I kind of blame our world situation and wonder how prevalent this is among most of modern society.
I get in my little time/space machine, in my sandals and short sleeve shirt (it was 20 degrees out this morning) and cruise 36 miles to work. I put my shoulder to the wheel of some ever changing high technology work, fingers on the keyboard, face in a monitor sitting in my cubical with no windows near. Typically a stressful 10+ hour day and get back in my time/space machine for the commute home. Home time I'm drawn between hobbies, games, work needed around the home, reading, try and find some relaxation and do it all again.
Even now as an empty nestor my life is so consumed with simply doing what I've deemed as needful to maintain my life style, there just is nothing left for much outside my tiny bubble.
Stop and smell the roses? Hell I have mortgages, taxes, utilities, medical expenses, food and clothing to provide for there is no time for that nonsense.
Years ago I lived in Moab, actually in a tent in Castle Valley when I was not on the river. We used to refer to SLC as crappy City ... where one was caught up with nothing but the rat race.
And that was 40 years ago.
God I miss those daysFather forgive them for they know not what they do.
While I was out a ridin'
The grave yard shift, midnight 'til dawn
The moon was as bright as a readin' light
For a letter from an old friend back home
And he asked me
Why do you ride for your money
Tell me why do you rope for short pay
You ain't a'gettin' nowhere
And you're losin' your share
Boy, you must have gone crazy out there
He said last night I ran on to Jenny
She's married and has a good life
And boy you sure missed the track
When you never come back
She's the perfect professional's wife
And she asked me
Why does he ride for his money
And tell me why does he rope for short pay
He ain't a'gettin' nowhere
And he's losin' his share
Boy he must've gone crazy out there
Ah but they've never seen the Northern Lights
They've never seen a hawk on the wing
They've never seen the Spring hit the Great Divide
And they've never heard ole' camp cookie sing
Well I read up the last of my letter
And I tore off the stamp for black Jim
And when Billy rode up to relieve me
He just looked at my letter and grinned
He said now
Why do they ride for their money
Tell me why do they ride for short pay
They ain't a'gettin' nowhere
And they're losin' their share
Boy, they must have gone crazy out there
Son, they all must be crazy out there