The Missing Key

     I bought a new keyboard the other day.  I didn't need one but it was at a reduced price.  Now I know why.  It is missing a key.  Oh, it wasn't obvious at first; the crafty manufacturer squeezed the rest of the keys together to make it appear as though nothing was amiss.  There was no gaping void to draw attention to the missing key.  They just shifted the rest of the keys over a bit, to cover it up.  I'm indignant!

     At first, I thought I might not get by without the key in question.  Upon further investigation,  it seems it is an important key.  It's absence might put quite a strain on my writing.  It may require some extra creativity to get around it.  For instance, adverbs are going to be very hard to use.  The absent key is a major component of the average adverb.  In addition, it is part of some very common words-- words that most of us use every day.  Tiny words and big words.  I guess I need to work around them.  If my writings don't seem to have their customary panache, it's not because I'm not trying.  It's just because of that damned missing key!

    I might have found one substitute for the missing key, but it on1y works with certain fonts.  And it won't work at the beginning of a sentence or the beginning of a proper noun.  In fact, I've used it in this paragraph, just to see how it appears on-screen.  It seems fine and I doubt that you've noticed in this case but it's function as a true substitute is restricted, for the afore-mentioned reasons.  Besides, my conscience might get to me after a time, knowing that I'm trying to deceive you, the reader, with a cheap substitute.  And if I ever decide to write with a sans serif font, I'd be screwed, since the use of that type of font changes the appearance, without equivocation, of the substitute key.
       
      No, I'm just going to have to get on without it.  Such is the human condition. And such is the American way.  So often, we think we can't survive without something we're used to having.  It turns out, though, with a bit of creative thinking and sometimes by changing our approach, we discover that things aren't as bad as they first appear.  In today's economy, this can be an important exercise.  When we become accustomed to certain accouterments or comforts, we sometimes find it hard to adapt when we're forced to give them up, whether for economic reasons or other unforeseen factors.  I sometimes think about my grandparents' generation and the things they were forced to forgo during the Great Depression or during WWII.  My grandfather used to give an account of how it was customary for him to use just one teabag for an entire week during the Great Depression.  He wrapped it in paper after each use and  re-used it each day for a week.  Now I don't know if this story is true but such stories often have some basis in fact.  It is a fact that during WWII Americans, and others, had to give up much in order to get by.  There was rationing of food and gas and other commodities that today we take for granted.  Food stuffs such as sugar, butter, meats, cheeses, fruits and veggies were rationed, among other things.  Imagine going to the grocery store today and being restricted to the amount of food you may buy, even though you had the money for more. Of course, many didn't have the extra money and rationing was just a way of making sure everyone got a fair share.  But Americans adapted.  They recognized that the key to surviving was a certain amount of sacrifice and making do with what they had.  And, in the end, America prospered and continued to be the greatest country on earth. 

     Today many have found that they, too, are being forced to do without some of the things they think they need and can't do without.  Part of that stems from the fact that Americans are sometimes just too needy.  They think they need a new car, just because their current one's paint has faded; they think they need a vacation on the Riviera; they think they need to go out for a steak dinner every weekend.   The key is to recognize that those are wants and not needs.   Others have been forced to give up things they once enjoyed but that they cannot now afford.  This often causes pain and consternation.  The key for them is to appreciate the things they do have and not bemoan the things they don't.  As in the case of my defective keyboard, sometimes the key is substitution, but often it isn't quite the same.  Other times, the key is finding ways to adapt and work with what you have.  For instance, I've had to adapt and write this entire treatise without the use of a key that I thought I needed.  Instead, using some creative thinking and by changing my approach, I've gotten by just fine without it.  It's unfortunate, but some have yet to find the key to adapting to their own current economic circumstances. What about you?  Have you identified the missing key?