These are troubled times
It only dawned on me at dinner tonight. I have reached a troubling point in my life. My memory of leaner times is starting to get fuzzy. It's getting harder to recall a time when I did not have the luxuries that I do now. I can only vaguely recall a time when my only condiment was BBQ sauce. Now I'm free to choose amongst Heinz 57 sauce, BBQ sauce, ketchup, mustard, and of course salsa. I have 4 varieties of salad dressing that go almost untouched. I seem to recall a time when meat was a biweekly extravagance, and now, NOW I buy myself ribs to eat on a whim. I haven't touched Ramen in nearly 10 months. So the Ramen baby can't be mine!

I've reached a comfort level. If not in the lap of luxury, I must be at least near the kneecap. I have the money to buy two mustards, but it's much easier to go to work fighting for just one. So the trouble, you see, is what am I fighting for? Is it to maintain this "rock 'n' roll" lifestyle? The one which sees me aimlessly careening from movie theater to movie theater? The lifestyle which affords me the occasional book or CD not borrowed from the library, but actually purchased? Is that enough to sustain a man? How can two mustards and ownership of books and music drive a man the way survival does?

They can't. That's why I'm going to become a Friend of the AFI Silver Theater. Because if I can't figure out what I'm fighting for, the least I can do is support the cinema and escape to a darkened theater.