Bitter Pill

Mr. Obama caught a lot of flack over the last couple of weeks when he said that ordinary Americans are growing bitter. Bitter that their jobs are disappearing. Bitter that the money they make is worth less than it was a few years ago. Bitter that, even though they work hard, they’re having to choose between buying gas and buying food. Bitter that a higher echelon is prospering while the rest of us are paying for their prosperity.


The whole affair points unwaveringly to media outlets’ inherent shallowness: hype before substance at all cost. So instead of being objective, they found a word that would stir up trouble, and then used it to death.


It’s actually not dead, though. It’s still popping up all over the place when someone doesn’t have a legitimate question to ask.


The hyper-media world we live in does nothing so much as beat dead horses long after they should have been in the grave. It holds everyone to a standard of perfection and blandness that no one should be held to. One honest comment and the hornets descend, ready to sting you to death if it means getting ratings.


The questions no one’s put to average guys like me is “Are you bitter? And does it offend you to be outed by a presidential candidate?”


My job is more stable and secure than most, but I’ve been coming up on bitter for while now. My income doesn’t keep up with the rising cost of living. Everything from rent to food to organic Sumatran coffee (our one splurge) has gotten more expensive.


My dollar doesn’t buy as much as it used to, but I still work as hard (and often harder) than I used to.


I don’t even want to know what’s going to happen to my health insurance premium when it comes up for renewal July 1. My guess is that I’ll lose a little, and maybe a lot, of my gross pay.


I hope not.


I just can’t afford it right now.


Among so many things I can’t afford right now. Like new glasses or dental work.


And I’d like to go home and see Mama. Since Daddy died last July, I feel an unusual obligation to make sure she’s okay. There’s only so much I can tell on the phone, and being there in person helps put my mind at ease.

Besides, she just likes to see me. I think I’m the only kid she has that talks to her honestly and doesn’t ask for anything from her.


But I just can’t afford it. With gas going to $4/gallon over the summer, that 1500 mile round trip, even in our very fuel-efficient car, is not possible. On top of that, I’d have to get a rental for Shannon to use while I was gone.


I work hard. Really hard. I make any number of unilateral decisions about policy. I make budgets for complicated companies. I set up software to optimize performance and reporting capabilities. I establish departmental operating procedure.


But I can’t afford to get new glasses even though I need them, get my teeth fixed before I lose all of them or go home for a few days to see my widowed mother.


Today was “Administrative People’s Day”, or something like that. And I got some nice little token gifts.


Unfortunately, some chocolates and frilly note pads ain’t going to get me any more closer to new glasses, usable teeth or home than I was yesterday.


I see the divide between two Americas that John Edwards talked about so much. I am in one, and the people I work for are in another. I work as hard as they do, and am more talented than most of them. They make 3 to 4 times what I do.

How can one not be at least a little bit bitter? If one’s being honest, that is.