Are we on Earth to learn to put up with ourselves? Could we be quieter about it?
Yes, I don’t know, but I do believe that every individual is an exception to the rule.
The past 100 weeks have been so topsy-turvy that we seem to hope life will magically get exhausted from dealing with us. We want a return to normal weather, normal jobs, normal surprises and normal achievements.Just a few weeks ago, Saturday morning was Subaru-commercial gorgeous. Then Blam! The temperature dropped forty degrees in four hours. One minute we were outside in a t-shirt, the next we were wondering if we really wrapped pipes and checked the light under the house.
Conversation interrupted worry when she drove up.
“Many people who want to be closer to divinity, who want to help, who see people going without and want to fix it, are whistling Dixie,” my friend who dropped by for nothing said.
“What does whistling Dixie even mean?” I asked.
She said it means being unrealistic and is derived from the hope that whistling would unite the Confederacy to a surprise win. I knew the unrealistic part and assumed whistling Dixie meant fantasizing, but thought it also had something to do with Dixieland jazz and Strom Thurmond whistling in his garden. He’s the one who wanted segregation by color in his voting district, state, and nation.
Joe Biden spoke at his funeral and said Thurmond was “a product of his time.”
Now, really? Racism is a template of civility when it’s clumped into yesterday’s time frame? It’s forgivable to sway the racist vote by blaming racism on what year it happened?
She interrupted my mental merry-go-round with logic.
“When we see someone we consider hopeless, powerless and sad, we want to fix it,” she said. “But what happens instead is that we feel hopeless, powerless and sad.”
“What about tailgaters?” I asked. “We want them to back off. We interfere with what we think is unacceptable and dangerous by getting upset, glaring in the rearview mirror, raising a fist or pulling over and chasing them back. Our righteousness makes us uncivil.
“But if we nod and smile, we can expect to get good right back, right? Have I been mistaught?”
She insisted that whatever we face is of our own making.
I was still of the opinion that none of us created Covid. None of us created snownadoes. And none of us gets anywhere by reducing another person’s plight, personality or background.
“Soooo, what’s fair?” I wanted to know, but I also knew that the answer was probably not what I wanted to hear. For instance, I rant about Dish Network hawking monthly subscriptions for clear pictures and 100 channels, but still forcing us to endure commercials! Dish is double dipping. If we stick an antenna on the roof so we can get small Springfield or Fayetteville stations, then sure, expect commercials. But when we pay $100 a month for what satellite companies provide, we shouldn’t have to watch them resell the time we already bought.
This is known as a no win.
“I feel tailgated by modern society,” she answered. “I feel like even those with wide open hearts are only open to what benefits them. Money or high-fives from the community. They are insisting we hurry up and see things their way. Fundraisers, for instance. I recently got letters from two libraries, a community center, an animal shelter, St. Jude’s, a clinic, Save the Children, the ASPCA and my son’s girlfriend, all needing cash. They have a compelling story, but only St. Jude’s offered something in return, a t-shirt they claimed I could wear proudly.”
She was getting perilously close to being judgmental but saved herself when she said if your beliefs make you needy or obnoxious, let go of them.
“So, nationalism is a dangerous trap?” I asked. “Because we assume that screaming louder will make things go our way and benefit others? Isn’t that true for theism, atheism, and affordable housing? We all know what’s better for someone else?”
“Did you ever wrap your pipes?” she asked on her way out.
“Yes. Because it matters.”