To many of you the sixties are nothing more than legend. I often wonder how history books in schools these days handle them. To some of us the sixties were very real and have provided a lifetime of memories. From three tragic assassinations to significant advancements in civil rights. From the Gulf of Tonkin to the Sea of Tranquility. From the Donna Reed Show to the pot and mud of Woodstock. From Les Paul and Mary Ford to Jimi Hendricks and Janis Joplin.

The sixties were an easy to measure decade that brought about major changes in the group think of the United States as a culture. Eventually the “don’t trust anyone over thirty” generation had children of their own and, although I am starting to feel ancient right about now, those children had children.

What’s lacking in these children of the children of the children is a defining moment that can account for where we now find ourselves as a society, as a culture. When did responsibility and accountability become old hat? When did we begin to accept that nobody did nothin’? When did the open minded concept of everybody being in charge dwindle to the reality that nobody is in charge?

What decade, or half decade, or glaring event can we examine and, within that examination, deduce with a modicum of certainty that it was then that we collapsed into this maelstrom of mediocrity?

It’s everywhere. We all encounter it everyday and we grin and bear it. Maybe we have brought it upon ourselves, this insidious growth of mediocrity. Maybe we have looked the other way for so many decades that looking the other way has become the way.

Driving through the Taco Bell we give them real money and twenty feet later accept, in exchange, a mystery bag. In our hearts we know it’s a mystery bag but we don’t want to hold up the line so we drive away.

Holding up the drive through line these days could get you beat up or shot. Yelled at and honking horns would be the minimum reaction. Suffice it to say that holding up the line, any line, will induce a response of intolerance.

A mile down the road we pull the enchilada out of the bag. We wanted a chalupa but we grumble a bit and say something like “it figures” or “I’m not surprised”. It isn’t worth the hassle to go back and, in the end, we grin and bear it and eat the whole enchilada, literally and figuratively.

From the ridiculous to the sublime as we visit the doctor. We are expected to arrive fifteen minutes before an appointment that was already scheduled fifteen minutes ahead of the time we are actually to see the doctor.

We sit and seethe and flip through magazines because everybody in the room is sitting and seething and flipping through magazines. We put on the face of nonchalance and grin and bear it.

When our time with the doctor comes it usually defies the definition of brevity. A wink, a nod and a handshake. Our problem is beyond them but they know a specialist... . We thank them and they leave through the not yet closed door they came in. MD, mediocre doctor.

Sports figures shove their mediocrity down our throats as well. A baseball player hits a home run and trots (say struts) around the base paths pounding his chest, blowing kisses, making the sign of the cross and pointing to the sky where some relative now lives. Look at me, I’m a hero because I am, well, doing my job and at that, only rarely.

Give me the damn ball! I scored a touchdown and want to dance and celebrate and hoot and holler. More blown kisses, more celestial relatives. I know I’m just doing my job but, hey, sometimes I do a little more. I’m paid to be on the team. Anything else is a bonus. As a matter of fact, I’m not paid to be on this team, I’m paid to not be on some other team.

The service industry has become extinct. What service do you receive without a hand stuck out at you? The valet at the hotel will park your car for you but he/she has expectations of you. The bellman will help you with your luggage to the front desk but, uh.

Another bellman will help you with your luggage to your room if you will, uh. Another worker will even bring over priced room service to your door for an additional charge which, in case you forget, is usually added anyway even though the service is predictably, well dare I say, mediocre?

Ever take a cruise? All the amenities are happily provided and you are not expected to extend any gratis for them; until the last night. At the big hoopla, envelopes are passed out and the accumulative gratis is inferred. How naive I was. I was impressed they were actually going the extra mile.

I thought they were employees rising above the mediocrity. I thought my heartfelt thanks were appreciated. How unbelievably naive. They were banking nice. If you plan on taking a cruise save a chunk of loot for the last night. Don’t blow the last of your wad in Cozumel or you will schlep your bags in Ft. Lauderdale.

How did we get here? How, or what, has happened that we as a culture accept just getting by as the norm? On my honor I will do my best to do my job, and nothing more. Is it nothing more than the cumulative effects of a generation of underachievers? Maybe it’s just me.

There’s an extremely remote chance that you have yet to be touched by any salient point of mediocrity. If that’s your situation be patient. Elections are less than a month away.