I’m afraid that modern luxuries – whether smooth highways cut through the Sierra or food on demand in the grocery store – have made us all a bunch of sniveling urban wimps who complain when we have to wait longer than three minutes for a Whopper at a Burger King drive-thru. We will never be half as hardy or possess half the character of those who had to shoot and skin their own game or clear a field of trees before they could plant corn, or nurse a sick child burning up with fever on the prairie without so much as a trauma center in the largest close town.