Melancholy

I guess I may be starting a midlife crisis, that stark review of one's life and the future that it must logically conclude, and I see myself without a marketable skill when all of our computer programming is increasingly being done overseas. We continue to make trade fair, which is another way of saying that our way of life is slowly degrading. At one point in California, I was making ridiculous money, and while now I make a generous living that affords my wife to stay at home to raise our kids, our prospects are looking dim; my nose is skimming surface as the price of living rises at an alarming rate, and here I am wearing cement boots.

We've reached the end of an era, the halcyon days of cheap gas; the air in the lungs of our economy. If we don't find another way to breath, we are going to panic, kick, scream and gasp for air. The world hates us and turns it's collective head as China makes overt moves to control the world's oil supply, even going so far as to bid for one of our oil companies, and warning, warning our government to keep it's nose out of it's business. America, and the world, has ignored for too long the radical Islamic threat, and now our children are fighting even harder against an emboldened enemy that watches our fat and naive society argue amongst ourselves like foolish children. We are like Hobbits living in the Shire, protected by a military of Colonel Jessups, that would prefer a simple thank you.

Yet everyday I go to work to pay for what is looking like an endangered lifestyle, and hoping that I'm not rearranging furniture on a ship that is going down. I wonder if we have already scraped the iceberg, and the rest is just posturing. I wonder if even the government understands the threat we are up against, and I have to conclude they don't if they continue to let illegals to flood our borders.

Thanks for dropping by today. Tomorrow I'll be in a better mood.