It seems each morning, about this time, I hear the whistle of the trains as they pass through town -- the low rumble of the wheels on the track, pierced by short bursts of the horn at each crossing. The freight rolls on.
Yesterday, Christmas Day, we made a quick trip into the DFW Metroplex for a day with my wife's family. Traffic was light on our way there, except for the trucks plying the Interstate with more freight rolling to its destination.
The wheels of commerce never cease. If they were to do so we would be at a loss as to how to live. We, in general, have lost most of our survival skills -- or, they have morphed into something our ancestors wouldn't recognize. They have become feral in some ways as we seek to avoid, or to defend against the predators that come with overcrowding and concentration into population centers -- the very centers that survive only by the freight that plies our highways and railroads and, although not especially familiar to me, waterways.
Today will be one in which many of the gifts of yesterday will be returned for credit, only to be exchanged for something just as useless. There is an obsession with the material that is part of the acquisitive nature of every person. Perhaps, in some sense of irony, the exchanges will result in a multiplication of items because the post-Christmas sales offer huge discounts, so the credit of the pre-Christmas purchase is multiplied upon return. Maybe the best gift for a materialist is one they don't desire because they can exchange it now for two of something they had hoped to acquire.
Already, the minimal nod to the "reason for the season" has faded into the normal hustle and bustle of life.
Some of us are merely "lost" because we don't know what to do until the return of normalcy. I wonder, will it be multiplied due to the discounted value?
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