Choose Life?

I have just seen an ad on TV for presliced cheese. Not the individually wrapped kind we've always had, that ain't real cheese anyway (it's plastic), but a packet of cheese that is, well, sliced. So you don't have to.

Cheddar cheese - a malleable substance - and a knife. It's not exactly open heart surgery is it? But then that's modern life. It's all about convenience, choice and having the time to do the things you enjoy. Or at least that is what the advertising always tells you. Problem is, we're so busy trying to keep up with all the choices we think we have to make, that we find we have no time left to enjoy them.

Personally, I enjoy cutting the cheese - and I don't mean flatulence, although I do get tremendous enjoyment out of that. Not so much the act itself but the discomfort it brings others when you squeeze out a warm one, now that's gold. We have one of those wire cutter thingees that make it dead easy to slice cheese and in today's society where everything is already done for you, I take immense pride in delivering an even slice of cheese, every time.

You know where all this convenience is leading don't you? In the future we won't actually eat, because it will be too inconvenient. We'll simply have available to buy, preformed and prepacked stools that we can then drop down the carzie and flush away. Think of the precious time you will have saved by not eating. Or shitting.

But is too much choice an inconvenience?

A recent report found that an ever increasing number of Australian teenagers are feeling incredibly stressed in their lives trying to keep up with their choices. Which is ironic given that their generation has more choice than my generation ever dreamed of. In fact they have so much choice now that they simply do not know what to choose. Man, that is whack.

Of course the same social rules apply now as they did back in my day, it's important to look cool whilst stressing - but what is cool? One teenager's cool these days is another teenager's lame. So who or what do you choose?

Incidentally, I was cool before my time. I had Doc Marten shoes long before it was cool to have them. They were so rugged that the soles didn't bend on them for three years. Kids heard me a mile off as I slapped my way across the pavement. I longed for Nomads like all my mates and took to scuffing the shit out of my Docs so that I could get a pair. By the time I did, Nomads were gay and Doc Martens were the shizz. Those Nomads, that interestingly were hand made by an Indian man who lived up the road and who sold them door to door from a suitcase, lasted me for years.

I had a satchel too, way before it was cool to have one. I got hassled for having a man bag. The spastic (who couldn't walk good) with a handbag. By the time I got rid of the damn thing, guess what was the must have item of the constantly aroused pubescent teen at my school....

With choice comes convenience. Everything in today's world is disposable. The TV, the PlayStation, the iPod, the boyfriend, the wife. Why hang on to something that may have the slightest flaw when an upgrade is just a click away? You know what - the iPod isn't even the best MP3 player on the market for Christs sake - but it's cool and convenient to have what everyone else has, rather than making an informed choice. Because that means having to make an effort.

The institution of marriage is the classic example of the disposable lives we lead. When things get a little interesting, why would you choose to develop some testes and try to work things out, when it's easier to call it quits and find someone new? After all, there's an Internet full of Next Door Nikkis 'waiting to meet you'.

I recently had two young employees hand in their resignations after being with us for only three days. Their reasoning: The role was too technical. It was a level entry computing position, the only technical thing about it was that the keyboard had more buttons on it than their cellphones. I suspect I'll see them working down my local KFC any day now.

Is it any wonder then, that people, bombarded with so much choice and so much convenience, turn in increasing numbers to the likes of Methamphetamine, alcohol, or porn to fill their lives rather than develop the life skills needed to make decisions? Those three things are much easier to choose. Tune In, turn on, cop out.

Wasn't life easier when you only had three TV channels to choose from and not the sixty three you have now? When the only porn you had to call upon was the girls in their undies in the Farmers catalogue? When your Mum didn't work two jobs and go to the gym and actually took the time out to teach you how to cut cheese? I think so.