What a difference a week makes! Last week, I
took one last putt around the lake in the Porta-Bote, before putting the little
outboard away for the season. As I drifted on the far end of the mirror-calm
lake, the sun in the latter half of its day, I had a moment of sublime peace. That
peace is ever elusive these days, and while we live in paradise, and my life is
in most ways charmed, there is a lot of noise in my head right now. An
omnipresent sadness and dread lurk just below the surface of every human
encounter I’ve made this past week, and it just seems as if a lot of people
have resigned themselves to the notion that “evil” has triumphed. Trump is President,
Russia and the Syrian Government are bombing the life out of Aleppo, the Kardashians
are still bafflingly newsworthy. As if all the troubles around the world are not
enough, an unusual number of my musical heroes have checked out of the Shit
Storm Hotel in 2016. Leonard Cohen in particular, the poet-songwriter and ambassador
of love, who so eloquently taught us the complicated lessons of love, has
betrayed us by proving to be mortal. Maybe it’s the Chicken Little press, or
the preponderance of “how-can-you-not-see-this-is-the-end-of-the-world?!”
conversations floating around, or the indignation of so many, I don’t know. It just
seems to me as if it is up to us “the people” to extricate ourselves from this
doom and gloom. If righteous indignation was a currency, North America would have
an embarrassment of riches. Sure I’m worried, but here is my deeply meaningful,
self-righteous, rationalization of the week.
“We have met the enemy and he is us!” How many
times have I repeated this quote from the famous cartoon possum Pogo? For the almost
twenty-five years since I began writing this report, I have, sometimes
sarcastically, vented my righteous indignation about politicians, hate groups,
spoiled celebrities, biased media, etc. etc. Still, what have I done to make the
human condition better? Bupkiss. I’m part of the problem because, just like the
whining masses in the streets bitching about Trump, I am indignant but
ineffective. The real heroes of our society are invisible. Who cares about my
friend Michelle, who works for Community Living and daily assists, respects,
cares about her mentally challenged clients? Who notices the inspirational music
teacher who mentored a dozen famous singers, or the fireman who contracted
cancer when he dug through the ruins of 9-11 looking for survivors, or the
policeman who was killed protecting an ungrateful community, or the volunteer
who selflessly delivers meals to the homebound elderly, or ten million other
good people? We live in a world full of unspeakable atrocities, and now that
the information is more accessible than it ever used to be, indifference
becomes our self-defense. We demand ever more sensational catastrophes of the
human condition and, like we watch reality television, we stare numbed at the bad
news like deer in the headlights. Is it really such a surprise that a “populist”
like Donald Trump was elected? He had the ratings. We the people have met the
enemy … and he is us (not them).
My songwriter friend Doug McLean posted a quote the other day that
drives the point home. It had to do with the Holocaust, and how that atrocity
was allowed to occur. Essentially, the message was that, in the environment of divisiveness,
ignorance, indifference, complacency, and cowardice, horrible things like genocide
can happen. I know a lot of people are fearful that history is again repeating
itself; I’m afraid of this as well, but I haven’t given up on humanity. What I aspire
to do is my part, in my community. This Thursday marks the
American Thanksgiving, hands down my favorite holiday of the year. I miss my
mom and dad a lot, and I miss the beautiful family gatherings they hosted every
year. They were the glue that bound our family together, along with at least a
few strays, and no matter how dysfunctional it is, there is no better microcosm
for humanity than our immediate family. Turn the other cheek. Maybe I didn’t
adore Uncle Fred, and his seemingly ignorant, backward comments, but I learned
to accept him. I am thankful for my
good fortune, and most of all for the wonderful people whom I have been
fortunate enough to know and love. All I can do is pay it forward, and hope
that love triumphs over hate. Of late, I have begun to view the friends in my
community as my family. Don’t leave it for someone else to fix this. Tolerate,
listen, heal, understand; love. You can’t fix everything, but you can help. To
all my American family and friends, Happy Thanksgiving!!
- Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2016 ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED
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