My Own Dystopia

I've been reading a lot of dystopia recently, having been sucked into the Delirium trilogy on my commutes to and from the office. (Review is here.) And I do mean "sucked into" because I get way too deep into books. I'm far too easily transported into these places -- which is why I love books and why I don't read anything too dark. I don't have good boundries with imaginary stories.

Anyway, these dystopian novels make me rediculousely thankful for all that I have.

As a concept, dystopia is when our world goes bad. We run out of oil, tyrants take over the government imposing horrible laws, sun flairs, terrorist takeover, nuclear war, etc. It's not a good vision of our future. Books like Delirium, Maze Runner, Hunger Games, Fahrenheit-452 are excellent examples of this genre. They're fun books to read because they're dramatic and full of action, suspense and a little touch of romance.

But they're usually full of deprivation. People are starving. They live around camp fires and eat only what they trap or grow. They carry their belongings in a backpack and celebrate the event of a shower ... with soap. They're oppressed and fighting and tired.

And because I get way into books, I close the chapter, walk into my kitchen and marvel at all that I have. Pantry of food. Electricity keeping milk cold. A washing machine. A dishwasher! A grocery store and a Target down the street where I can pickup whatever I need.

I think of all the stupid crap in those stores. Lawn ornements? Really? Earrings. Picture frames. Throw pillows. I have so much. I'm so lucky.

And we waste so much. A pair of socks gets a hole, I toss it. Leah's shirt gets a stain that doesn't come out, garbage (or rag for cleaning). A basement full of used stuff I've replaced and haven't disposed of yet. But I will. Glass jars from imported olives that get recycled, yes, but tossed out, nonetheless. The characters in these books would kill for that glass jar.

This line of thinking always leads me down to considering the past -- just 150 years ago we didn't have indoor plumbing. Or bananas. Whoa! We're truly living in an age of plenty.

Don't worry. This over-blown gratefulness of the world around me doesn't last long. I pick up a book about wealthy aristocrats, or turn on "Downton Abbey," and my world view does a 180. Where is my damn butler, for pete's sake!