Life During Wartime

    I hosted a dinner a few nights ago for a diverse group of people. I chose two salad dressings - one creamy and the other a vinaigrette. Not knowing which he would prefer, I offered both to one older gentleman. He replied, "It doesn't matter, either one is fine. I grew up during the war." He didn't say it, but seemed to imply that life during wartime had made him grateful for having salad dressing at all, or salad for that matter. The precise flavor, the accenting taste, simply made no difference to him.

   That made me wonder if our generation (and the younger ones, too) would someday remark: "It doesn't matter, either one is fine, we grew up during the wars." For, though it is mostly hard to tell, we are all growing up during wartime. No, it is not waged daily on our home soil, but American men and women are keeping the peace, fighting when they must, and making the ultimate sacrifice in an attempt to bring freedom and equality to fellow humans across the world. 

    What happened to the American psyche that we no longer feel empathy or responsibility for the peacekeepers or humans elsewhere? If it were simply that we are now a nation of pacifists who shun all mention of war, that might explain the lack of connection, but it is plain that is not the case. We now focus our lives on temporal achievements, racking up points, collecting toys, sating our every appetite and whim with nary a thought to sacrifice, loyalty, or connection to the bigger picture.

    While grocery shopping the other day, I noticed that all the new shopping carts now come with a cup holder beside the push bar. Since when have we become infants who must have liquid sustenance at all moments of the day? Can't we make it through a trip to the grocery without sips from our plastic containers of coffee, soda or nutrient-imbued specialty water? How would our society fare if faced with rationing of food, fuel or water? What would people do if we lived alongside landmines, nightly bombings or military raids? Past generations grew victory gardens and learned how to hunker down and be resourceful, but today, we wince at the slightest hint of want or temperance. Have we become weak or too strong to care?

    I guess you could say we are "fortunate" to have lives of stability, plenty and safety, but it makes me wonder whether it is good fortune or whether it is the almighty dollar that keeps us safe and insulated. I wouldn't want to wish upon a single enemy the horrors of war, even though I have not lived it myself, but I would love it if our society could learn from all this that freedom isn't free, and that sometimes sacrifice is the ingredient that brings us closer together.