Why it’s better to live a real life
I have a cartoon me and a real me.
Cartoon me has no history, no past. He never went to school, never had friends, was never married, and had no children. He smiles on cue and never loses sleep over stress or pressure. Sometimes I wish I could live like cartoon me—resistant to pain and difficulties.
On the other hand, real me has had a good share of challenges, like anyone else. Things like burying my dad at a young age, competing in the job market, fighting to secure an executive position with a well-respected company, and raising five children, among other challenges.
Real me has become aware through experience that the first half of life certainly includes challenges but is more about accomplishing things and getting life in order. The latter part of life requires one to manage and deal with things that were left behind from the first half. Not just one’s personal things but things left from people like elders who didn’t plan well for their years as seniors, kids who went to college or learned a trade but took a while to find their footing, unforeseen financial challenges as a result of job changes, family illnesses, and unexpected disasters.
Had cartoon me experienced the things that real me did, I don’t think the image would be so flawless. I mean that in two ways. Sure, the worry lines would have increased, but the laugh lines would have, too. The bags under the cartoon eyes would be more defined from nights sitting up with asthmatic children, daughters late from curfews, and other worrisome moments spent clutching my wife’s hand, grateful to have someone to weather the hardest days with. However, the growth my heart experienced by learning how blessed I was and how much capacity my heart could hold only makes my cartoon face glow even more.
Soft As The Pillsbury Doughboy
I now realize the pandemic changed the heart of this country, much like a flawless, clean dinner plate that’s been dropped and cracked. Sure, it can be glued and repaired, but it will never be like it was. The country has been dealt a “new normal” (man, how I hate that term) but seems to be handling it like a gift we received for Christmas but never really asked for. America seems to be sending a message to its citizens that Uncle Sam will always break the fall, and as a result, we’re getting awfully soft.
Do you remember the bullies in school who made life miserable for many students? Here’s the irony: many of those insults forced us to take a good look at ourselves and make some changes. For example, there were whispers and snickers when my asthma prevented me from participating in elementary school gym classes. In middle school I asked my doctor to put me on a walking/jogging program to make me be like everyone else, and at the end of ninth grade I lettered in cross-country. I didn’t ask my mom to protest to the school board in order to make the kids stop laughing; I made them stop laughing by stepping up. I don’t condone bullying (my children were often victims), but I do think there are lessons in standing up for oneself as a result of emotional moments. Conflict is part of life, and learning to endure builds character.
Today, there are jobs for hire posted in practically every restaurant and store because most places are grossly understaffed. Many eligible workers are still living in their parents’ homes and see no reason to take an hourly job to put money in their pockets.
Schools and universities are thriving due to remote classes but are experiencing empty classrooms because no one wants to get dressed and go to school. As a result, the social aspect of life is dying a slow death. Young people’s “friends” are all online acquaintances who simply exchange videos of other people slipping on ice or cats falling off couches.
Recognition for on-the-job performance is also difficult because when so many people are working from home, little day-to-day contact is experienced. I hired quite a few interns in my time by watching how well they “hustled” and went beyond what was expected.
Human Interaction Needed
Last week, my wife and I got together with our five children and their mates, 16 grandchildren, and two grandmothers. My toast before dinner was a bit emotional, and when I finished, the whole gang applauded. It’s been a while since I received that type of response. It felt wonderful and could not have happened through a mere Zoom session.
Sharing emotions and thoughts through human interaction is necessary. Bonding, embracing, and dealing with other human beings are what we’re supposed to do. Cartoon Ron is a fun image I toss around when I send an email or write the grandchildren. It will not—nor should it ever—replace Real Ron. It’s nice to imagine days with no problems, but I’ll take the bad that comes with the good. That’s what keeps it real.
