What the World Thinks Does Matter

I hit the jackpot trifecta the day I was born a white male in America. No single generation of people in history has ever been handed the privilege and opportunities afforded the sixty-three million caucasian American post-war baby boomers born between 1946 and 1960. Raised by parents who still believed that hard work pays off; taught by teachers who still believed that schools are for learning; and protected by a government that believed bigger is always better, we were ready to take on the world.

And take it on, we did. Free from the threat of oppression and encouraged to ride our ambitions as far over the horizons as we could envision, we were turned loose. Ill-prepared for our numbers and ill-equipped to handle the excesses we demanded, the generations of Americans before and after us were left no choice but to sqeeze aside to make room. As we demanded more and bigger, the world responded by giving us too much and too large. Our houses with four bedrooms and two and a half baths became the norm by which housing prices were established and rarified zip codes taxed extra. Our cars with sunroofs, heated leather seats and surround sound became the reason every house needed a second, third and even fourth garage stall.

I'm not saying anything new. I know that. In fact, generation X, Y and Z kids have been hammering us for years about it. They say we destroyed their future. They say we didn't leave room for anybody. They call us the single most selfish generation in history. I suppose we're guilty on counts one, two and three. Maybe they're right. Funny, though. I never thought I was doing anything more than paying my bills, going to church and raising my family.

Now, many people say it's too late. There's no turning back. We're either going to melt or we're going to freeze. Or perhaps we'll just starve to death or dehydrate from lack of clean drinking water. If my generation's excesses really are leading to our imminent downfall, I hope the world takes some little heed to the small bits of value we have added. The PC, mapping the genome, telecommunications and the minivan come to mind - well, maybe the grandfatherly Lee Iococa deserves the blame for that last one. But the point is, we have at least earned the right to pick our poison. Today is January 31st and I'm writing this first entry from my cold sunroom in Minneapolis. There are eighteen inches of snow piled against all sides of our house. I don't know if there really is global warming, I just don't think we can afford to be on the wrong side of the argument. But, if we are given the choice of our demise, I'd prefer to melt.

But this blog won't be about the depletion of America and the excesses of my generation. Or rather, it won't be about how we view ourselves, anyway. Along our way, many of us have learned that there is a whole world out there. Some of us learned by travel and discovery. Some of us learned it from the Internet and books. Too many more of us learned it when our jobs shipped overseas.

So, what does the world think of America? How does a farmer in Thailand deal with the effects of two-party politics in the U.S? What does a street vendor in Bangalor do when a Republican wins a Senate seat in Massachusetts or a Democrat is run out of office because of an extra marital affair? Believe it or not, the world takes notice. Not just government officials and policy wonks in western countries and embassies. I'm talking about the average person on the street. And I'm not just talking about large international policy or catastrophic events, either. Many people don't know that the sorry 'balloon boy' episode that played itself out over the skies of Colorado drew several column-inches in the Delhi Times, with follow up reports during the legal process and sentencing. The sport section of a London daily newspaper recently ran a story about the destruction and replacement of venerable Tiger baseball stadium in Detroit. How many Americans can identify who plays at Old Trafford or Stamford Bridge? Indeed, how many Americans can even name the sport played there?

Yes, people take notice of America. More to the point, people take notice of Americans - everyday Americans like you and me. I don't know why they take notice, but they do. I'm not saying anything new, I know. But I will. This blog will be an opportunity to discuss the way people around the world view us. I know...many Americans don't care. But that's exactly what sixty-three million baby boomers said about past and future generations. We didn't care what they thought of us. We were going it alone and we succeeded on our own. The problem is, when we failed, it was always on the backs of others. So, before we make decisions about what to do next, maybe it's time we ask ourselves how will we go about it. Just as important, let's start asking ourselves how well it will play in Pretoria.

Next posting: What the world thinks of our divisiveness