Our complaints

I wrote the following on Saturday. The weekend is often the time we pause and remember what we have, if we ever do at all.

Right now, I am in a comfortable home. The heat is on because it is 2º outside, with a negative wind chill. In a little while, I’ll hop in my truck that will, by comparison to previous transportation methods, effectively teleport me to breakfast with my dad.

I’ll be with him this morning because my wife will be at a baby shower receiving helpful tools and gadgets that make having a newborn far easier than it was just 50 or 100 years ago. When our baby is born, my wife will be as comfortable as any woman has ever been while giving birth, thanks to the miracle of modern medicine.

What we complain about says a lot about the reality of our lives. In the United States today, we complain about a lot of things. I bet we’d blush at our nonsense if we had to explain our frustrations to the average Syrian, Somalian or Afghani.

In these nations, survival is quite literally at stake for the masses. Our petty, and often manufactured, “problems” pale in comparison. I’m guilty of this, too. Let’s be better.