We Gotta’ Be Kind
I often wonder about life down the line.
What will America look like in 2068?
Just 50 years away. A short time really. I recall some things from 1968. I really do!
I was a huge Wilt Chamberlain fan back then. Just a little while later I remember crying cause the Knicks beat the Lakers in Game 7.
I also recall Mom making us watch the moon landing. I didn’t want to.
“This is important!”
In 2068, I’m scheduled to be 104 years old.
Probably won’t get there, and if I do, I won’t be walking. The hips, feet and legs are about cooked now.
But it’s not about me (although I’ll be sad to go).
It’s about what we have now.
Will it still be viable?
My kids should ring in the year 2068. Their kids definitely should.
Well, if you want to talk slippery slopes, we’re on one now.
Will America survive?
Somehow, we gotta’ be kind.
I was stuffed in the backseat, leaning in to make sure I was between Mom and Dad as we listened to Nixon resign.
“We gonna’ be all right?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Dad said. He insinuated that we were going to have to change some things or we’d be in trouble.
I guess we did, but we were fighting back then too, and we had already laid the groundwork for the division to come.
I saw a guy the other day.
He’s a guy I like, but he’s also a man who’s opinions on Trump, guns, gays, immigrants, blacks, and especially political parties are 180 degrees from where I stand.
We have debated all on social media.
Our opinions of one another have suffered.
But a funny thing happened when I saw him in person.
We had some laughs.
We spoke of our children, our jobs, our failing bodies, and food.
We shook hands upon meeting and as we departed. We did not say a single thing to each other about what is supposedly dividing us as Americans.
And we agreed on one thing.
“We’ve lost kindness,” I said. “We just don’t treat one another as God might’ve wanted.”
He knew what I meant.
Will America be America in 2068?
“We gonna’ be all right?” As I asked my Dad.
I’ll go with his answer:
“I don’t know.”
What will America look like in 2068?
Just 50 years away. A short time really. I recall some things from 1968. I really do!
I was a huge Wilt Chamberlain fan back then. Just a little while later I remember crying cause the Knicks beat the Lakers in Game 7.
I also recall Mom making us watch the moon landing. I didn’t want to.
“This is important!”
In 2068, I’m scheduled to be 104 years old.
Probably won’t get there, and if I do, I won’t be walking. The hips, feet and legs are about cooked now.
But it’s not about me (although I’ll be sad to go).
It’s about what we have now.
Will it still be viable?
My kids should ring in the year 2068. Their kids definitely should.
Well, if you want to talk slippery slopes, we’re on one now.
Will America survive?
Somehow, we gotta’ be kind.
I was stuffed in the backseat, leaning in to make sure I was between Mom and Dad as we listened to Nixon resign.
“We gonna’ be all right?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Dad said. He insinuated that we were going to have to change some things or we’d be in trouble.
I guess we did, but we were fighting back then too, and we had already laid the groundwork for the division to come.
I saw a guy the other day.
He’s a guy I like, but he’s also a man who’s opinions on Trump, guns, gays, immigrants, blacks, and especially political parties are 180 degrees from where I stand.
We have debated all on social media.
Our opinions of one another have suffered.
But a funny thing happened when I saw him in person.
We had some laughs.
We spoke of our children, our jobs, our failing bodies, and food.
We shook hands upon meeting and as we departed. We did not say a single thing to each other about what is supposedly dividing us as Americans.
And we agreed on one thing.
“We’ve lost kindness,” I said. “We just don’t treat one another as God might’ve wanted.”
He knew what I meant.
Will America be America in 2068?
“We gonna’ be all right?” As I asked my Dad.
I’ll go with his answer:
“I don’t know.”
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