Gonzo Girl

The package arrived without fanfare. No white van pulling into my driveway. No text with a photo assuring that said package arrived. Instead, I opened up the mailbox and found a plain brown box. What did I order? I had to search my brain a bit, which isn’t so unusual these days. Right!  The special face cream I like with magic ingredients that stave off wrinkles and such. I had ordered it a week ago and here it was. 

I live in a rural area. The nearest box store is about 45 minutes away. We live near a small town that has all the basics available, but if I want something very special, very particular, it is difficult to find within about a 25 mile radius. You can imagine that rural living and the pandemic really upped my Amazon game. I mean, last year I spent, on average, $230 per month in Amazon purchases and that was a low spend year. The previous year, I spent about twice that much.  

So, last Spring, I deleted my Amazon account. No Prime Video, no Audible, No Kindle. Gone.

If you’ve read any of my blogs in the last year (e.g. Breaking up with Facebook, Just a Grandma) you probably know that my action was about more than the money.  

I  recently read Tim Wu’s, 2018 op-ed titled,The Tyranny of Convenience.  Now don’t misunderstand me. After living without a washing machine, dish washer and limiting our flushing for the past year due to a full septic replacement, believe me I am all for convenience. I mean, here I am, writing on my shiny computer, ready to upload my important thoughts to the internet with just a push of a button. I am all for convenience.  

But like everything, there is a tipping point.

When does convenience begin to shape who we are, how we operate in the world? It kind of gets to the core of things. The thought, “I will wait a week for my face cream.”, can quickly translate to, “I can’t wait a week for my face cream!”  But as Professor Wu puts it, “Convenience has the ability to make other options unthinkable.”  I’ve definitely felt this way. Why in the world wouldn’t I opt for the convenient answer? Of course, my over-thinking self immediately begins asking highly philosophical questions. If I am choosing convenience over all else, then am I not making decisions based on thoughtful consideration or personal taste? Or am I simply getting what is most convenient?  Does this convenience choice reduce my ability to delay gratification? And, if we take that just one step further, who then,is making the ultimate choice? It’s not surprising that “convenience” is a huge marketing strategy. Look it up. Amazon definitely has a corner on the “convenience” market. 

For me, the most disturbing aspect of Amazon’s convenience factor is that it had become the SINGLE  place I was going for everything. Most of my expendable income was going to one entity because that one entity had managed to gobble up countless small businesses. Very convenient.  And that one entity is run by a guy that quickly bent a knee to a person that is happy to gamble the average American’s money in order to create a bizarre empire.

I’m not sure, I have ever really had to endure much inconvenience in my life. That is, when something difficult arises, I can choose to either engage in it or bypass it with some sort of convenience. I do it all the time. I can dig the weed or I can apply an herbicide. I can walk the stairs or take the elevator. When I choose the more difficult option, I am confronted with discomfort, unpredictability and possible failure. Often, I have to give myself some sort of pep talk to do the hard thing. Remind myself that at my age, I can indeed, do the inconvenient. Easy? No. Not at all.  

As I watch our life savings drain out of our 401K, it is hard to imagine what the future will be. I’m retired, my husband works part-time. We are not rich people. We worked very hard to save for this part of our life with the single goal of not being a financial burden to our children. I know I am not alone in this story.  

We are indeed in inconvenient times. Discomfort, unpredictability and possible failure. But, I am ready to do the hard things. For me, the first, and possibly most difficult, is to look straight at the problem and not bury my head in the sand. (Although, I am a believer that taking breaks from this mess is essential to preserve energy and sanity.) I am looking at my bank account, I am looking at food and gas prices, I am looking at our rock bottom international image as a nation. I am looking at the terror we are inflicting on our own people – immigrants, LGBTQ+, people of color, women, the poor as well as the terror we are inflicting through imperialist aggression.

So here we are. It looks like it’s time to dig the weeds and take the stairs. I’m hoping others will feel the same way and do what, in my mind, is most American. That is, pulling up the proverbial bootstraps and getting to work. Every little thing is helpful. From assisting a neighbor, to waiting a week for your face cream, to showing solidarity for those that need it most.

For me, Mary Oliver’s famous quote, ““Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life”, has taken on a whole new meaning. I had always looked at this with a view of travel and adventure. Today, I look at it as a statement of conviction. 

 We are in trouble. And it’s very inconvenient.