Normally, I don’t side with Al-Qaeda. You probably don’t either. They are an evil group with an evil worldview. They believe that America is the Great Satan, for crying out loud. We aren’t perfect, but c’mon, that’s hitting below the belt. But on at least one topic, they may have a point. Let me explain.
One of the accusations is that we live lives of decadence. Compared to the typical Al-Qaedan, the Wilder’s from Little House On The Prairie lived extravagantly. And don’t you love the idea that I’d know how a typical Al-Qaedan lives? Or that there even is a typical Al-Qaedan? Certainly, we are awash in excess. Not sure the percentages, but I’d posit that the majority of that which we buy is stuff that we didn’t know we needed until very recently. And “needed” is really stretching it. Anyone remember the Hammacher Schlemmer catalog? It’s still around. Originally started as a hardware store specializing in hard-to-find tools, it has morphed into a retailer of stuff we didn’t know we needed at prices we didn’t know we could afford. Without searching their products for more than a few seconds, I found a “Wearable Anxiety Reducer”. It looks like a dog whistle, and is probably more useless. And for $59.95, you too can have one. Paradoxically, spending 60 bucks for what I deem to be a wearable version of a bottle of snake oil would make me anxious. It looks as though it controls your breathing. And by control, I think it makes you hyperventilate, which makes you dizzy to the point of passing out. Come to think of it, I can’t imagine being more relaxed than being unconscious. Okay, Hammacher Schlemmer, I’ll give you that one.
I recently heard an ad for birthday cake flavored Milk Bones (pictured above, lest you think I’m kidding). I’ve met a few dogs in my life. Not a one was wistfully hoping for the day when the fine folks at Milk Bone would get around to flavoring dog biscuits like human desserts. We’ve all heard the stories about dogs eating things that would turn the stomachs of all but the most gastrointestinally durable amongst us. When I was a kid, we had a part dachshund, part whatever jumped the fence mixed puppy that ate a half a sample box of Biz laundry detergent. He was pretty sick, evidenced by the green and white puke by the door and the same colored “leaving” in the back yard. I can’t imagine how awful that must have tasted. Methinks the average canine would delight as much in dirty sock or decayed armadillo flavored Milk Bones as one that tastes like red velvet cake.
Seems to me that we could learn a lot about contentedness from dogs. To them, anything beyond a timely bowl of kibble, a walk around the block, a scratch behind the ears, and a place in the sun to sleep is a bonus. An attitude of gratitude for what we have, even in lack or trial, goes a long way to reducing stress and making our hearts happy (Phil. 4:6-7). Understanding the transcendent, good gifts of God will necessarily satisfy us. And if we have legitimate needs, we simply need to ask our Father in heaven to provide that which He wants us to have (Matt. 6:33). And if we want to spoil ourselves, or our dogs, Milk Bone has just the thing.