Happiness is not as easy as it looks. And, like cilantro, it's not for everyone. In fact, scientists even have a new term for "happiness." It's -- get this -- "subjective well-being" or SWB. Can you imagine? An acronym for everything. It seems the so-called developed nations have so much leisure time on their hands that the notion of happiness can now be analyzed and studied by the government.
I was astonished to read in the Christian Science Monitor that British Prime Minister Tony Blair has formed a "Department of Happiness," an agency that studies happiness, and how to get more of it. The British government actually has an advisor on happiness. He's Lord Richard Layard. He says, "There has been no upward trend in happiness, despite the fact that we are richer, healthier and have longer holidays." Lord Layard seems to be suggesting that the more we have, the more we have to worry about. The United Nations and the EU and The Economist magazine have rated happiness in Europe. The happier nations are Norway, Iceland, Australia, Ireland, Denmark, and Switzerland. The richest countries, Britain, France, and Germany, fared the worst.
Are we surprised? Not really. The U.S. would rank low, as well. That's because the bigger salaries come with more sacrifices. More and more people spend more time at work and coming and going to work. That means less time for the people we love -- or are supposed to love, if we ever get to see them.
I used to think that San Francisco had to be the happiest city in the country -- or even the world. I was much younger then, of course. I came here in 1970, and carried my dreams, my aspirations, and my hopes with me.I was sure I'd thrive in the most liberal, tolerant, pretty, sexy city anywhere -- and it had great restaurants. There were funky, intimate clubs to hear music. Artistes of all stripes came here to flaunt their crafts, their egos, and their lusty appetites.
I played music on the street with a group in the 70s -- a guitar, a fiddle, and a squeezebox (accordion). We made a pretty good living. All the buskers seemed to do all right back then by being street performers -- and there was a lot of real talent out there. The reigning king and queen of street artists were the famous mimes, Robert Shields and Lorene Yarnell. They practically owned Union Square. They drew large crowds of tourists who thought this was an "only in San Francisco" experience. Shields &Yarnell even got discovered. They got their own television show in Hollywood. They were married in 1972.
I ran into Robert a few years ago, at Lefty O'Doul's. "Oh, Bruce, those days were magical," he reminisced. "Lorene and I would collect about $150 a day. Remember, we were renting a Victorian in the Haight for 200 a month. At midday, we'd saunter up to North Beach, have a huge lunch, go home, and make love. Man, we were so happy."
You said it. These days people have to work so hard to pay the high rents in order to live here, that there's not much time left to really live here.
Robert and Lorene were divorced in 1986. Robert is running a very successful jewelry and collectible business out of Sedona, Ariz. Lorene lives with her husband in Norway. Are they happy? I hope so. Lorene is living in the European country that rates highest for happiness. I actually know a truly happy person. She lives in Central America. But she could live anywhere, and be happy. That's because she truly knows how to give love, and requires nothing in return.
With all due respect to Lord Layard, I don't think we can count on the government to make us happy.
Our own Declaration of Independence does not say we are owed happiness, it says we should be allowed to pursue it. But we impose a lot expectations on ourselves, and they're often out of reach. The more complex life becomes, the harder it is to be recognized, to be heard amid the noise. That's why the Internet is abuzz with blogs. Nothing is more painful than to be ignored. At the end of the day, we may have collected a lot of things, but why do we still feel so empty? Once in a while we might have a huge lunch, go home, and make love. That means slowing down. Maybe we should just stop and smell the calamari.
Bruce Bellingham is the Arts & Entertainment Editor of this paper, and the author of Bellingham by the Bay. He wanted to call the book Spearfishing for Compliments but the publisher would have none of it.
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