Limits to Freedom

Dearest Rachel –

Back in the day, you remember that I used to read articles from my newsfeed out loud to you, partly in order to practice reading scripts for the day when I brought my channel online, and partly because I simply agreed with (or at least was amused by) the writer’s perspective, and thought you might agree, or be willing to debate about, the topic at hand. These days, of course, I don’t bother to do so; you wouldn’t be likely to hear me, and in any event, there’s no need to repeat something that already exists on the internet somewhere else.

As much as we might have enjoyed bantering back and forth about politics (which was at the core of most of these articles), it seems unimportant to include in these letters anymore. Not only does it somehow seem utterly insignificant, the affairs and disputes on this little blue dust speck, in light of the eternity you now call home, but it also feels less than safe to expound upon a topic where, if I take one side or another in the middle of a public square like this, I run the risk of infuriating half the world.

It’s an unfortunate observation to have to make, on a day like this of all days. But the fact of the matter is, that for all that we’re celebrating freedom today, that concept has its limits that we’re forced to abide by.

Now, most of them aren’t written down, or at least, not codified into law. For example, take my self-imposed restrictions on political speech to you here (at least, I try to hew to it; it’s hard to completely avoid in this day and age where everything seems to have political implications). Now, for all intents and purposes, I have the right to say whatever I want to, whenever I please, without fear of legal repercussions. However, there are social consequences to everything everyone says, and so, I have to be careful.

By the way, you can probably tell from the photo that I’m outside; I can do what I want with the time I’m given, but the festival across town ends today, so if I want to see it (or at least, check it out), I have to get out of the house, today. At least I can go at my own time, and my own pace… although by the time I’d walked as far as Daniel’s middle school, I decided to take the shuttle the rest of the way.

The fence aside, much of the festival layout is otherwise familiar. The place is still lacking in small-business vendors’ booths, but there are a few corporate sponsors making their presence known, like IKEA and one of those bathroom remodeling companies (although, like Bill Engvall says, who lays out money for something like that at a carnival on a whim?). There are about a dozen of the usual rattletrap carnival rides, too, but…

And of course, there’s the food, symbolizing one of the great things about America; the freedom of choice – even if it can be a little intimidating. What to select?

And, not to trivialize the price paid by those brave folk who won our independence from Britain lo these many years back, but this particular freedom isn’t exactly cheap, either. Between the nachos (yes, that’s what the BBQ place called them) and the funnel cake, I think I spent more on today’s lunch than I did on the steak and cake I had a couple weeks ago on my last date. At least I’ll be walking most of those calories off on my way back from here – even if I’m only walking from the middle school – since, while I’m free to choose how I get here, I’m stuck taking the same method back.

Well, that’s what happens when you choose something; you have to stick with it after a certain point. Anyway, keep an eye on me as I make my way back, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.