"Are we really blessed or just plain lucky?" By Greg Hernandez

While food shopping yesterday an epiphany fell on me like a drop of water before the start of a heavy shower; I could not believe what I would see the day before Friday the 13^th. I left the food town super market near my house with one item left on my list to purchase. I needed to buy some bug repellant. I decided to walk toward the family dollar store. I quickly found the “Off” bug repellant. Once I stood on line, I turned around to check out my surroundings. I saw something out of the corner of my eye that took hold of my attention, yet my body quickly instructed me to turn around. It was too late. A small voice to my left spoke my name. I could not decipher its owner. I turned my head to see where the voice had come from. It was an old classmate from high school. He was working here!

 My eyes looked straight at a gaunt figure – a charcoal looking gargoyle stood smiling at me. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. His hands were extremely ashy. I saw an unkempt appearance and gloomy disposition. He had obviously not gone to college, for if he had, he had obviously not finished. Why else would he be working here? He looked like an old man, yet we were the same age. I was thunderstruck at how far he had declined as a human being. His facial hair was hard to look at – for some awkward feeling it added to his ugliness. The moustache and beard looked un-brushed. In hindsight, I imagine the reason why I did not like his facial hair is because we had gone to a private Catholic school where we always had to be clean shaven. Seniors could grow mustaches and even a beard for prom.

What was worse than his appearance was the voice. He had a homeless person’s speech. He told me that I looked the same. I did not respond to that. He asked me what I was doing. I told him. He said it was good that I was “holding it down, brother.”

I paid for my bug repellant and said good-bye to a guy I had once knocked out in a fight at school seven years ago. Upon leaving the store I realized how lucky I was. That could have been me! Had circumstances in my life been different, I may have suffered the same fate as my old high school classmate. A sense of relief coursed through my body. My heart beat faster as my pace quickened. I wanted to rush home now. Joyful thoughts paraded in the chasms of my mind. I have two good parents who are still married, love each other and love me, I thought. I’m lucky.

Had I succumb to a lost sense of ambition, an unwillingness to be determined to pursue and ultimately achieve my goals, I know I would have been that person working in a family dollar store.
 
Then, slowly but surely anger gripped me and would not let me go like a child unwilling to relinquish a toy. The words, “you’re blessed,” echoed in my mind. I gritted my teeth. It is a stupid phrase, I thought. Nobody on this planet is blessed. Everyone has some unique skill set, passion, activity that they enjoy doing. This world has corrupted us all to believe that we are blessed. An asinine sense of entitlement to believe that some must be gifted with abilities and some are not gifted at all; the phrase is infamously uttered throughout the annals of the sports world. This man has God given talent. Truly, I laugh at the mention of a god. A god who would give someone more talent than somebody else, it makes absolutely no sense. It’s like the stupid God Bless America song: Why would God only bless America? Out of all the countries in the world…anyway, I digress. Where was I? Oh, right, sports.

Someone can dunk a ball, can sink a golf ball into a hole, can score goals, and can hit a ball with a bat, better than most people. Everyone is good at something. We as a people place an intrinsic value upon certain abilities. We do not value each other as a whole. Our common humanity is only present when catastrophe strikes.

People say the phrase I’m blessed for the most unusual and mundane things. I’m blessed for all of the joy in my life. Bullshit! You’re lucky. You’re lucky to have been born in an industrialized country, you’re lucky to have been born free from a genetic birth effect, lucky to have not been sold into slavery, lucky to have not been stoned to death for marrying the person you love, lucky to not live in a country that the United States of America drones, lucky to have not been raped or molested before the age of 10, lucky to have all of your senses, lucky to not have fought in a war, lucky to be live freely, lucky to have first world problems, lucky to complain about things without much consequence, lucky to drown away your sorrows with alcohol and lucky to have the Internet at your disposal at most times.

We’re lucky, not blessed.
“I’m blessed with large breasts.”  No you’re not it just runs in your family.
“I’m blessed with a large penis.” Ah, you’re just lucky.
“I’m blessed with intelligence smart.” Bullshit, you were pushed as a child, if not you had the academic curiosity and wherewithal to pursue your intellectual interests at an early age. You also, had the opportunity. Others were not so lucky. Sure, you probably had an insane amount of learning potential, but how was it nurtured.

Saying the phrase, “I’m blessed,” is as pretentious a saying as “corporations are people too my friends.”