11,865. RUDIMENTS, pt. 728

RUDIMENTS, pt. 728
(slaggard mud-heap of dead Detroits)

Antoine de Saint-Exupery had it

that, 'In life there are no solutions,

there are forces in motion; create

them and the solutions will follow.'

That was sort of start-up new-agey

self-help talk back then. It took

place, a phrase like that, before

some of the world's more crazy

monstrosities took place. Hitler.

Hirohito. And the rest. So much

for planning your own solutions.

No matter; the long road of life  -

which is exactly pretty short  -  is

sorrowful and mostly deserves

more neglect than it's given. The

idea of chasing all these dreams

and solutions is crazy. What I

mostly learned is that the best

bet is to just shut-up and pull

everything in close. Concern

yourself only with the moment

you're in, the absolute circle

where you are standing. I don't

think much else matters, and

the rest is just pushing product:

'Buy this, for that, and it will

solve those other things too.'

-

That's my foray into self-help.

Back in the 1950's, from what

I can recall, Bayonne people,

and Avenel people too, and

amazing as it all sounds now,

the route most taken to maintain

the sort of equilibrium that any

of the New Age and Self-Help

patter seeks, was, basically,

cigarettes, alcohol, and sex. And

everybody was in on it  -  and

that's the era now that you keep

hearing of as having given us all

that great industrial might, the

smokestacks and the machines

belching smoke and fire producing

a thousand things everyone was

told they needed, and giving us

that grand, golden age, of new

housing, expansion, colleges and

education, miracle drugs and cures,

inventions, developments, new

machines and labor-saving devices,

and so much or. A regular Golden

Era of might and value. All built

on what are now considered three

of the worst vices we have. Sex.

Smoking. Booze. Good God, you'd

now have to think they were all

doomed, by today's standards. But,

you know what, I guess they were.

They're all dead, and that might

and fury is all now a slaggard

muck-heap of dead Detroits, drug-

addicted, tattooed troglodytes, and

overly-sensitive grown-up mall

rats. Back in 1945, a war guy

could get all the smokes he wanted,

plus free college. But first he had

to fight in a gruesome war. Now,

they want ti give it to the current

crop of needle-nosed phone kids,

for free for doing nothing, except

maybe being sensitive, ambiguously

sexual, and without a care.

That's worth.....something?

-

It's funny too, how the American

world just sort of exploded about

1965. We had, (I say 'we,' but I

still discount myself. I mean

'America,' our land, etc. even

though it's not that any more

either), by that point, just

about every marvel needed,

in the pre-computer age anyway.

Princess phones, recliners and

motorized sofa-swings, instant

food, cures and drugs, big

buildings, etc. And then we

just quit it. We became fools

and jerks. We had a few dead

heavies  -  President, Senator,

leaders, weirdos  -  and by 1970

it had all turned to crap. What

we had, we no longer even cared

about or wanted. We were done,

while Europe was just getting

started. Coming slowly back off

the balls of its ass with all that

wartime ruin and destrcution,

they realized they had nothing,

and all they saw was all that we

had, and THEY decided they

then waned it too! So the second

go-round ensured. The dazed and

fractured Americans no longer

had a clue. They didn't know

what they wanted; they didn't

know, and couldn't understand

either, why any of those freaky,

small-car Europeans would want

the junk we just gave up on.

But they did want it, and so

we continued to produce it.

It kept everybody busy. And

then the same thing happened

again with the Asians  -  all

those crazy billions. They too

wanted to come up to speed.

Now the 'Euros' got involved.

Multi-nationals. Empires of

Corporations and Financiers to

set it all up, Advertisers to push

it and make shit up about it all,

tourism, flight, travel, disposable

crap. Americans were befuddled

nervous-breakdown freaks by this

time  -  the 'Louds' of TV fame  - 

and they interrupted their own

franchise for some 12 years of

useless carnage in Vietnam,

Laos, Thailand, and Cambodia.

Nothing like war to keep the

product going.

-

When I was at St. George

Press, in the late 1980's,

Merck Co., then based

fully in Rahway, was

going through a major

growth surge and we'd

get any number of their

up and coming college

grad newbies each in

charge of their own little

departments. These guys

were all polish and

professionalism, the up

and coming executives of

their day. They worked,

for graphics and art/design

and printing purposes under

a guy named Warren Behan.
He was the graphics Manager
for Merck's in-house printing. 

A cool name which I always

got a kick out of. Not

Brendan Behan, the writer;

this was Warren. He retired

soon after. But these guys

all considered it a vast

promotion and career

advancement to be sent

for 2 or 3 years, to Merck

in Japan. That was the growth

field, the fast-track to their

advancement, and that transfer

meant they were making it.

I don't know where any of

them are now; Now they're 

maybe all burned-out wrecks,

or suicides. But I hope it

all worked for them. When
they got that assignment for
Japan, they knew they were 'in.'

-

It just all goes to show, New

York, Tokyo, Brussels, Beijing,

(Peking, then), and any of those

other, newer, world-cities, they

all stepped forward and took

their places. I never, ever did

think of NYC as failing or

falling behind, and pretty

much it was all I knew  -  that's

where my 'History' lines were,

the evidences of the past, the

tales and stories of the people

and places I'd learned about.

It was OK for me, and I never

needed 'motion' or 'solution.'

Like I put it before, I just drew

it all in, stayed close, and

pulled in tight. America

changed mightily; not me.

- 

It was funny to be aware of 

to be witnessing that change

as it happened. It probably 

happens in that same way for

everyone  -  worlds change

around all of us and only the

personal details of what we see

and note are any different. But,

this was for me, the miraculous.

The dead seventies were over.

The eighties held a theme-less

brush with themselves (which

I'll be getting to subsequently)

and the nineties and beyond

hadn't really beckoned. Once

my own 'world' had caught up

to George Orwell's '1984' and 

then rolled right past it, I wasn't 

sure what to expect. 2001, a

Space Oddity, yet to come?

-

I've always felt that everyone

else made it. I'm the complete

failure 'round these parts.

---

(part two next. Al Capp.

Charles Dickens. Comic

books and comic graphics

in America as it changed).