by William Lady
*another prime member of our Mule family

Modern life has been grating on me in ways that are hard to explain, something like listening to the odd sounds of a speeded-up music track. It could well be that I am slowing down after the hustle and bustle of younger years. But, sometimes, I wonder if my sense of bother is an accurate perception of a world that is moving too fast for our own good.

People stride furiously through the day, agendas in hand, sending text messages: “Honey, I’ll see you at 2:33 but make it snappy, I have a meeting at 2:38.” Everyone looks so serious, so short of kindness, so full of urgency and purpose. Obviously, we are preoccupied with matters of great importance in modern times. That must be why we’re leaving a wake of flotsam behind us, broken homes, lost friendships, dysfunctional children, the largest number of incarcerated people in the world. It’s understandable in a way. We need to set priorities and allocate our time efficiently, and it is hard to deal with time consuming issues that require deeper weighing and thinking.

We take pride in being modern, avant-garde, at the cutting edge, as if modernity is some kind of novel happenstance. Far from it, modernity is just the same old hat dressed up in a pretty new ribbon. Heck, the cavemen were connoisseurs of fine loincloths in their day. Come to think of it, they must have been extremely busy too, what with all the hunting for supper and all the running to avoid becoming supper.

That may be part of the problem, a primal urge to rush around for fear of now imaginary lurking beasts. If so, well, we just have to live with it. On the other hand, it is well worth considering that the purpose of technology is to ease our burdens and simplify the drudgery of chores, not to turn us into little tempests in tea pots.

We do pursue happiness in modern times, though, because happiness is an enduring human need that cuts across the ages. The cavemen had their questing moments, according to the sketchy historical records that have survived. Tapping a good looking gal on the head and carrying her to a cave is a fine example of such pursuits in long gone days. I wonder if the cavemen ever found happiness. It’s unlikely, given that their lives were too short and unforgiving.  

Happiness remains an elusive tease even today, despite the complex searching tools at our disposal. We google happiness and browse through 10,246,321 web sites, earnestly sifting the good from the bad, the interesting from the crass. There ought to be one good formula for happiness among the ten million plus sites, but none look promising except for a few strange incantations and a funny mushroom or two.

Sad to say, happiness is nowhere to be found, so, what are we to do? Should we conclude that happiness is a mere siren song with no good substance? Actually, this is not a bad conclusion to reach, although one that is only half true. Happiness is an ideal and, as such, it is a siren song. But ideals are alright, even if they’re not the real thing, because they lure us away from the gutter.

Fortunately, life does provide a simple if roundabout way to satisfy our quest for happiness. Instead of tilting at windmills, like the forlorn Don Quixote, we can always accept our human limitations and quit being unhappy. It’s a case of canceling negatives, in other words, don’t be unhappy and, zap, you got the critter by the tail.

Is this approach too simplistic for our more advanced modern times? Probably, I mean, how can you beat the sophisticated time management techniques of ten-second-text-message romancing. Me, I’m just a simple guy. Give me a little smile and the pleasure of good company, and I am not unhappy at all.