Alright, let's talk about Joe Edel. Obituary came across my desk – or, y'know, my screen. Ninety-four years old. Carpenter. Sounds like a normal life, right? Wrong. It's a freakin' indictment of everything that's gone sideways in this country.
The Quiet Dignity of a Real Life
"Joe worked as a carpenter for over 40 years and owned and operated his own company, Joe Edel Construction until his retirement in 1988." See that? Owned his own company. Forty years. Now, you got some VC-funded app that replaces human interaction with... nothing. And they call that "innovation". Joe built actual things. With his hands. Remember when people did that?
And "He also enjoyed working in his garden and spent many hours there weekly taking care of his crops that he was growing." Gardening! Imagine that – growing your own food instead of ordering takeout from some soulless chain. He was connected to the earth, to something real. We're all just staring at screens, mainlining dopamine hits.
A Life Measured in Wood and Soil, Not Likes
"Joe lived at Roberds Lake for over 60 years and enjoyed living there very much." Sixty years in one place! These days, people move every two years chasing some phantom "better opportunity." Joe found his happiness where he was, built a life, and stayed. Loyalty. Remember that concept?
Mass of Christian Burial? Fine. Whatever. But the fact that the family prefers memorials be directed to Bethlehem Academy High School... that's telling. Investing in the future, in education. Not some shiny new gadget or another streaming service.
Speaking of streaming services, I'm still waiting for my freakin' internet bill to go down. They keep raising the price, adding fees... it's highway robbery. And don't even get me started on the customer service.
The Obituary as a Mirror
This isn't just an obituary; it's a damn mirror. We look at Joe's life – simple, honest, connected – and what do we see reflected back? A bunch of disconnected, over-stimulated, debt-ridden zombies scrolling through endless feeds of curated garbage.
Look, I ain't saying Joe was perfect. Nobody is. But he lived a life of purpose, of tangible creation. What are we creating? What legacy are we leaving behind? A bunch of selfies and angry tweets?
And why's everything gotta be "content" now? Can't we just have stuff? Real stuff? Like a handcrafted wooden table or a tomato fresh from the garden...