The good news is that 2020 is finally over.
The bad news is that the sequel to it isn't looking much better than the original.
Corona virus deaths are up, a murderous mob overtook the Capitol, and, worst of all, Tom Brady is back in the Super Bowl.
The whole month has me feeling deflated.
It hasn't been an easy start to the year. When the rioters took over the Capitol, I foolishly thought that we had hit rock bottom--that reasonable folks would realize our political rhetoric has gotten overheated and we'd have a moment of unity. What happened instead seems to be the polar opposite. People have just doubled down on the finger-pointing that made our politics so toxic in the first place. The conversation sounds like this:
Liberal: "Trump incited the rioters, why won't you condemn what just happened?"
Conservative: "But why didn't you condemn the riots over the summer over police violence?"
L: "Well, why don't you condemn police violence? And why haven't you condemned that band, The Police? Their song "Every Breath You Take" was about a stalker!"
C: "Why don't you condemn all the violence and murder happening in the inner cities? And why haven't you condemned Murder Hornets?"
L: "Speaking of murder, why haven't you condemned the Iraq invasion, the Spanish-American War, violent video games, and the board game "Clue"?
C: "Well, what about violent rap songs? They don't even use proper grammar! Think of the children! And what about wrapping paper that is violent to my eyes? It's part of a War on Christmas! THINK OF THE CHILDREN!!!!"
L: "If you're so concerned about the children, what about George Washington? If he was the Father of our Country, shouldn't we be condemning him for having given birth to all 300 million of us Americans? There must have been incest involved!"
And so it goes.
Thing is, what was quoted above was among the better conversations I've heard the last few weeks about current events. It's easier for us to deflect to some prior perceived wrong committed by "the other side" so that they never get to feel morally superior. As a result, we end up pointing fingers backwards, and we never move forward.
It's a dark time, and I don't just mean because it's January. Our civil discourse is broken. The weather is cold. Alex Trebec is gone, and now the world waits with baited breath to see if Dr. Fauci might take his place as ageless, benevolent, know-it-all once the pandemic ends.
The holidays are over, and what limited diversions winter usually offers are even fewer this year with the virus raging. I've personally been lucky enough to escape the virus, but I've had a frustrating time with MS the last few months, and that's bringing me down too.
And to make things even worse, as I mentioned, Tom Brady is back in the Super Bowl.
This is usually where I pivot to say that life still has hope, even when things seem dark. But this time I just can't--there is just nothing redeeming about Tom Brady.
There is something redeeming about my favorite play that involves puppets, however, so maybe I can start there.
Avenue Q is a takeoff of Sesame Street, only written for adults. Its writers say it was written to give young adults age-appropriate lessons on the real world just like kids get from Big Bird and company. The only difference is that instead of learning how to count or not to get into cars with strangers, Avenue Q teaches things like "everyone's a little bit racist" (there's a musical number devoted to the idea that you will offend people without meaning to), or "you probably won't find complete fulfillment in your first few jobs." (The musical also uncomfortably profane in parts, but let's just ignore that for now.)
My favorite message in the play, though, is in the final song. In Only For Now, the cast of puppets gives departing advice for new adults set to make their way in the world:
"Nothing lasts. Life goes on, full of surprises.
You'll be faced with problems of all shapes and sizes.
You're going to have to make a few compromises,
For now.
But only for now.
Only for now. ...
For now we're healthy, for now we're employed.
For now we're happy, if not overjoyed.
But we'll accept the things we cannot avoid, for now.
For now. ...
Don't stress.
Relax.
Let everything roll off your backs.
Except for death and paying taxes
Everything in life
Is only for now
...
Everything in life
Is only for now
The song lists a number of other things that are only for now, such as your hair, your job, and discomfort. The current online version of the song even lists Covid. I'm not in the habit of arguing with puppets, so if they say that Covid is temporary, who am I to disagree?
Besides, deep down I know that winter will end. Vaccines will be distributed. It's not an election year anymore, so soon, gloriously, we'll be free to forget about politics for weeks at a time. When the world returns to normal, maybe we'll have a new version of the Roaring 20's by the summer. (Maybe we'll even get snazzy 20's-themed outfits.)
At some point I'll take on a new project to make one more last triumphant stand against MS. It might or might not work out, but I'll be enlivened by the journey and it will feel wonderful. The sun will shine again, and this time we won't have to be six feet apart from the person sharing it with us.
We'll get there, and we'll toast about it.
Once we can venture outside again, we'll find ourselves less likely to be arguing in keyboard conversations and more likely to be spending time doing enjoyable things with others in person.
I look forward to the day.
In the meantime, I hope that I don't take for granted getting to sleep in on work days, all the extra books I got to read in 2020.
I hope restaurants keep delivering dinner on rainy Saturday nights when I wouldn't have wanted to go out anyway. I hope the weather will be nice soon, so I can sit on outdoor balconies again.
I hope life soon lets me travel enough to make up for lost time.
And most of all, I hope that Tom Brady's team will lose this year's Super Bowl.
But if he wins, well, I take comfort that he'll only be the Super Bowl champion for now.
No comments:
Post a Comment