By Scott Molgard
I stared out the windshield, the white dashes flying by me like tracer bullets. I probably hadn’t blinked in a couple of hours and my brain was on auto-pilot. My personal experiment into the lethal dose of caffeine was well under way. We had put a few hundred miles behind us, Linnea was sleeping, and Sequoia was leaning on my drool-soaked shoulder.
We had left Boston and were headed to Dayton, Ohio. My brother is in the Air Force and he is stationed at Wright Patterson Air Force Base, where he is a nurse, has a wife Kristen, a son, Mikey and two dogs: a Boxer name Loki and a Great Dane named Shadow.
David Gray was in the CD, and I was singing along at the top of my lungs, but my mind was dwelling on the past–and the future. I realized, as thoughts flashed by at 80 miles per hour, how quickly the World Race was approaching. I thought about how God has prepared us for such a time as this.
From an early age I have been instilled with a deep displeasure for the status quo. I have always needed change, and have always chafed under the strain of conformity. My mom has told me the story of being a young child and being angry at a commercial for the toy I had, saying that the commercials don’t tell the truth, that the toy wasn’t as good as advertised.
One major step I had to take was to leave behind the cult I had grown up in, that I would no longer conform to those standards. The other members of the cult respect my decision, have supported the decision, but I am not sure they understand this decision. Life in this cult was so full of empty promises and straight-out lies.
The cult I have been a part of treated me like a king; I was well fed, too well fed. I was entertained. My ego was stroked. It felt good at times; in fact, it was addictive.
The cult is our American life. A huge brainwashed mass of people. A religion of “me.” A religion of conformity and ignorance. Starting with young age, Disney films, our public education. Our “opiate of the masses,” television, and now, the Internet. Tolerance: meaning don’t offend me, or even try to make me think. The leaders of the cult: bankers, politicians, teachers, pastors, actors. The Matrix.
Leaving this behind, trying to leave behind a branch of the cult called the American Christian church, where we try to serve both God and Money; trying to strangle the nasty pig called materialism, while it bites my hands and tries to eat newly-birthed wild dreams; abandoning these pleasures, I am not even sure where we are headed, or if we will return.
Leaving behind family and friends, beginning the good-byes and see-you-next-year’s. Realizing I will be saying this to my completely trusting dog. This dog that loves to lean and touch and play. That waits until we are watching her so she can eat. She has no idea; what will she think or feel? Will she recognize me next year? Will I ever see her again? Am I humanizing her too much? All I know is I am abandoning her.
Abandonment. A necessary part of preparation.
Caught on the fence, what hurts worse: leaving the American dream or living it? I need to find out.