Thankless Days

On a thankless day like today I would like to run away to a mountaintop cabin, raise hogs and chickens, milk my own cow, grow my own veggies, and sit for many hours on a porch overlooking the peaceful valley below.

Mac the Labradoodle would nap quietly at my feet.

The sound of wind blowing through the leaves and the cawing of crows would fill my ears.

I would ride into civilization only for coffee beans, dental floss, art supplies, M&Ms, and regularly scheduled dental visits.

I would forget about changing the world or being involved in any one's life but my own.

On thankless days, I wonder why I have to care about anyone beyond myself. I wonder why I have to shoulder all the stupid problems and tangled messes that everyone else creates for themselves. Why do I have to listen...

and even more...

why do I have to care?

Why is my son training to be an Army officer... to serve a people who live self-consumed lives... who would drive over the grave of his mangled body in their expensive cars drinking their lattes-to-go...and never... even... notice...

much less, care.

"I wonder who will be the next American Idol?" is the deepest pondering of their day.

Serving people is a crappy (oooo...I did use that word), thankless way to live.

I'm turning 50 soon, and the world-changing idealism of youth is no longer burning brightly.

There are days when it is dark...and lonely...and...

thankless.

On these thankless days I wonder why I can't be lonely and thankless on my mountain cabin porch, instead of here in the middle of people making stupid choices, people knocking on my door late at night after a tiring day...

people driving their expensive cars over my grave.

"Is this the part of the movie where we die?"

I guess if you are reading this, and you have never had these thoughts...then you may be the one mindlessly riding and latte-drinking and consuming...

and forgetting to say "thanks" to those who mountain cabin-lessly serve you.