Singing Salesmen

“America... just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.” Hunter S. Thompson

“In 2004, a national survey found that about one out of 18 college freshmen expected to make a living as an actor, musician, or artist.” http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/print/201003/jobless-america-future

While I’ve always enjoyed the writings of the good doctor, I do think that his characterization could use a polishing for the times, more so than changed “used” to “pre-owned.”

We have always been a nation of dreamers. We rewrote the book on self-governance, saw endless, untamed lands pregnant with possibility , and rebuilt a crumbling world in our image.

The difference between our past and now is the decrease over time in the work necessary to produce things, rather than simply conjure them up in our minds so that we may sit back, content with ourselves and our supreme wisdom.

We simply don’t want to work, make sacrifices, or deal with bitter truths. We all want to win the lottery and while doing that literally would really be “the dream,” the next closest option would be to become as famous as possible in the shortest amount of time.

We are a nation of failed American Idol contestants, desperate for adoration and recognition, but lacking either the talent to excel or the creativity to develop new art, or both.

While I don’t watch the show (the style of music is too…boring for me) but its undeniable how many Americans do. We love the story of the underdog fighting his/her way to the top and conquering the entertainment world. And considering how fickle we are (is anyone actually excited for the next David Cook record?), it is truly amazing how many suckers want to be the character in that story.

About 100,000 people audition for American idol each season. That means that there were easily 99,000+ people who had no right whatsoever to get a part in a regional performance of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, let alone be the next iconic American performer.

People there as a joke, on a prank, and any other cop-outs aside, it is clear that way too many Americans have zoned out in their math and science classes and convinced themselves that they need to invest their time, energy, and attention in becoming the next Britney Spears, obviously without any sense of irony or foreboding.

Our national obsession with money and fame have lead to the creation of celebrities who are famous only for having money and getting their faces out there, creating an odd snowball effect leading to a complete take-over of the grocery store’s magazine rack without anyone asking why we should bother to care about these people in the first place. And these are our role-models, the lives we wish to emulate!

And as the ranks of the jobless rise and the future looking less than bright, we only dream more and dream harder, grasping for some acknowledgement of our self-obsession as a justified means to the ends we see on TV and think we understand.

No longer used-car salesmen, we are selling ourselves; a nation of those who want their names known flooding into a faceless sea of singing salesmen, confident in our wares, only nobody is buying.