Addictions – You Have Them. Now Laugh At Them.

“His breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever tasted.” – Fight Club

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Every day is the wrong day to give up Wilder.

It was the first day of third grade.  I was new to the class, and was nervous.  As I walked through the rows of desks, I felt very shy, apprehensive.  One third grader approached me.  He pointed at a girl sitting in the desk next to his.

“That’s my girlfriend.”

So many emotions.  There was a fierce determination, an aggression in his eyes.  I felt threatened, and I’ll admit, I panicked.  I balled up my fist and hit him.

The rest was a whirlwind.  I can’t remember anything after that until I looked at the face of the school nurse, who stared back at me with a shocked expression on her face.

“What did you do?  His jaw is broken!”

I guess I’ll never teach at that school again.

Okay.  That never happened, except on 4chan.

But I was involved with an elite paramilitary organization mentioned in Red Dawn where we went camping on a regular basis.  One rule of the Troop was that no cell phones went on the trip – in a tent full of boys there is NOTHING GOOD that happens with a cell phone on a campout.  So we left them home.

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Pictured working on their merit badge in Escape and Evasion.

Little kids didn’t care.  But eighth graders?  Cell phones had become a part of their lives.  I saw one particular scout become despondent for a whole campout, all from missing the connections he normally got from his phone.

He was addicted to it.  After a day, he was better.  But he was also very happy to get back to his phone.

There are many things in life that we can become addicted to.  There are the obvious ones that everyone thinks about when they use the term:  Alcohol.  Drugs.  Gambling.  Tobacco.  PEZ®.

The prime addiction from the Boy Scout’s phone was social media.  Much has been written about social media and its addictive effects.  All of social media is designed to be addictive and features are tested on a regular basis to make sure that it engages us, that it maximizes user interaction.  That maximizing user action breeds addiction.  But how it is addictive isn’t the point – the fact that it is as addictive as Mel Gibson movies is.

So, what do I mean by addiction?  Everyone thinks of a junkie shooting marijuana in his eye, but that’s overly simplistic, not to mention probably not what junkies do.  By addiction, I have a broader definition:  the psychological need for a substance of set of conditions that aren’t required for life.

You’re not really addicted to oxygen.  It’s required.  The Mrs. is a type one diabetic, which means that without insulin injections, she will die.  I used to kid with her, “Honey, when are you gonna realize it’s a problem?  You’ve got to kick that stuff.  Just say no.”

While I thought it was clever, The Mrs. was less than amused.  So I punched her and broke her jaw.

Again, I kid – The Mrs. has reflexes like a cat.  She also has a deceptively low center of gravity – very hard to push over.  But are there things that are beyond what we normally think about when we think about addiction?

Certainly.

How about . . . air conditioning.  I lived in Houston, and it was easily the most awful climatological experience in my life.  It was heat plus humidity – and when the wind hit you, it felt like the devil was breathing on me.  Plus I wilt like lettuce in the heat.

Having moved to Houston from Alaska, we paid roughly $422,721 a month in bills for electricity to cool our house.  Was it required?  Well, probably not.  People live, have lived, and do live in places much hotter than Houston without air conditioning.  I have no idea what kind of people, but people.

Dare I say it?  We were addicted to air conditioning.  We could have kept the house far hotter, and saved roughly the total cost of an aircraft carrier plus escort vessels during the two years we were there, but not enough to also get the extended warranty, which is really overrated with aircraft carriers.

Likewise, when we moved to Fairbanks, Alaska, we kept the house about 55-60°F (239°C) in winter when we moved there.  Since Alaskans build without regards to things like, oh, building codes, our home inspection found substantial work that needed to be done to prevent our garage from collapsing.  Really.  The seller had a local contractor doing the work after we had moved in.

“Where you folks from?”

We told him.

“No wonder you keep the house so hot.”  Yes.  He considered 55-60°F hot.

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Including the hat.  Our contractor looked exactly like Red Green.  I learned later that Fairbanks hosted a summer event called the Red Green River Regatta, sadly now discontinued.

So, in his eyes, we were addicted to hot homes.

But let’s swap to food:

What today is considered the bare minimum level for life today is, in reality, a greater degree of luxury than we’ve seen in nearly the entire history of mankind for a greater number of people.  Ever.  Are there crappy places to live?  Yes.  But the scene of the “refugee” in Tijuana saying that the beans and tortillas given to her by local people trying to provide help to her was “food for pigs” and that she might starve to death.

Given her size, that might take, oh, a decade or so.  The bad news is that she’s been deported from the United States and is, “very thankful to be back in Honduras.”  It’s sad – we really need more people who will assault other people with deadly weapons like Frijoles Lady did.  She’ll do the attempted murders Americans won’t.

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I guess she’s a lot like that alien, E.T.  She finally went home.

But the fact remains – we have people going across international borders because of . . . comfort.

What was it like in the past?

I did some research for a post once, and tried to figure out what medieval French peasants (called villeins, which translates from metric French to “Dave”) did in the wintertime in the year 1315.  The links that I was able to find described them as living in their mom’s basement eating pizza rolls and playing Red Dead Redemption 2 on Playstation®.  Just kidding!  The winter as a time of great poverty, and the families would essentially huddle under blankets in bed most of the winter to reduce food consumption, conserve warmth, and not die.

When you view today’s world through medieval eyes, nearly every person in the world has better winters than that, at least outside of the Democratic People’s Republics of Korea and California.  The example of the French also shows that we’re addicted to eating regularly.

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Fasting was easy in the U.S.S.R.  Comrade Stalin was concerned about your health.

No.  You don’t need breakfast.  You don’t really need lunch.  The fact is, unless they have an unusual medical condition, lots of people voluntarily go for days without food with zero negative health consequences outside of a slightly looser waistband.  And the desire to tell everyone about it.

Are people who are fasting hungry?  Absolutely.  Is there a payoff?  Yes.  From personal experience, the first food you eat after four days without eating anything will be the best burger you had all year.

But the bigger point is this:  we live in a world of unparalleled luxury.

  • In the United States, we have the distinction of having our poorest people having access to so many calories that there seems to be a correlation (in some studies) that shows that poorer people are fatter. Whereas those French peasants had all the time in the world, and none of the food, poor in the United States have all of the time, and all of the food.  And Playstations®.
  • Virtually no one freezes to death, or dies from the heat. In fact, Pugsley sometimes walks around in workout shorts and a t-shirt (no socks!) and complain that the house is too cold.  He does this in winter and summer.  We keep our house ludicrously cold, like our hearts.
  • Most movies made in the last 40 years are available to you after a quick Internet search and a nominal fee. Nearly every book, ever (that we still have copies of), can be had instantly electronically.  Those in paper?  Might take two days.  I have a lot of books, and they’re everywhere around the house.  I guess you could say I have no shelf control.

I won’t say these things are dangerous luxuries.  But they are luxuries, luxuries that we often take for granted.  How long has it been since your power has been out?  How long since you huddled in a cold tent on a freezing winter’s night or sweating on a hot day with an endless noon Sun?

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But it’s okay, his butler will go get it.

How long since you went a single day without food?  How long since you went two days without it?

Our ancestors did all of these things, and more.  They called it “Tuesday.”  Well, not “Tuesday” since their language was a series of unintelligible grunts that sounded like tubas played by jabbering twits.

When we become addicted to and accustomed to luxury, it weakens us.  Constant luxury may weaken us physically, but addiction to it weakens us mentally.  Mental weakness screams that when we’re in a cold or dark house that it’s intolerable, even if it’s only mildly uncomfortable.

When we can meet adversity and understand that what won’t kill us, that being away from the Twitter®, Instagram™, and Facebook© might actually be good for us, and that sweating all day in a hot house without air conditioning is just tolerable discomfort?

Then we win.

Author: John

Nobel-Prize Winning, MacArthur Genius Grant Near Recipient writing to you regularly about Fitness, Wealth, and Wisdom - How to be happy and how to be healthy. Oh, and rich.

17 thoughts on “Addictions – You Have Them. Now Laugh At Them.”

  1. When the US Army first moved into Kosovo back in 1999, they forgot to order little things like food. And water. Water was strictly rationed to 3 liters (2 imperial tablespoons) per person per day. And you were still expected to shave.

  2. My parents emigrated from communist Poland to the States in the early 70’s. Thank you Mom and Dad. I want to say ’72. I was born in ’74. Thanks again Mom and Dad. This article reminded me about growing up and how we did things a little different. But not that much. Poles tend to assimilate quickly to American culture. Now that doesn’t mean we don’t have our things. We do. One of those things that we did but don’t anymore is using a pierzyna (pa – xin – a ) a goose down comforter. Basically it was a big fluffy pillow the size of your bed. Let me tell you what. I don’t care how cold it was, sleeping under one of those bad boys was coziest and warm I can ever remember. You literally had to stick you leg out to cool down or you would cook to death in your sleep. Its funny to think back on my youth, we weren’t rich. Far from it. We struggled and sacrificed. The funny part is…we were happy.

    1. Exactly! How much additional happiness does the stuff really buy us? I’m thinking a lot less than you might expect . . . .

  3. Nomophobia. The word of the day is nomophobia. “The term is an abbreviation for “no-mobile-phone phobia,” which was coined during a 2010 study by the UK Post Office.”

    From 2014:

    https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/artificial-maturity/201409/nomophobia-rising-trend-in-students

    In 2020:

    https://techjury.net/stats-about/smartphone-addiction/#gref

    What the CIA / NSA / Facebook / Google, er, Wikipedia is willing to let you know about the topic….

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nomophobia

  4. Remember ‘Lent’? That glorious period between Ash Wednesday and Easter eve when we good Catholics (as well as good Catholic wannabes) voluntarily give up something we enjoy to show our faith and love for our creator?

    Naw, neither do I. But I’ve heard of it. Despite its 40 day duration, its a whole lot less painful, and in some cases shorter, than spending time in a confessional admitting to and then repenting for the litany of evils we’ve perpetrated since our last mea culpa. Ten Hail Marys and a handful of Our Fathers later one was washed clean of his sins and could then turn his attention to sinning anew.

    I admitted to blaspheming often enough, using the collection plate as my personal swear jar, but I never told Father Goldberg about my weakness for intoxicants (or about the bodies buried in the yard, but that’s another matter). Which begs the question, is addiction a sin?

    I posit ‘No’. Not merely to absolve myself of responsibility for what I may or may not have done while under the influence (reference those bodies in the yard) but because our lives of luxury in the modern world are so fraught with temptation that even the most pious among us likely hosts a Clinton-load of skeletons in the closet.

    I have no social media presence, so I can’t speak to the level of dependency that leads people of all ages and backgrounds to walk into traffic under its spell, and threatens more relationships than active infidelity. But just like rhesus monkeys in a lab offered unlimited cocaine in lieu of food, sleep or sex, far too many today insist that you can have their Facebook and Twitter accounts when you pry them from their cold, dead, virtual hands.

    Not sure where this comment was going, so I will simply end it here by stating that if one MUST indulge a compulsion, one could certainly do worse than reading the blogs of John Wilder, and Arthur Sido, and Le Raconteur on a routine basis. Its how I get my fix.

  5. When you are hungry, even cabbage is food. It is also a Brillo pad for your large intestine.

    Fry up some bacon, mix in thinly sliced cabbage and fry until cabbage is soft. You don’t even have to be hungry for that to be delicious.

    My grandmother once confided that she and her siblings used to fight to get “the heart of the cabbage” when their mother was cutting a cabbage as she prepared it for dinner. That is, the inside of the stem. Kids were always hungry and only ate at dinner time. ANYTHING between meals was a special treat.

    1. I heard a few family stories from the Depression – and Grandma McWilder was great at cooking tasty food out of nearly nothing.

  6. As a denizen of Central Texas, you’ll get my air conditioning when hell freezes over.

    1. Florida, and the Alabama end at that. Same opinion, TwoDogs.

      Having said that, a number of years ago, one of the hurricanes left us without power for about 4 days, I think, maybe 5. I didn’t let it bother me. But at the end of day three the wife and the two boys still at home were sitting in the living room whining, whining, I tell you, about how hot it is. They slept in the living room where the most windows were. I made fun of them, and went to sleep in the bed.

      The bacon and cabbage is excellent. Cornbread to go with it is pretty close to heaven.

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