Picket Fence

Shortly after WWII, many people chased what is now known (and marketed as) the “American Dream”. At that time, it was seen as the ultimate life to have a white picket fence, car in the driveway and modern kitchen appliances with shiny silver handles. Behind the picket fence was a manicured lawn, expertly trimmed by a gas-powered Craftsman lawn mower.

For many, this dream came with a price tag they could afford – and the people were happy…or so it seemed.

Throughout the decades, this dream has come in many shapes and sizes; happiness, attainable if only you followed the advertisements you saw on your living room television; constructed by advertising agencies fueld by big bucks from large corporations.

While it’s taken many twists, turns and iterations, the ‘American Dream’ came with fine print that many people failed to read when they put their name on the dotted line at the bank with a heavy Parker ballpoint pen. No sooner had the ink dried and the happy family was given shiny keys to their picket fence house and family-size Chevrolet did a startling new reality set in.

See, on the advertisements for Maytag appliances and Craftsman tool sets, the ‘users’ were all smiling happy individuals; delighted to use their shiny new appliances or parade their family around on a Sunday cruse in the Chevy. The lawn mower was bright red and didn’t have a smudge of dirt on it as it plowed through even the highest blades of grass with newfound ease.

To the individual seeing the advertisements, the American Dream looked like a perfectly slicked-back pompadour haircut served by a fresh-faced soda jerk behind the counter at their local apothecary drugstore. It smelled like freshly-baked meatloaf and mashed potatoes while appearing equally as filling.

It’s been nearly a century since this American dream was peddled to the masses, and yet very few people have ever stopped to read the ‘fine print’ of the perfectly-manicured lawn.

What was this ‘price tag’ I’m referring to? The dishes. The lawn. The joy of cleaning a coffee cleaner after the pot of cofffee gets cold. Washing the floors, folding laundry and scrubbing oil off the driveway in the white picket fence house.

None of these things felt as shiny and wonderful as advertising paints them to be. Even a brand new Maytag washing machine still comes with the price tag of needing to fold the freshly-cleaned batch of hot clothes that were dried by a washing machine rather than a clothesline.

For a lot of individuals, including myself, there’s a miniature ‘midlife crisis’ that occurs when you realize you’re living the ‘American dream’ and face the seemingly overwhelming task list required to keep and maintain the ‘perfect’ life you’ve signed up for.

Today was a healthy reminder that all things come with a price tag that you have to stomach. Just like the new car will eventually need to have its’ suspension replaced, every element of having a home comes with its share of maintenance; and it’s not just limited to the need to wash the floors or scrape poop off of your toilet.

People, too, come with their share of fine print. Not everybody (including myself) is as wonderful or delightful as they like to present themselves on the ‘advertisement’ others see. I’ve never met an individual that isn’t prone to having a mood swing, outburst of anger, day/night where they cried from exhaustion or snapped sharply at a loved one.

As I write this, I reflect back on the pleasant moments with my parents. However, I’m also reminded of the moments where I saw my Dad get upset because he simply had enough one day and hammered his fist down on the dinner table.

Did that make my Dad a bad man, or Dad? No, it didn’t. Rather, it made him a human one.

This morning during bible study, I offered my share of reflections on the Psalms, noting that David often wrote from high’s and low’s that read with the markings of somebody who would likely be diagnosed with bipolar disorder; one passage writes about the beauty and wonder of God, while another writes about his plight, agony and need to be rescued from his self-proclaimed existance as litte more than a worm.

I coudn’t help but wonder if David’s experiences fighting a lion and bear at a young age (or Goliath) could have contributed to any sense of PTSD that would later scream at his mental health…

For those who have bought the ‘American Dream’ I think it’s important to remember all of the fine print that comes along with it. Needing to care for a house doesn’t take away from the value it provides, any more than navigating the mood swing of a romantic partner (or yourself) makes you less of a person.

In so many ways, there’s a great deal of virtue to be found in the day-to-day responsibilities of life. Similarly, I think there’s a great deal of value in remembering that every human is prone to good days, bad days, sexy nights, crying fits, moments of fear, anxiety, pain and heartbreak between the smiles, laughter and hugs.

I’ve said before that it’s easy to fall in love. However, it’s the moments when you walk in on your partner taking a smelly dump that you truly solidify the love you have, just as you truly fall in love with your home when you get the hang of taking care of it.

The ‘fine print’ of life doesn’t mean that people were taken advantage of or sold a false bill of goods. Rather, it’s the thing tha truly makes a rich life worth living.

As I always tell Atlas:

“If you want nice things, you have to take care of them.”

Even if it means getting your loved one another roll of toilet paper.