You don't exist. You may never, as your dad and I are very content newlyweds, happier planning trips to India, deciphering what kind of toilet porcelain feels better on our butts, and dreaming up insanely funny sketches. Underneath all that spontaneity, however, are two people that crave stability, predictability, and a quiet night's sleep - unfettered by poopy diapers or little grumbling bellies. So you see, there is a good chance that you may never come into being.
But in case you do, I know you would be angry as hell at your parents for not documenting what is arguably the most significant historical event of their generation. You would accuse your parents of depriving you of "the meta-narrative that typifies The MySpace Generation" - or whatever two-dimensional label the pundits decide to stick on us in ten year's time - and then sulk and play Guitar Hero* or something.
So here goes.
Kid, by the time you read this, you will hopefully have learned that $8 is how much we pay you to mow the lawn (inflation adjusted, of course), $800 is monthly rent for a rat-infested studio in the worst part of Miami Beach, and $8,000 is about 1/13 of the top prize money on "Survivor." Now, close your eyes and imagine $8 multiplied many, many times over. Keep on going until you reach $800 billion. Mom can't tell you how many zeros this takes. She's the only Asian person in this world who is bad at math. Anyhow, just trust me when I say this. $800 billion is something that middle-class taxpayers like your mom and dad can't afford. And we are sorry to have stuck you with this debt, even before you were born. So, lesson #1: If you hear anyone talk about free markets as the solution to all of society's problems, feel free to punch them in the face. Mom and dad give you permission.
Also, you might find some weird anomalies in our family photos, like dad squinting into the sun without an over sized visor on, or mom actually walking barefoot on what looks like...sand! That isn't trick photography. In our day, there were still vast, blue oceans, majestic redwood forests, imposing glaciers, and the sweet smell of wet earth after the rain. Your dad and I are happiest when we're out in the open, wordless, at one with Nature. We want you to share in the wonder of our beautiful earth too. So, we walk whenever we can, and try not to buy stuff that we don't need. Dad even drives a hybrid. But our efforts may be too little, too late .You may now be suffering from melanoma, empheseyma, and and lingering cataracts. Lesson #2: Any politician who says "Drill, Baby, Drill," doesn't think that global warming is man made, and disregards the advice of climatologists and environmental scientists, is not only irresponsible and selfish, but a complete friggin' whack job to boot.
"How did this happen?" you may ask. "Why are we here?"
The long answer is, a Connecticut-blueblood-turned fake-Texas-cowboy stole the election on November 8th, 2000, thereby sticking your parents, and all their loved ones, with 8 horrifying years of right-wing demagoguery. The short answer is, Kid, we just weren't listening. And because we didn't listen, we didn't see how a select elitist few were stealing away the country that we love, right before our very eyes.
During Bush's 8 year tenure, you dad and I would read the daily newspapers, and feel alternately helpless and furious. Guantanamo Bay, the erosion of women's right to choose, unfettered cronyism, Intelligent Design, reduced stem-cell research funding, middle-class tax hikes. And two senseless, bloody, ill-conceived wars. The degree to which our country has become spiritually ravaged, while driven further and further apart by wedge politics, is something that we haven't begun to comprehend yet. When Bush vetoed the water boarding ban in March of this year, citing torture as "one of the most important tools on the war on terror," good Americans everywhere realized that we had indeed destroyed our moral standing in the eyes of the international community.
But kid, if there is one thing that you should know about our country - it is this: our burning desire for progress and self-invention may be temporarily stifled, but never snuffed out. In a rag tag nation of WASP country clubbers and Chinese busboys, of beleaguered Hatian mothers and Irish union members - dissent is not only expected, it is mandatory. Your mom was born and raised in a country where a free press was unheard of, where people were terrified of speaking out against the government. When she emigrated to the United States, the liberty was intoxicating. The notion of each individual's inalienable right to speak, read, and think of her own accord was at once simple, yet incredibly profound.
This uniquely American covenant is predicated on trust. Trust that each person seeks truth. Trust in the citizenry to intelligently weigh the needs of the individual versus the community, and trust in the fair, and even-handed application of laws. This trust has been besieged and eroded by the Bush administration. But not eradicated. Never.
In October of 2008, your mom and dad joined millions of Americans throughout the United States to vote early for Obama. We didn't mind the wait, the hot sun, or the long lines. We knew, deep in our bones, that this historic turnout was to be expected for a historic Presidential candidate. Where McCain trotted out more of the same GOP-patented fear, hate, and vitriol, Obama offered answers, healing, and unity. When an increasingly inter-connected global community demanded sophisticated solutions to complex problems, McCain offered anger and flippancy, Obama, reason and dialogue.
In just 2 days, a new leader of the free world will be unveiled. Your mom and dad plan to ring in this joyous, historic occasion with their friends, mom yelling not-so-niceties at the red states on TV, while dad mocks Sarah "Mooseburger" Palin incessantly.
As with everything else, November 4th will come and go. The passage of time and history may yet judge our candidate and his policies unfavorably. But whatever happens, know that your mom and dad were part of a great national dialogue, a respite from the hate, a moment larger than themselves. A coordinated, national effort between black and white, between young and old, between the haves and the have-nots, to put aside our differences, and stand together as one.
And that, kid, is what it means to be an American.
Love,
Mom
ps. Dad wants to note for the record that at this time, we are really into "The Wire" and "MadMen."
psII. Um, you're not going to turn into Michael J. Fox's necktie-wearing, Reagan-loving character on "Family Ties", right?
*Guitar Hero: Caveman-like video game that simulates guitar playing with an accompanying glam-metal score, usually Aerosmith or Guns N' Roses.
