I had a friend who always used to say that what Americans really want isn’t freedom OF choice but freedom FROM choice.
He wasn’t talking about abortion.
And I think he was right. A trip down any major grocery store aisle confirms this. Stendahl syndrome brought on by dishsoap. Aside from the obvious point that their guacamole products are abundant and delectable, this is why Trader Joe’s is so successful; they carry one version – one excellent version – of each product. No choice. You want extra virgin olive oil, there’s one bottle of extra virgin olive oil. There’s enough drama in our daily lives without introducing tension into the olive oil selection process. On this I believe most of us can agree.
I push hard for maintaining traditions in our family, sometimes even when it seems silly or merely ritualistic. We are not of the religious persuasion, but we are of the How It’s Always Been persuasion. The 4th of July is a big holiday for us, and we are lucky in that the spouse and I grew up three blocks apart and spent the holiday in pretty much identical ways; there is no dispute about what goes down on Independence Day, no debate about which side of the family we have to spend it with, no question about “who does it right.” We are freed from the choice of how to spend the day and the ritual, the tradition, is a comfort, not to mention a delight.
There is something indescribable, and I can write that with some authority having just spent a good fifteen minutes sitting here trying to think of how the hell to describe it, about watching our children – one who looks like him and one who looks like me – riding in the bicycle races we once rode in on the same streets with the children of the people we rode with and watching the nieces and nephews and daughters and sons of our friends who were volunteer firefighters in high school, now themselves wearing the gear and lifting our kids on to the fire engines for the rides around town and handing out the free popsicles afterwards. My heart was full to bursting last night at the barbecue we attended at the home of friends who also grew up here WITH more friends who also grew up here…you see how it is, we can’t seem to leave, or we just keep coming back.
I am lucky that the place I am from affords me the luxury of a broad sweep of opportunities and people with which and whom to engage myself with, I know this, and I yesterday I felt the greater luxury of having to not make any choice about that.









