in a world much different from the one we were born into, but we still learned to read, to add and subtract and to write cursive. We also learned about displaced persons, war brides and flags with gold stars. No one rioted in the streets because Japan was “humiliated” (their word), or tore down a statue because Truman deployed the deadliest weapon ever.

No matter which side of the political fence we stand on, as a generation we are intolerant of pity parties. That’s probably why we are painted as grouchy old fogies. Our parents’ mantra was “Stop that whining or I’ll give you something to whine about” and we learned that lesson well. If our side didn’t win, then it was time to figure out why and do better next time. If it did, it was time to get to work and prove we could carry the ball. So cut us a little slack, please, if we seem impatient with the whining about the next four years. We’ve seen this movie several times with remakes and sequels. It ends the same every time with a small twist to accommodate the characters.

Whew! Now I can get on with Christmas. I’ve held my tongue for a month and was just about to explode listening to all the diatribe since Nov. 6.

So enjoy the Christmas Bazaars, visits with Santa, and Christmas story productions. Watch a couple Hallmark movies and generally enjoy the season. This Old Fogy is going to. It will be a few days into the New Year when next we meet, so Merry Christmas, and any other holiday you celebrate this time of year, and Happy New Year!

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