Milkshake

This post was written about activities and thoughts that occurred on 5/3/2020.

The boyfriend wanted to get a Cookies and Cream milkshake from Fatburger today, so that was the plan. I thought that as long as we were going there, I might as well get one too, but I decided on "Banana" flavor. Call me crazy.

These are the days when it takes just one activity to complete our "to-do" list, especially on Sundays. I will admit that, on occasion, the Sunday "to-do" list has no activities at all; this admission comes without guilt, because, well, Sunday. So this Sunday I was excited to have a activity on the list, even if that activity consisted of only one mission.

What is it about milkshakes that make them so appealing? Do I even need to explain it to you? Give me anything with ice cream and all discernment is tossed out the window. Milkshakes are a treats you can enjoy either with a meal, or on their own. If you choose to have a meal with it, the contents are not up for discussion. It must be either a hamburger or a hot dog (preferably a hamburger!), and if you respect tradition, french fries. Milkshake appeal does not migrate beyond these items for good reason--once you find the perfect match, don't fuck with it.
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Milkshakes are often tied to one's childhood--they carry a nostalgic element in that many happy memories either began or ended with a milkshake. When I think of my childhood, milkshakes were like a kid's version of an orgasm; they were the best thing in the world at the time, and each time you had one it was like your first. Not that they were sexual, they were just perfect, every time, like a mother's hug after you fall down or running naked in a warm summer rain.

Perhaps we all have nostalgia for treats from childhood. Isn't childhood best viewed through nostalgia's lens? In reality, being a child is not that great--though we may remember it as a time of unfettered freedom, the truth is that our enjoyment was often cut off at the knees, and there wasn't a damn thing we could do about it. This is because our freedom, if you could call it that, was without responsibility--that was held by our parents. Our freedom was not free. So maybe it wasn't actually freedom at all then?

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Freedom is a firecracker topic these days, and for good reason. I notice that many of those fighting for it have no real idea what it is. They think they do, but what they really imagine it to be is the child's version of freedom: without responsibility. This country was supposedly founded on the idea of freedom of expression, but when you read between the lines, it was more like freedom of approved expression, or freedom of my expression but not yours. We see this going on today on both the left and the right, sadly, so it is not a partisan issue.

The truth is that freedom of expression means exactly that--whether you agree with or like what is being expressed or not. As long as the expression is not threatening to anyone, the sky's the limit! I find it interesting that the only time one is held responsible for the effects of their expression is when the expression is a threat in some way--otherwise you have to clean your own wounds. The bigger problem is that the ones doing the expressing rarely take any responsibility for their words, even when threatening, while holding others responsible for theirs. Conditional freedom.

In a world where the norm is to let yourself off the hook, I have to ask myself: Why I have spent a lifetime feeling guilty?

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The founders of the country were trying to escape tyranny, which is admirable, but there really is no perfect system of government, is there? That's because governments are created and run by people. The Constitution is a groundbreaking document is because its writers knew this about governments, and about people, and necessary checks and balances were put into place to keep any one person from having too much power. It was a bold experiment back then and continues to be so--can we let the people have personal freedom while safeguarding them with laws that limit the same?

Ideally, yes. But the problem today is that this idea assumes that the people being governed are adults, not children. Children, on the other hand, are to be governed by the adults. What could go wrong?

Here is what went wrong. The people who run the government became more interested in their own well-being than the well-being of the people, leaving the people to choose between parenting well and making a living. Children left without parenting have to parent themselves, and we all know what happens when that happens: no regulation, no limits, no boundaries, no restrictions. Children not only don't want those things, they also lack the ability to self-administer them until a certain age. And when they never get those things they grow into adults who continue to think and behave like children, wanting freedom without taking or holding responsibility for their actions.

Today, adult children are having tantrums because they want to go to the beach in Southern California, which, by the way, I do understand. The weather is gorgeous. We have been cooped up for nearly two months due to COVID-19. We are an active society here, with fitness being more important than god (as it should be!). But the truth is that we can't go to the beach yet, because it is not safe. It is not safe for those who go or for the people they then are around. It is not safe--and the science backs this up.

Adults can understand this. Adults, functional ones at least, understand that sometimes we don't get to do what we want to do, don't get to have what we want to have, don't get to say what we want to say. There are no restrictions on what you think, so go wild in that area if you want, but restrictions in the other areas are in place for one reason only: we live among others. And when you live among others, there is a shared responsibility for one another. Don't believe me? Try zipping through a red light next time you are driving and see what happens.

I have always wondered why traffic lights are one rare area where people mostly cooperate with each other, and I think the reason is because if you don't, the effects are immediate and potentially tragic. By contrast, going to the beach seems harmless, doesn't it? And yet the science of this virus tells us that a whole new cluster of COVID infections could result from just one infected person coming into contact with others on a leisurely walk on the boardwalk. It just doesn't happen in your immediate awareness, and you probably wouldn't know those who become infected. But what if the tables were turned, and you did know those who were affected by your behavior? What if they were your family? Would that be enough to make someone rethink their need to go to the beach?

It should, of course, but it shouldn't have to come to this. It should matter if other people become affected by our choices simply because they are other people. To adults, this should matter, not just because it is morally right, but because it is right right and how a civil society works. In a civil society, though there are differences in beliefs and opinions, people share responsibility for one another's well-being, since they see themselves as part of a culture, not just an individual taking what they can take. This is freedom with responsibility, and this is what the bozos wanting to go to the beach don't realize--that they are chasing a false form of freedom--a freedom that exists at the cost of others'. Sometimes, even children know that this is not a good way to behave--so what's our excuse?

The excuse is not that people don't care (though some don't), but that our culture is dysfunctional (the reason some don't care), and for many the only way to win in the short term is as a lone individual; this is understandable (but sad) because it perpetuates the dysfunction. I am not interested in winning while others lose if I can help it (though I admit that sometimes I do, because I am white, male, educated, tall, and privileged), so I make an effort, with my own choices and behavior,  to influence the culture to change. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't, but I never lose sight of the world I want to live in, or the world I want to share with others.

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My values are solid not because they are better than yours, but because they are internally rather than externally sourced--I occasionally veer from them because they can be externally influenced. This is why it is important to surround yourself with people who support your values. One of the reasons I am with my boyfriend is because we support each other's values (mostly) and each other's vision of a more functional society (completely). We make each other better. But when it comes to milkshakes, one could debate if we are aligning with our values or veering from them. Sometimes the answer is not so clear cut!

Dairy products are controversial because of the effect of dairy farms on the environment. The plastic cups and straws our shakes came in, as well as the plastic lids, were thrown into the trashcan where they will likely go to a landfill and last forever. In this respect our choice to have milkshakes was not a responsible choice, or one we even had to be responsible for, and we knew this. We still chose to get them because we will not get milkshakes for the rest of the year, and because it is nearly impossible to not have a negative effect on something with every choice you make if you live in a city, and because we normally make sustainable choices, and, well, because we wanted them. In other words, even though we wanted a childhood treat, we choose as adults, aware of the pros and cons, accepting both, recognizing that the norm is more important than the exceptions. We tried to choose responsibly, given the choices available for those wanting milkshakes while out and about. I admit it was not perfect by a long shot.

Sometimes this is the best we can do, isn't it? And sometimes we can do better. The goal is not perfection, but awareness, effort, and conscious choice. The goal is to be a functional adult. And functional adults realize that true freedom comes with responsibility, or it ain't freedom, it ain't freedom at all.

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This morning, on an early morning bike ride, I rode past a man in a wheelchair sweeping debris out of the curb on Figueroa Street in Highland Park. He was an older man, though I didn't get a clear look at his face, and he had a small kitchen broom and one of those handle dustpans that usually connect to the broom so that you don't lose either (or you lose both). Figueroa Street is a major artery, not a quiet residential street, and I wondered why he was "bothering" with this task. But as I passed by him I suddenly got it, or at least I think I did, and I shouted out "Looks good!" and gave him a thumbs up.

What I "got" is that he was doing what he could to create a world he prefers to live in, one where the curbs are clean and where we all pitch in to keep them that way. I also suspect that, given his disability, this was something that he could do, and that it gave him a sense of purpose and importance, both of which can be elusive for older folks with disabilities. Regardless of whether his intention was along these lines or not, he has no way of knowing that he influenced me. He reminded me that anyone can choose to act as though their choices affect others (responsibly). He reminded me that when we create purpose for ourselves, others can benefit. He reminded me that small actions add up to big change. He reminded me that sometimes a clean curb is the best we can do, but also the beginnings of a larger culture shift. He didn't have to sweep the curb, but I suspect that he did it because he still recognizes that he is a part of a shared world, a shared world that includes other people.

I rode on down Figueroa St., but could not stop thinking about the man in the wheelchair. I hope that if I ever find myself in the position of being older, possibly in a wheelchair, that I will make the choice of rolling out to the street and sweeping up the curb. I realize that the chances of that happening depend on my choosing freedom with responsibility, more often than not, starting today.

The day after the boyfriend and I drank our milkshakes, he told me that his stomach was "messed up", and that he would not be having another milkshake for at least a year. I felt badly for him, but I also admired his willingness to have the milkshake and accept responsibility for the consequences and choose accordingly rather than pretending that a creamy sugary drink would be good for his stomach. But sometimes, the upside is worth the downside, isn't it? At least if you are willing to take personal responsibility for the downside. The next time we want a milkshake, though, I think I will make them at home, in the blender, and put them in frosty glasses, sans straws. It's a start, I suppose--a start toward making sure my curb is swept clean.