electrolux137
Well-known member
~
When I was a little boy and my family lived in Virginia, it was not uncommon to come home and find a covered-dish or basket sitting on the porch that was left there for us by an secret benefactor.
Sometimes it was a casserole or home-made cake; sometimes it was home-grown fruit or vegetables; sometimes a batch of fresh-from-the-kitchen cookies or a jar of home-canned preserves that an industrious housewife had put up.
This was just something that folks in the south did once upon a time: quiet, kindly gestures of neighborliness extended anonymously with no thought of, or need for, thanks. The food-gift-givers derived gratitude from the act of giving to others.
CAN YOU IMAGINE a family nowadays coming home to find a mysterious, unexpected package or dish sitting on their porch? They would call the Police, who would call the FBI, who would call the Bomb Squad who would show up in full-body armor, who would call the Haz-Mat Team who would show up in whole-body haz-mat suits.
The bomb-squad would send over their remote-controlled bomb-fetcher robot and take the “bomb” to a safe place to detonate it. Then the Haz-Mat Team would seal the remnants of the exploded "bomb” in a hazardous waste container and take it to the lab for analysis and a scan for human DNA to then look for a match in their database of known terrorists.
Meanwhile, the FBI would dust the folks’ porch for fingerprints and look for evidence, then sweep through the neighborhood interrogating residents of the area and asking for footage from security cameras.
When it was discovered that the “bomb” left by “terrorists” was a tuna casserole or a German chocolate cake, the matter would quietly and discreetly be put to rest by the authorities -- who realized in time the matter would largely be forgotten by the residents of the area.
However, those neighbors, now harboring suspicions that a terrorist might be in their midst, become a little more distant, a little more standoffish, keep to themselves a little more, and become a little less friendly. There are fewer waves of hello and smiles to one another, less small talk across front yards or back-yard fences. People put up cameras and get guard dogs and security services.
We live in a very, very different time than we did in the mid-1950s. A time that -- despite the innumerable technological, scientific and medical advances that have been made -- is in many ways not a better time.
-ooOoo-
“[P]rogress has never been a bargain. You have to pay for it. Sometimes I think there's a man who sits behind a counter and says, "Alright, you can have a telephone, but you lose privacy and the charm of distance. Madam, you may vote, but at a price. You lose the right to retreat behind the powder-puff or your petticoat." "Mister, you may conquer the air, but the birds will lose their wonder and the clouds will smell of gasoline."
-- from Inherit the Wind by Jerome Lawrence and Robert Edwin Lee
http://journal.alabamachanin.com/2008/07/the-gift-part-2-or-squash-on-the-doorstep
When I was a little boy and my family lived in Virginia, it was not uncommon to come home and find a covered-dish or basket sitting on the porch that was left there for us by an secret benefactor.
Sometimes it was a casserole or home-made cake; sometimes it was home-grown fruit or vegetables; sometimes a batch of fresh-from-the-kitchen cookies or a jar of home-canned preserves that an industrious housewife had put up.
This was just something that folks in the south did once upon a time: quiet, kindly gestures of neighborliness extended anonymously with no thought of, or need for, thanks. The food-gift-givers derived gratitude from the act of giving to others.
CAN YOU IMAGINE a family nowadays coming home to find a mysterious, unexpected package or dish sitting on their porch? They would call the Police, who would call the FBI, who would call the Bomb Squad who would show up in full-body armor, who would call the Haz-Mat Team who would show up in whole-body haz-mat suits.
The bomb-squad would send over their remote-controlled bomb-fetcher robot and take the “bomb” to a safe place to detonate it. Then the Haz-Mat Team would seal the remnants of the exploded "bomb” in a hazardous waste container and take it to the lab for analysis and a scan for human DNA to then look for a match in their database of known terrorists.
Meanwhile, the FBI would dust the folks’ porch for fingerprints and look for evidence, then sweep through the neighborhood interrogating residents of the area and asking for footage from security cameras.
When it was discovered that the “bomb” left by “terrorists” was a tuna casserole or a German chocolate cake, the matter would quietly and discreetly be put to rest by the authorities -- who realized in time the matter would largely be forgotten by the residents of the area.
However, those neighbors, now harboring suspicions that a terrorist might be in their midst, become a little more distant, a little more standoffish, keep to themselves a little more, and become a little less friendly. There are fewer waves of hello and smiles to one another, less small talk across front yards or back-yard fences. People put up cameras and get guard dogs and security services.
We live in a very, very different time than we did in the mid-1950s. A time that -- despite the innumerable technological, scientific and medical advances that have been made -- is in many ways not a better time.
-ooOoo-
“[P]rogress has never been a bargain. You have to pay for it. Sometimes I think there's a man who sits behind a counter and says, "Alright, you can have a telephone, but you lose privacy and the charm of distance. Madam, you may vote, but at a price. You lose the right to retreat behind the powder-puff or your petticoat." "Mister, you may conquer the air, but the birds will lose their wonder and the clouds will smell of gasoline."
-- from Inherit the Wind by Jerome Lawrence and Robert Edwin Lee
http://journal.alabamachanin.com/2008/07/the-gift-part-2-or-squash-on-the-doorstep
