I am familiar with the phrase “boredom is a choice.”  And I understand that for some people which bathroom they are most comfortable in is a choice.  But yesterday at Emanuel Hospital I heard a new one: “Which race do you consider yourself?”

Actually, as I thought that over, it made as much sense to me as lots of other things these days.  Remember when eye color was an identifying feature?  That was before the rainbow of choices in contact lenses.  In fact, there is hardly an aspect of our lives that doesn’t involve choices.  There don’t seem to be any ‘givens’ any more.  It’s a little crazy-making.

I’m not at all sure what the root problem is.  Is it that ‘the grass is always greener’?  Or is it more one of those ‘because we can’ things?  Or maybe it’s a deep conspiracy by therapists to insure their job security.  My mind feels like it’s bending a bit too much when I try to figure it out.  I get boggled enough at Fred Meyers (or any other large grocery store) when I look at the cereal choices.  OMG!!  It seems easier to choose  eggs and bacon for breakfast!

Now that we are naming each generation, I think this next one should be called ‘The Choice Generation.’ (Not to be confused with Pro-Choice, which is something entirely different.)  It seems to me that there are no hards-and-fasts about anything.  I know young parents who go to great lengths not to ever say ‘no’ to their toddlers. It’s crazy-making.  Whatever happened to guidelines and parameters and acceptance of things as they are?  What happened to facts and truth and reality?

I think I was born before we got into naming generations.  My mom always said that I was born “during the Depression.”  Come to think of it, maybe I’m part of the Depressed Generation.  Some days it seems admirably fitting…