Dangerous of Nostalgia, part 2

Waiter Detox Day 5

There is no better day that today. There has never been an America greater than there is right now. There has never been smarter, more compassionate people than those who live today. The pop music has never been better, more interesting nor has there ever been more variety and better musicianship. Food tastes better. In fact, fuck anyone who thinks 'those were the days' because, let's face it, these are the days.

And if this is not the case, then there is nothing wrong with the world at large, there is only the problem with the individual, the person who looks back at some remote time and thinks that things were better then.

What about COVID? What about global warming? What about bipolorsian politics? What about the insidious and ubiquitous algorithms that are ruling and shaping our lives? Yes, those things are bad, but we've had to deal with all sorts of fucked up societal issues and problems ever since society began. I do, however, feel very bad about global warming and I will truly miss a peaceful planet, but that is another story for another time.

What I'm really trying to focus on is the nostalgia that forms the ideas inside of people.

It never ceased to amaze me during my 21 years in the service industry how many times in the course of a single day that I was forced into that musical loop of Fleetwood Mac, The Rolling Stones and The Eagles. Musical complacency. Remember how I mentioned the hatred I feel when I look into a befuddled baby boomer's face? Why am I still forced to listen to the music they listened to when they were young? Hell, I come from the 1970s, and I remember Fleetwood Mac and The Eagles on the radio back then when their music was new, and they weren't that great then. What makes things worse is when I'm in a room filled with people all younger than me and we're still listening to the fucking Eagles. And once when I was talking to young people and they were excited to go see an Eagles cover band. They only thing worse than The Eagles has to be the tribute band.

I've become very attracted to the idea of having younger friends these last few years. They are good to have only for nothing more than life hasn't jaded them yet. They are fun to talk to and I love to ask them what music they're into, what books they read and their opinions about things. They don't feel all sullied up with nostalgia. Ancient history for them were the events of last Tuesday. What matters to them are the things that should matter, the here and now.

As I've gotten older and remained as long as I did in the restaurant business, one thing really stand out to me, and that is how I was able to be so nice and so compassionate to those I would otherwise avert my eyes from while walking on the streets. I've had to be part of all sorts of conversations about republican vs democrat, hometown sports teams vs everyone else's hometown sports teams, this great restaurant or bar that I would never know because they closed years ago, or the constant complaint about the overpriced drinks or food I was serving. It was very tiresome. And all the while Fucking Fleetwood Mac on repeat on the sound system. I always wanted to tell these people, 'fuck you and your political party, sports team or church because organized things are for group-think losers. If you don't like the price of drinks and food, go by a flux capacitor and go back to the 1976 and in the words of this same fucking song, you can go your own way.' But I never said a word. I just wanted the tip.

It's over now. It's not nostalgia I want when I think of all those years. It's not that I want the time or the conversation back. I don't want retribution. I used to tell people that the service industry is a great place to be only because it was the most amount of money I could earn with the least amount of time and effort. Of course, I worked in very, very expensive restaurants, and I know that the garden variety Olive Garden server probably does not make what I made. I would be remiss not to take on the opportunity cost of a service industry job. For twenty one years I worked when my friends and family did not, and that took a toll.