Resa’s Pieces

“It’s always something,” said Roseanne Roseannadanna, the great character created by Gilda Radner on the 80’s Saturday Night Live.  

“Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings” from Mansfield Park, Jane Austen’s third novel published in 1814.  You may be more familiar with the movie versions; there have been four of them. The universal theme still speaks to us today of finding the right mate. (Forgive all the details. You can take the teacher out of the class, but you can’t take the teacher or “class” out of her.)
  
From the 19th century through the 20th century and today, life is contending with “something” and “busy nothings.” Yet, we’re convinced our daily life is so much more hectic and nerve wracking than those of the past.
  
Is Attila the Hun and his hordes thundering down the hill toward us? In a sense, yes.  Human beings have always been at war, expecting to be annihilated at any point. As an Iowa third grader during the Cold War of the 60s, we had siren drills where we had to get under our desks and cover our heads in case of atomic war. My father’s response to this useless practice was “Kiss your sweet ass goodbye!” 

Much of our time today is spent with the ‘busy nothings,” the “something” of staring at our phones and laptops.  At least our ancestors didn’t need to pester their devices about Harry and Meghan and the recent Coronation of King Charles III. (Poor guy, God save him). 

Yet, they needed to communicate how they felt about their world. The prehistoric Chauvet Cave paintings in France, the native American petroglyphs, the diary keepers when easier materials came along than scribbling on rocks.
 
Today, we still have the desire to tell the world our “somethings.” Our cave drawings have become blogs. “Fish got to swim, birds got to fly.” (Look it up, do I have to do everything for you?)
     
Writers have to write.