As I prepared to take some large metal items in to recycle, I decided to maximize the utility of my trip by taking all the metal I could find. Consequently, I started collecting aluminum cans. My collection lead to several interesting discoveries that made sense but were not obvious, but the most interesting thing I noticed was the type of can most common in my zip code. I found a LOT of Bud Light beer cans, and that made me sad.
From my kayaking cohort, I know that Bud Light is a beer they won't even accept when it's free. Basically, it's a cheap beer that will get you drunk. At least 15% of all the cans were Bud Light (various sizes), and of the beer, Bud Light constituted 60% of the beer cans found. I found them in paper bags, in gutters, in storm drains, and in the concrete wash behind the house. I found them everywhere, every morning, every day, every time I looked, I found at least one.
Although neither scientific nor conclusive, this constitutes a warning sign in my mind. Apparently I live near a lot of people who are so miserable and so poor that they'll buy this piss beer to drink away their problems for a while. I know many if not all of us self medicate in one fashion or another in order to get through whatever pain we suffer, but alcohol has long been a staple of those trying to forget, at least for a short while, things that they prefer not recollect. The abundance of this particular cheap brand of beer struck me as interesting.
During the time of this experimental collection, I also held some conversations with people about why people do what they do. I have come to the conclusion that many of the people who live in Vegas and most if not all of those who come here are desperate to escape their humdrum lives. Either they have horrors they hope to erase, mistakes they hope to fix by gambling, or other pains they hope to medicate away through "vegas rehab". I think far too many of us live "quiet lives of desperation", and because they do not believe in or turn to God, they must turn to chemistry to find an escape from reality. Unfortunately, it does not and never will last.
Every attempt of which I am aware to run from your problems ends in failure. I understand why people try. I know my own share of trauma that I revisit far more frequently than I like trying to change the outcome in my head. Last night, as I prayed, I asked God for help carrying these moments, because nothing I know or try actually seems to help for more than a week or two. You cannot fight the past with present, and you cannot solve emotion or irrationality with logic. Those things happened, and they changed you, so running from them is as effective as running from yourself. I exercised until I injured myself, and now I eat things I regret almost immediately, and it manifests itself I'm sure in my visage and demeanor because I know it's evident in my blood pressure. Like Gaston tells Lefu, more beer won't help. It's just more beer.
This morning on the drive in, I counted five Bud Light cans in the first 1.5 miles, and that made me sad. I actually had a decent evening. There were no fireworks, and there was nothing special about it, and I didn't accomplish overmuch, but it was a quiet, decent, comfortable night, which is saying something for July in Vegas. I know that somewhere nearby, there are people who, no matter how they may appear on the outside, feel miserable, lonely, angry, or agitated on the inside. Some of these people will appear to have everything. They are prisoners of conscience of some sort, and the beer is probably a way to escape. People don't drink cheap beer for fun or flavor or frivolity. They usually drink it because they are sad, and I am sad because I don't know how to help them. They probably got everything they liked and still aren't happy.
It brings to mind the words of a tale I heard as a boy. A king who loved his daughter sought a way to bring her lasting happiness. As the story goes, the wizard provided a toy box that would produce whatever toy the princess wanted when she wished for it. The girl quickly grew unhappy. The king went back to the wizard who provided another box that took away all the toys. Without anything else to give her, the king spent time with his daughter instead trying to comfort her, and that's when she became happy. Happiness is found within.
Down in the gym at work, there's a young lady who talks with me almost every time I visit. On one of our visits, we discussed my trip to Alaska and the quiet isolation of the wilderness. I told her that one of the most important things I learned from that trip was that I was comfortable alone because I liked who I was. She told me she hoped to get to a place where she was content with who she was and what she was doing. That's where you find lasting happiness- contentment. I console myself that despite the disappointments, dejection, defeats, and desertion, I did the best I could with what I had in those circumstances. It's unfair to judge my past self with present information. I don't need to turn to beer because I have other things I actually enjoy. I can watch a thunderstorm for the sake of it. I can eat a freshly grown garden tomato and actually enjoy it. I can read a book, play an instrument, go for a walk, or take a nap, and I get real pleasure out of those things because I am ok with simple. Leonardo DiVinci allegedly said that simplicity is the ultimate sophistication. Plus, I'm righting myself with my Maker, and Bud Light is nothing like God's Light.
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