Life of Luxury

I was laying in the reclined driver's seat of my car in the parking lot at college, reading a chapter from a book on cultural studies that I printed at school from an online student interface and listening to music on my new iPhone. I didn't know if I should feel blessed or guilty.

On the one hand, I had to stop everything and give thanks. After all, I could have been chained to a boulder somewhere, or working in some death camp in Siberia, or being tortured. Those are things I don't want. Instead, I'm at college, surrounded by technology that I take advantage of every day and think almost nothing of it. Realizing that, I started to feel the kind of frustration I have when I see a rock star smash a guitar or when an atheist gets on television and says that religion does more harm than good because it's divisive . . . only I was frustrated with myself.

I was born and spent my early childhood in a time before everyone and their 3 year old sister used iPods, DVDs, cell phones, the Internet, or home computers. Had I forgotten that life went on without our precious digital lifestyle? I remember going to the movies to see new Disney cartoons that were hand drawn. Now I get frustrated if I can't find what I'm looking for on Google Video (it's better than YouTube because it draws from more sources, including YouTube).

Everything about my college life is a luxury. I live with my parents. I work part time as a guitar instructor. I attend one of the better Universities in the country. I don't do manual labor for a living. I spend my time learning and teaching, both of which require a substantial amount of free time, which is a luxury. I am, at least in this way, a product of our culture. That which is a luxury becomes a privilege. That which is a privilege becomes a standard. The standard becomes a necessity, and the necessity becomes a "right." Demanding such a "right" develops the idea that the world owes you something, it's having an attitude of entitlement.

I am not entitled. I don't have to have it now if it will cost me with later with interest. I'll pay now by "sacrificing" a bit for a better future. As I have said before: I want joy on layaway, not happiness on credit. The U.S. economy has faltered because it's time to pay the piper for our credit debt; I am no more or less invincible. Therefore, I give thanks.