Cornered

As I write these words, 22 U.S. banks have failed so far this year.

What is the magnitude of this? Consider that over the previous three years, 2005-'7, the total of bank failures in our country was...three.

Wow. And this accounting of unprecedented institutional carnage does not include banks that the Bush administration has deemed too big to fail, and therefore qualified for its TARP "bailout" funds to keep them afloat, at least for now. These include, most recently, CitiBank, until an eye blink ago the biggest bank on the planet.

As this is the beginning of the holiday season, many Americans will no doubt watch "It's a Wonderful Life," Frank Kapra's 1946 classic film starring James Stewart, Donna Reed, and Lionel Barrymore.

This film's premise is that the American Dream requires a decent, ordinary guy to sacrifice all of his own dreams to save his community. Even then, he fails, and sinks into the depths of a suicidal depression. His salvation comes through the grace of an angel, who forces him to confront what a world without him would have become.

Naturally, this story appeals to Americans of all stripes. The concept that any one of us matters that much is deeply ingrained in our collective consciousness.

This is a society of would-be heroes, those who would stand up, against all odds, in opposition to the forces of evil.

If only our lives were that simple! If only we could live in a comic book version of reality, as opposed to our true circumstances.

All of this makes me so, so sad. It is an ineffable sadness, a bottomless pit. No words I can string together can express how harmful I feel the dishonest and cruel propaganda Frank Capra inflicted on my fellow citizens was -- in the year before I was born.

We do not need more fake Daddies who sacrifice their own lives as if that was what their children would most honor. Every child I've ever met, including all of my own, would never hope for that fate to befall me. They all support me and my writing and my quests to make a difference in this difficult world, despite the fact that many of my choices have and continue to subject them to a less secure future than I am sure they would prefer.

Why?

Because our love for one another is secure, set in granite as tough as anything Mount Rushmore has to offer. The love between a parent and his or her children is not based on the mistakes that all of us imperfect humans make. It is based on a deeper understanding that each of us does whatever we can, to the best of our abilities, on behalf of everyone else in our family.

Tonight, on the verge of yet another Thanksgiving holiday that I will no doubt spend alone, due to financial and logistical circumstances beyond the control of any of us, I will still be giving thanks for what I have, as opposed to what I do not have.

Americans always yearn to return "home."

As for me, I have no such home, in the sense that no place exists where all of those I love could gather in true peace and love. But many others, far less fortunate than I am, share this fate, so I feel no self-pity.

I just hope that we all make it through yet another depressing fake holiday intact, able and willing to go forward, with some semblance of hope in our hearts. And that we can forgive those among us who no longer prove strong enough to do so. After all, an angel does not always show up at the right place and the right time, right?

And that's okay with me.

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