The Pursuit of Happiness

I was in Natchez last week with a few old pals to eat fried dill pickles and look at some folk art. Over dinner, I made the mistake of stretching my legs out. Fly Boy began laughing because he saw holes in the soles of my shoes.

“Lord, you’re a cheap bastard,” he said. “We’re gonna let you pick up the check just because it’ll be fun to watch you cry!”

Everyone thought Fly Boy had made a fine joke; therein ensued an endless stream of stories about my closeness with a dollar. When the laughter stopped I explained that I would buy new shoes if and when my up-coming quarterly cancer exam yielded happy results.

“There’s no sense buying new shoes if it’s come back,” I said. “After all, I won’t be doing much walking if it has.”

Dead silence. An aggrieved silence. My matter-of-fact, completely logical plan for future shoes was an insult to The Power of Positive Thinking, a failure to embrace Living in the Moment, and an utter rejection of Prosperity Gospels ad infinitum. Logic, rather than feelings, also deferred reading The Book of Lamentations for another day. No one knew what to say or do.

I had apparently – obviously, I guess – violated an important social contracting rule. If I had adopted the “glass is half empty” view, my pals would’ve commiserated and sponsored a pep rally. Choosing the “glass is half full” option could’ve facilitated testimonies to my courage and assurances that my tomorrows will be merry and many. By choosing the half and half option – the facts of the matter – I had simply made everyone uncomfortable.

That hadn’t been my intention. I certainly hadn’t wanted to make them feel uncomfortable. But facts remain facts, no matter how we dress them up. I’ll need new shoes or I won’t. And a pig is still a pig no matter how much Fox News lipstick you put on it.

At some point, voters have to take off the made in China MAGA hats, no matter how uncomfortable or embarrassing it feels, and admit that they’re condemning us, and especially rural America, to Trump-assisted suicide.