Saturday morning, walking around south Minneapolis, a neighborhood where, back in my youth, when your elders start neglecting their lawn, you might move them out of the bungalow and plant them here in a one-BR apt. until they can no longer climb stairs and then there’d be a family meeting — shoot them? Or plunk them in the nursing home? — and off to Happy Acres they go, worn out since elliptical machines didn’t exist back then and there were no trainers except animal trainers.
And now it’s a neighborhood of 21-year-olds as you can see from the corner grocery, which is all bags of snacks and soda pop and frozen pizzas. Youth can survive on silage, if necessary. Young women walk their dogs at 8 a.m. and a man sleeps on a bus stop bench, a suitcase beside him. The apartment buildings all post For Rent signs, some offer deals, some have roommates waiting.
I walk around, awestruck at the courage of the young. You come to the city from Aitkin or Brainerd or Cottonwood and either you get a job waiting on table and maybe salt away some dough or you go to school and rack up piles of debt, or maybe you do both and work 15-hour days and all in hopes of making a good life, whatever that might mean in your case.
I worked in a scullery near here when I was 18, the summer before college, working the dishwasher at a hotel, and since I planned to be a writer, I walked around Loring Park on my break, thinking profound thoughts, practicing smoking Pall Malls, exhaling in an artistic manner. I was raised fundamentalist and left home to go to the U in September where I made Jewish friends and saw ballet and smoked in class and listened to long-haired radicals orate on the Mall and wrote incomprehensible poetry and had a big time.
A young woman approached and I wish I could ask her what it’s like to be her in 2021 but she has a large dog on a leash who probably is trained to fend off the curious, so I pass by, averting my eyes, but I wish her well. I wish them all well, even as I worry they’ll trip on the same old pitfalls I did and become social climbers and show-offs or time-wasters and drifters. I also worry they’ll get stuck in a dead-end job with a dope for a boss and be disincentivized to break free.
It was a historic day, Saturday. It was September 11, though maybe the kids in the neighborhood don’t recall it so clearly as we elders do, a day on which the towers fell and the country suddenly was united, conservative and liberal and indifferent, old and young, city and small town and rural, when the city of New York showed heroic kindness and courage among strangers and a day later people gathered with lit candles outside their buildings and sang “America” and “God Bless America” and meant every word. Then, unaccountably, our leaders set out to make the Middle East into an American democracy and instead we became more like Afghanistan, a tribal culture, warlords vying for power, but that chapter is now at an end. Let angry old men fight over the wreckage for another year or two, but eventually the young will prevail.
The young woman walking her dog passed and I wondered what her thoughts about the day might be and I almost asked, but she was wearing a COVID mask and the dog looked at me warily, so I didn’t. When we were, briefly, twenty years ago, a united people, you could feel the spirit in the streets and people spoke easily to each other. The terrorists didn’t terrorize us, they emboldened us to love each other and to worry about the young who will inherit what we’ve badly botched up. Signs and portents abound, if only we will look up from our feet. The young are passionate about the environment and climate change. There are millions of people who cannot imagine modifying their sumptuous lifestyle in the interest of conservation in behalf of future generations and the habitability of the earth — they would rather die than do that and as soon as they do die, the world will take a step forward.
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MRS. SULLIVAN “Function follows form,” said Louis Sullivan one warm Evening in Chicago over beer. His wife said, “Dear, I think you meant it the other way around.” Sullivan took a drink and frowned. “Okay, Form follows function,” he said. A light appeared above his head, A spark of architectural brilliance That soon would dazzle millions. “Write it down,” she said. “Here's a pencil.” And soon Mr. Sullivan was influential And thanks to his wife’s correction Architecture headed in a functional direction. But he often wondered if maybe he had been mistook And if things should be used according to how they look.
Garrison, I connected with several things which you brought up in your article today.
The greatest pleasure and fun in life to me is learning and understanding things, figuring things out. Going off to college was one of the most important things which happened to me. I think that everyone should leave home and go off to college. In a perfect world, everyone would get a Bachelors degree in an art or a science (a real subject). Then they would study to be a lawyer, doctor, plumber, electrician, or whatever. Many people are afraid that they are going to learn too much; or study something that does not produce a pay check. College is not the same as trade school. A crying need in the world and in America is for people who read and think and think critically. I know that most people don't agree but it would be great to have a plumber who reads history or philosophy in his/her spare time. It doesn't hurt to learn or know too much.
The Summer after graduating from high school, I worked in a factory to get money to fund college. I grew up in a very rural area of the South. Two things in particular which really stand
out from going to college were that I had never heard or seen a live performance of a symphony orchestrate or a live performance of "Messiah." It was fascinating to see and hear both. Another thing was the college library. I could always spend a few hours roaming around looking for books and magazine articles on my current topics of interest. I still do the same thing but often do it on Wikipedia or a Google search.
Sooner or later most people will have to be on their own and make decisions for themselves. The sooner we start being on our own; the better. A good place to start is when we leave high school and go off to college.
The girl with the dog on a leash called to mind my habit of speaking to people. When I was growing up and was walking down the street and met someone, I would always speak to them. Say good morning or wish them a nice day. But I have learned to not do that, particularly if I am in the city. Some people recoil in horror if I say good morning and a few act as if I am a sexual pervert.
I don't have time to write about it, but America is becoming like Afghanistan. People say that Afghanistan is a corrupt country with warlords and religious fanatics. But we are headed in that direction with our divisive politics and dysfunctional federal government. We have our military-industrial complex, medical-industrial complex, student loan complex, Agricultural subsidy complex, etc. All of these industries which feed off the federal government and then lobby congress for more.
It is a good idea to be around young people. That would be the downside to being in a nursing home; everyone would probably be my age or older. I am sure they would be nice, dear people but I would not want to spend all of my time with them.
Best wishes and happy life to all.
Succinct and sweet.