Amtrak: One Symptom of the Buckling American System

Today I took a 6 p.m. Acela express train to Boston. Two hours later I was back in Penn Station because the local that exited before us broke down. This would’ve been a simple procedure had the rescue train not caught on fire on the way to get the broken down train just outside of Stamford. Instead of getting mad, I got a drink and some snacks because what I’ve realized is that the people that support the system did not create it and there’s no justice in aggravation. The system has been broken for quite some time, but we’re just too scared to try and start over. The irony of the situation is that had Amtrak done more to keep up its equipment, it wouldn’t have experienced this horrible night. The night likely led to tons of money wasted via to a loss in customers, refunds, likely overtime for some workers and another crew to replace others workers, probably in a Union, whose shift expired halfway through the trip to Boston.

Our instinct as Americans is to protect the rights to the global throne, the keys to the free world. We think that without the dreams of becoming multi-millionaires, famous nothings, rich empty hedgies or contradictory politicians, we will become a boring poor people. It’s as if the nation not only misunderstands the benefits of social services and non-material perks, but fears so much the simple life that they are willing to protect the oligopoly and lobbyist run government that dumbs down every worthy bill that could impede the bankers’ ability to profit from every business, good, bad and in between.

If I’m going to be transparent, I should reveal that I do have investments in gold ETFs, probably oil companies, and likely a few other multinationals. I suppose I justify these investments by telling myself that if America values war over healthcare and education, I might as well hedge for my future and that of my unborn children. It’s weak, I know, but I’m sure you know what a reporter gets paid if they don’t work for the Murdochracy (Progressive.org). Still some may say that I’m luckier than most, and because of this, can preach about the “injustices of the world.” I’ve been lucky, starting with having been born in America and continuing on throughout my childhood, when I was supported by great parents that remain married and grandparents that treated me, to among other things, private schools, braces and an education at a private college. That said, there are many other routes I could’ve chosen and more comforts I could’ve had if I’d asked, but I’ve tried to go it alone, on a track I think is somewhat moral. That said, I try not to judge others for opting for a life that is to them, well, comfortable. All I ask is that people question authority, understand the power of marketing and advertising, and ask themselves what is truly important. For if we open our eyes, we might realize we are standing up for the wrong things.

As we endure an ongoing recession, praying for a long recovery over the dreaded double dip, people increasingly begin to lose their marbles. Reading the tabloids and walking the streets of the East Village, the number of grifters and loonies far surpasses the usual influx of runaways and junkies, white teenage couples with muts sitting by restaurants with dirty empty paper cups. There’s an unusual number of lost souls that traded a simple life for a momentary drug-induced high and mentally imbalanced souls that slipped through the cracks, in this oil- and dollar-driven nation.

For these and many other reasons, the government jumped head first into a taxpayer sponsored bailout. The taxpayer that fears socialism that would support their health and wellbeing instead traded for the unlikely promise of millions and yet we end up spending those dollars not on healthcare and education sans loans, but on criminals going to jail and bankers and oil-minded auto companies that will inevitably at best return taxpayer dollars while the big boys turn millions of profits years later.

The soundtrack of these times is an unlikely blend of misunderstood rap, angry metal and melancholy alternative ballads. Somewhere between Nas, the metal kings and Coldplay, we linger, a nation of spent, a collective massive burnout, too tired to keep up the pace of unfulfilling jobs but thankful for the chance to continue to see that direct deposit paycheck happen twice a month. For the best case scenario of losing a job is moving in the parents, and the worst, often for those without a close relative or friend, or with too much pride, is to stick it out. But the streets of many cities are too much to handle and inevitably, the lunatic in all of us emerges. And then it inspires a television show, Ripped From the Headlines…

And so what are we to do? One of the most popular New York Times articles of the week suggests downgrading. There is a kind of pride that comes in realizing that you can live off a fraction of the earnings your friends and relatives bring home. That you can spend less, save more and live in smaller spaces and still maintain a sense of contentment. That maybe you are a bit less trapped then they are. That for you, happiness may be achieved with good company, cheap beer, a short glass of vodka, a full bowl of grub sans sangre, an HBO show chock full of misanthropes, the occasional classic free film in the park and the candor of a child wise beyond her years.

Because the world, like the markets, is cyclical. Inevitably, if we approach life in the same way over and over again, the same issues will arise. Our consumption patterns will mirror a hyperactive child unmedicated, a balance sheet unattended, an ozone hole ignored. But if we continue to save more than ever before, we may have a shot. If we evaluate the wants versus needs, maybe the next generations have a chance.

When you think about your future, remind yourself that science has given us a precious gift: time. Knowing that most of us will live until at least 80, if not 90, we know we have time to start over many times in our lives. So fuck the concerns, the pride, the expectations and jump in head first. Predictability is boring and overrated. A resume can not be compared to life experience, which can only be gained by taking risks. For as leaders and role models for the next generation, perhaps we might venture that what the children need is not a Bugaboo or baby Burberry, but hope that the future, truly is, Wide Open. Success is a term for each person to define without judgment.

Click here for the New York Times article But Will It Make You Happy?

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