I want to yell at the screen. “Wake up! Wipe that silly grin off your face Edwin.” If only I could rip the watch off my arm and shove it in his face. “Don’t you know what time it is? It’s Nazi time! You’re oblivious to what is going on under your nose.” The little boy who got his picture taken at the park, in nine years, will be at the River Plate on the Graf Spee. The world as they know it will end. But they can’t hear me, so drink up; lounge by the lake, sleep the day away.
I can’t blame them really. They just came off of a great inflation upheaval where they learned to spend their money as soon as they earned it; in case it wasn’t worth much later. They were conditioned to live in the moment because of the unsure future. With all the political turmoil, escapism must have looked pretty good.
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