Moving on . . .

In praise of letting go

My son, Josh, told me Eric Clapton won’t perform his “Tears in Heaven” anymore. Fortunately, we have plenty of high quality versions of Clapton singing that timeless paean to loss and guilt, so we are none the poorer. He’s moved on. Authentic grief has a duration; there comes a time for the letting go.
Disbelief and outrage at the loss of people's life savings in the market debacle have given way to a kind of empty-socket dull ache. Kubler-Ross called it acceptance, but I do not think people have actually accepted their losses so much as they have only become inured to them. So many people have lost so much. Now, it’s hard to get even mildly exercised about another story of a fund emptied, another scumbag “financial advisor” absconding with his ill-gotten gains. I'm bone weary of brokerage commercials beating their Lipper averages at us. They must think people are over the horror too. It’s been like watching a blowout bowl game narrated by a commentator with a three metaphor vocabulary. “Market Hit Again”; “Stocks Rebound Briefly Then Fade” ; “Carnage Continues In Financial Sector.” Can we let go of the great 2008 disaster—the grieving for everyone, everywhere’s defenestrated financials? Let’s move on.
How about those bailouts? I’m not even going there. The fatigue is crushing.
Up next, the "Green” tsunami. Everywhere I look declarations of Green-ness wail their declarations that they are not boiling the planet. It’s not us, we’re GREEN! Everything from concrete trucks to plastic grocery sacks claim to be “Green.” A lithe barista wished me a “Green” day. “Have a green day!”
Oy.
Will the immense mounds of refuse the crowds at the inauguration leave behind be “Green?” I have the distinct impression that it will be a long, long time before we can move on from green . . .