Pandemic overblown by wealthy powers & national media’s nothing-but-coronavirus coverage

April 2020 will go down in history as one extremely long painful monotonous nightmare—more so in places like New York City than all the thousands of cities and locales elsewhere in the vast territory of the United States of America, but for all of us the worst financial crisis of our lifetimes.  Why?  Why did everybody have to stay home and either work online or not work at all?  Health experts predicted a deadly pandemic for which American hospitals and cities were unprepared.  By year’s end 2019, all eyes were on China’s clandestine handling of the fast-spreading COVID-19 or the novel coronavirus.  Americans thought mistakenly that it couldn’t happen here.  The entire U.S. economy shut down to save some lives and prevent for the most part big-city hospitals from being overrun with the latest contagion?  That is exactly what ended up happening—except without all the drama across the nation, just in NYC and similar huge metropolises, congested American cities like the ones we’re used to watching in TV dramas.

President Donald Trump, in a total about-face given his usual response to zig while government zags, ultimately decided to go with ‘the science’ and agreed to the slow down and eventual shut down of every aspect of American work in commerce, education and government save ‘essential’ services.  Notice all those in power—including corporations who pay for the daily TV ads promoting how we still need to eat restaurant meals or how our isolation has brought us together through the internet and our devices (not a single reference to old-fashioned phone calls)—perceive a month or two of personal lost income as no big deal, even the President.  They have the resources to survive a financial setback.  But not the American people, the vast majority living paycheck to paycheck, every dollar relied upon to balance a monthly budget of mortgage or rent, groceries, medications, insurance, utilities, bills and life’s incidentals.   

And the President thinks Americans who finally started protesting at their state capitols and city halls have cabin fever?  No, sir, they are people millionaires and billionaires do not understand.  Americans actually want to pay their bills.  Their greatest fear is losing their home, cars and everything.  The stay-home-stay-safe mandate was the worst mistake made by government at all levels.  Americans were not asked what they thought, if they were willing to risk their health and their families if they continued working during a pandemic. Americans would have answered, “Hell, yeah!  Let’s do it!  Anything to earn a paycheck.”  Hospital administrators and virus scientists sounded the alarm of a pandemic that potentially could kill millions of Americans and make tens of millions sick.  But that is not what happened, and it is not what is going to happen.  We see that now.

Along for the ride

The mass media went along with presenting the practical advice and educated assumptions from medical science circles to practice common-sense health guidelines to avoid the coronavirus (stay home, wash hands, avoid crowds).  In spotlighting what the medical experts have to say about avoiding this illness, cable and even local TV have presented nothing but coronavirus news 24-hours-a-day.  Fine for the first two weeks but then overkill and by now unnecessary.  Just today one of the top cable news networks included a non-coronavirus news story, this one about a missing woman.  Life, the good and bad, did not stop just because of a pandemic.  But to hear the media tell it, it did.  The national news, made up of professional journalists, have covered every angle, the same angles, of the pandemic ad nauseum.

But one angle the big-time media missed goes along with their failure to predict Donald Trump would win the presidency.  This time they missed the American workers’ perspective during a pandemic, which is not an uncommon health crisis, not our first rodeo.  Americans want to go back to work, go back to earning money.  Hell, they never wanted to stop working.  Americans did not want to stay home to avoid getting sick or perchance infect their loved ones or others.  If asked, they would do anything to keep a job: work six feet apart, wear masks, permit temperature checks, go directly home after work, even accept a lower wage and shorter hours especially if temporary.  By now a couple hundred million Americans are realizing their rights were trampled even if temporarily and with the best of intentions.  The lawsuits will come as America is the most litigious nation in the world.  People will sue over their child’s missed education, their family’s missed income and inability to pay bills, even their misdiagnoses whether positive or negative coronavirus or their other infections and ailments sidelined due to the red alert for COVID-19.

Hindsight is 20/20.  While a world-class nation like Sweden carried on sans panic by allowing citizens to choose sheltering at home or continue working during the pandemic, the USA was caught pants down with no pandemic preparation (sorely lacking abundant medical supplies, respiratory equipment and emergency field hospitals).  No, instead, for some convoluted reason, our nation chose the worst-case scenario to close the entire economy, half of which is from small businesses, and send out billions of dollars in stimulus checks and business loans.  Why?  Why was the greatest, strongest, most prosperous nation on earth caught off guard and ill-prepared to carry on during another pandemic?  The national media and talking heads covered that already.  And it doesn’t help for President Trump to lead daily briefings on the pandemic with antagonistic quips to national reporters there to cover it.

We got it.  We’re in heap big trouble.  We’re reminded every day on the news and online.  Tens of millions of American workers have applied for unemployment because their jobs aren’t coming back.  Some financial experts predict an economic depression.  Many small businesses are closed for good not because of the pandemic but because of how government handled the pandemic: convincing everyone to stay home for the sake of their loved ones and forcing everyone to stop the spread.

Well, the daily numbers indicate a job well done, best that could be expected, much better actually.  This pandemic is mild compared to the Spanish flu of 1918 which took the lives of 50 million worldwide and in the U.S. less than one million dead.  Even a hundred years ago, Americans during that pandemic had to wear masks to avoid contracting the flu.  That was fair.  And they kept working, too.  Maybe the spread and death were high because everyone continued working.  Times were so different then.  People didn’t need much.  Probably everybody had no health insurance.  Life was less complex.  And there was no flu vaccine, still today only used by less than half the U.S. population.

Compared to today, it’s not why but how, with all our collective intelligence in this 21st century high tech age, did we go off the rails in dealing with a pandemic?  It’s bat crazy from the top down.  And that is what all the protests are about.  Americans are not foolish or stupid about health, new viruses and pandemics.  If you’re gonna survive in this country, hell on the planet, you take chances every day.  The Swedes understand about building a tolerance to a new virus, that life is survival of the fittest and some will die but not everyone, not the majority.  Americans are willing to do whatever it takes to work and apparently to just survive.  The way this turned out is why so many Americans, 70 percent without a college education, are suspicious of the highly educated and distrustful of the government.  Lots of lessons here all the way around.

American Pop Music tells our story, from revolution to capitalism & always homage to God

Living the American life can be bittersweet, like that song Everybody’s Talkin’ from the movie Midnight Cowboy.   An upbeat tempo yet somber tone sets an ironic theme of stubborn optimism to which every American can relate: personal aspirations despite countless setbacks and heedless freedom to wonder around this great land in hopes of finding a better life or at least a better view.  Now with the pandemic and governmental mandates to stay home, without pay, we’re dealing with a very bitter experience—the worst time ever according to Willie Nelson (who grew up in the Depression Era).  To pass the time, I thought about American influence especially during the 20th century in music, movies and pop culture.  Being a child of pop music, a religious listener of Top 40 radio back in the day, I formulated a list of what I consider our country’s most ‘American’ songs: not patriotic but songs reflecting the American experience in all our truest intentions, shortcomings and slow-to-realize social evolutions.  The list starts with the American Revolutionary War and ends with a Taylor Swift song.  The list was revised and edited until compiled into an entertaining assortment, well to me.  Too, American pop music—expressed throughout the recent centuries in folk, gospel, blues, country, jazz and rock idioms—not only reveals our collective story but also amplifies our best and worst characteristics: a warring inclination; willingness to die for liberty; and most assuredly fight in print and vocal protest for the right to pursue personal happiness, to live our own lives, and right or wrong to love the very ones who make our hearts sing.

18th Century/American Revolutionary War Era

Johnny Has Gone for a Soldier was an old Irish song, Siul A Ruin.  Best accompanied by a dulcimer, with a timbre reminiscent of the Old World, and sung in an ethereal soprano voice, the beautiful morose lament pierces the heart with plain lyrics telling of an earlier age when womenfolk remained behind during war while anticipating the loss of their beloved soldier:

“I’d sell my clock.  I’d sell my reel.

  Likewise, I’d sell my spinning wheel

  to buy my love a sword of steel.

  Johnny has gone for a soldier.”

Amazing Grace, written in 1772 by John Newton, known in his day as a drunkard and slave trader, the spiritually profound lyrics were inspired after he survived a violent storm at sea.  Amidst the dangerous turmoil, Newton, not particularly religious though raised a Puritan, called on the Almighty for divine intervention, to save his life and everyone on board.  Miraculously, the storm passed with no harm to crew or vessel.  This universal song of faith and humble acceptance of God’s grace has been performed so often, its status has risen to American anthem.  The lyrics weren’t set to music until decades later, using the British tune New Britain.  From the opening stanza, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,” the song declares a personal revelation of God’s patient love and enduring companionship despite our human faults and failings:

“I once was lost but now am found,

 was blind but now I see.”

19th Century

Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child is perhaps the most poignant of all African-American spirituals, songs by slaves.  This song reportedly was first performed in concert in 1870 according to gospel music archives.  The song also sets the format for traditional blues lyrics, repeating a line two or three times then adding a lyrical twist at the end:

“Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.

  Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.

  Sometimes I feel like a motherless child

  a long way from home, a long way from home.”

The song resonates today as the feelings are universal.  Though the lyrics directly refer to a people taken from their Mother Homeland and plopped into a strange land of unknown language, culture, clothing, music and religion—a place where no one loved and cared for them—the song is relatable to anyone who feels orphaned or out of place.

Wabash Cannonball, originally The Great Rock Island Route, is a traditional American folk song dating back to the 1880s.  The song’s history is said to have come from the hobo community, stragglers who jumped trains to ride from town to town.  The upbeat tempo expresses American freedom and the newfound excitement of speed, which would become an impressive attribute defining our country during the 20th century:

“From the great Atlantic Ocean to the wide Pacific shore,

 from the queen of flowing mountains to the south belt by the shore,

 she’s mighty tall and handsome and known quite well by all.

 She’s a modern combination called the Wabash Cannonball.”

Early 20th Century

Will the Circle Be Unbroken?, made popular in the 1920s by the Carter Family recording and radio play, was written as a Christian hymn in 1907 by Ada R. Habershon and Charles H. Gabriel.  The Carters rewrote the lyrics for a tear-jerking funeral song: 

“I was standing by my window

 on one cold and cloudy day

 when I saw the hearse come rolling

 for to carry my mother away.

 Will the circle be unbroken

 by and by, Lord, by and by?

 There’s a better home a-waitin’

 in the sky, Lord, in the sky.”

The hymn’s original lyrics spoke of the entire family in time reaching eternity, completing the family’s transition from the physical world to the spiritual hereafter.  But the Carter rendition is more profound and implies a family remains encircled and together even if one member or more are deceased.  The family circle remains unbroken.  The hymn is pure American in its Christian roots and certainty of a better life in the hereafter.

Solace, Scott Joplin’s most beautiful piano rag, is distinctively Spanish influenced.  Written in 1909, the instrumental piece uniquely features a tango beat.  The piece was used in the 1970s’ movie The Sting.  Joplin was an American original, hard working to his own detriment, and as a musical genius intended to combine musical elements from other cultures.  Sit back and relax sometime by listening to this piece, a bridge between Old West saloons and a turn-of-the-century craze called Ragtime.

God Bless America was written by prolific American songwriter Irving Berlin in 1918 to commemorate the end of ‘the war to end all wars.’  The song was revised and recorded again in 1938 as America soon would embark on another world war.  The song is a prayer, purely American in calling on divine guidance and protection specifically for America as a country:

“God, bless America, land that I love.

  Stand beside her and guide her

  through the night with the light from above.”

This Little Light of Mine seems a typical African-American spiritual, given its blues lyric format.  But it was written as a children’s song in the 1920s by Harry Dixon Loes.  Ever since, it continues to be performed in churches and elementary schools around the world.  What makes the song uniquely American is lyrics that relay self confidence, an individual’s assurance that is based in the spiritual.  The song, sung in first person, implies all God’s children possess a unique talent symbolized as an inner light radiating intelligence and value:

“This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.”

Rhapsody in Blue: The fabulous New York composer George Gershwin performed this brilliant musical tribute, combining jazz and modern American classical elements, in 1924, having written it as a last-minute instrumental composition.  Beginning with a swirling clarinet solo, the symbolism is not lost as the optimistic American who awakens to a brand new day.  Stretching to life and full of pride and purpose, he is soon joined by the rest of the population represented by the orchestra and then catapulted to work by strategic cymbal crashes.  Then Gershwin himself improvises on piano assorted syncopated and dazzling melodic phrases.  The famous finale represents day’s end, with the working American proud of occupational duty and livelihood, tired but content, and ready for well-deserved rest, awaiting dreams of even bigger endeavors.

Blue Skies by Irving Berlin came out in 1926.  The song is overflowing with optimism due to newfound love.  Yet it was penned by someone who suffered dark depression and low self esteem.  Unbelievable.  The work itself is classic American in that its creator is a humble man producing voluminous work and never letting on to his solitary sadness and insecurity:

“Blue skies smiling at me.  Nothing but blue skies do I see.

  … Blue days, all of them gone.  Nothing but blue skies from now on.”

Wildwood Flower was recorded with acoustic guitar in 1928 by the Carter Family.  The tune and lyrics were derivative of another lesser known song, but the Carters’ guitar-playing style, melodic riff with harmony simultaneously, sets it apart as an American folk stylistic masterpiece.  The lyrics tell of a gal wearing colorful flowers in her hair to attract suitors at a dance.  Eventually she settles for a mate who will neglect her as she ages, leaving her feeling like a faded flower still alive in the wild but unappreciated and overlooked.  The upbeat clap-along tempo carrying a song of rue is typical of the American expectation to keep a-goin’ even if heartbroken and unhappy.

Happy Days are Here Again: The originally peppy ditty, chosen by President Franklin Roosevelt as his campaign theme song, was somehow a hit at the beginning of America’s Great Depression.  The song was popularized in 1930 in a movie called Chasing Rainbows.  The upbeat tempo and lyrics ooze American optimism.  Then again, Roosevelt was wealthy and financially secure:

“Happy days are here again!
 The skies above are blue again!

 Let us sing a song of cheer again!

 Happy days are here again!”

Don’t Fence Me In, a Cole Porter and Bob Fletcher song written in 1934, was based on another similar song and reworked by the duo to the familiar hit melding cowboy Westerns with pop orchestra music.  The song inspired a movie or vice versa and represents the American pursuit and longing for land and spacious sky:

“Oh, give me land, lots of land, and the starry skies above.

  Don’t fence me in.

  Let me ride through the wide-open country that I love.

  Don’t fence me in.

  Let me be by myself in the evening breeze

  and listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees.

  Send me off forever, but I ask you please

  don’t fence me in.”

Sing, Sing, Sing (With a Swing), recorded in 1936 featuring the savage drumming of none other than Gene Krupa, must’ve created a generation gap between fainting Ragtime elders and the energized youth who would be known as Bobby soxers.  Add the growling brass and swirling winds, this Louis Prima tune recorded to fame by the Benny Goodman Orchestra best typifies a new untamed generation of Americans.  The song was first performed by Goodman’s Orchestra at Carnegie Hall as the finale of the premiere Big Band music concert, a music style found highly objectionable by the snooty concert board.  Stressing the off beat, the piece obviously puts front and center elements of African drumming, which would influence the next American generation’s musical taste, rock ’n’ roll. 

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy, written by Don Raye and Hughie Prince for the hilarious 1941 Abbott & Costello movie Buck Privates, is a WWII song representing the American attitude that says ‘I’ll do my duty, but I’m gonna have a lot of fun, too.’  GIs frequented canteens to swing dance and jitterbug the night away with lovely gals.  Archival photos and film clips leave the impression young Americans danced throughout the war.  There were dances to raise funds, dances to reinvigorate soldiers, and dances just to socialize and maybe meet prospective sweethearts.  And all that dancing to Big Band music, the greatest music America ever created.  The young Andrew Sisters’ lush harmonies poured over tight lyrics in a brisk tempo catapulted the swingin’ song to the top of the pop charts, number six on a list ranking the most influential songs of the 20th century:

“He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way.

  He had a boogie style that no one else could play.

  He was the top man at his craft.

  But then his number came up, and he was gone with the draft.

  He’s in the army now, a-blowin’ reveille.

  He’s the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B.”

Mid 20th Century

I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, by country & Western icon Hank Williams in 1949, was the B side of an uptempo tune typically preferred in those days by jukebox crowds.  But Williams’ sobering poetic lament became a natural American hit, aptly depicting the sights and sounds realized in solitude.  The singer says he’s so lonesome he could cry, yet he doesn’t—very American: 

“Did you ever see a robin weep

  When leaves begin to die?

  Like me, he’s lost the will to live.

  I’m so lonesome I could cry.”

This Land is Your Land: Just another hit song that tells the world our love affair with our country’s breathtaking and diverse terrain.  Penned by Depression folk hero Woody Guthrie in 1940, this standard American folk song was not recorded until 1951.  The entertainer and singer/songwriter had said he was inspired as an Okie hobo arriving in New York City.  Because of Guthrie’s leftist sympathies, the song may still be thought as subversive with secret meanings supporting socialism or communism.  But nevertheless, the song, sung in every school child concert, expresses the majestic land called America is perhaps the apple of God’s eye and intended for anyone to reside and enjoy, as the refrain goes, “This land was made for you and me.”

Rock ‘n’ Roll Music: By one of the genre’s pioneers, Chuck Berry, this song was an anthem and instant smash, earning it the prestigious title of ‘Oldie but a Goodie’: “It’s got a back beat, you can’t lose it.”  The song brings together country & Western flavor with a hard-driving rhythm & Blues beat.  Rock music may have been born in the 1950s, but the beat and spirit particularly in this song would continue to influence countless bands and steer Americans into a new direction when it came to what would be considered pop music.  

Christmastime is Here: America believes in Christmas and has contributed to the world’s collection especially in the 20th century.  But this 1965 classic from A Charlie Brown Christmas TV special is eloquent though somber, combining elements of jazz piano, brush drumming and beatnik bass.  Written by Lee Mendelson and jazz pianist Vince Guaraldi, the lyrics are as breathtaking as the melody, and at this moment in time not directly related to biblical passage, though the animated show’s storyline is.  The song presents a universal appeal, as mere children ponder if the loving and giving spirit of the holiday season could last throughout the year:

“Christmastime is here, happiness and cheer,

  fun for all that children call their favorite time of year.

  Snowflakes in the air.  Carols everywhere,

  olden times and ancient rhymes of love and dreams to share.”

What a Wonderful World, uniquely sang by beloved American jazz entertainer Louis Armstrong, was written by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss.  The song was a quick hit in Great Britain in 1967 but slow charting on American radio.  A throwback to the standard orchestrated American Pop style, Weiss wrote the lyrics specifically to bring the races together, and he wanted Armstrong to sing the song.  Like a jazzy lullaby, the lyrics are carefully crafted to convey optimism, hope and spiritual purpose—traits of American songs that first touch the heart before the mind fully comprehends and respects the message:

“I see skies of blue, clouds of white,

  the bright blessed day and the dark sacred night,

  and I think to myself, ‘What a wonderful world.’”

And When I Die is an uplifting declaration by influential ’60s’ singer/songwriter Laura Nyro.  In the spirit of a raucous minstrel style, her message may have been considered sacrilegious.  She expresses acceptance of the cycle of death and life while asserting no fear of dying.  The song is a sample of the changing attitudes of post-war Americans who by the 1960s were willing to split from traditional Christian teachings and beliefs, even the belief in God.  The song was recorded in 1966 by Peter, Paul & Mary but in 1968 became a major hit for the rock-jazz hybrid band Blood, Sweat & Tears.  And When I Die was a personal favorite of consummate 20th century American entertainer Sammy Davis, Jr.:

“And when I die, and when I’m dead, dead and gone,

  there’ll be one child born and a world to carry on, to carry on.”

My Way became a major late-career hit for America’s most famous crooner Frank Sinatra.  The lyrics were by songwriter Paul Anka who used the melody from a beautiful instrumental tune known in Europe.  Recorded in 1969, the life-affirming ode was an instant hit and remains interestingly enough a staple in the funeral biz.  The song is a good example of American sentiment that wants no one to grieve their death, though the song’s commentary could apply to the end of a romantic relationship.  The lyrics are stoic yet tender.  With no apologies, the lyrics convey one’s satisfaction and responsibility of life’s path and individual choices good and bad:

“Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew

  when I bit off more than I could chew.

  But through it all, when there was doubt,

  I ate it up and spit it out.

  I faced it all, and I stood tall

  and did it my way.”

Rose Garden, written by Joe South (Games People Play) and recorded in the late 1960s by a few notable artists before country singer Lynn Anderson took it to the top of the cross-over charts in 1970, presents in an upbeat tempo, as Americans like, a hard life lesson: practicality beats sentimentality.

“I beg your pardon.  I never promised you a rose garden.

  Along with the sunshine, there’s gotta be a little rain sometime.”

Me and Bobby McGee, Kris Kristofferson and Fred Foster’s ode to freedom in having nothing but your jeans, was recorded in the late 1960s by several country artists.  But rock star Janis Joplin would take the song to number one in 1971, her version released to radio after her death.  What makes the song American is an expressed stubborn streak, a don’t-give-a-damn attitude that no one can look down on people who are poor, homeless and rootless:

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”

Late 20th Century

Take This Job and Shove It, written by country music outlaw David Allan Coe and sung by Johnny Paycheck, was a huge hit in 1977.  What song could be more blue-collar American?  A sentiment felt by the working man who may not be in control but is willing to say ‘to hell with it’ and go for broke rather than work one more day for The Man in a meaningless job.  Sweet freedom!  Oh, and the song was number one on the charts:

“Take this job and shove it.

  I ain’t working here no more.

  My woman done left and took all the reasons

  I was working for.

  You better not try to stand in my way

  ’cause I’m walkin’ out the door.

  Take this job and shove it.

  I ain’t working here no more.”

I Will Survive, by American songwriters Freddie Perren and Dino Fekaris, exemplifies the disco era and was a first-time hit for singer Gloria Gaynor in 1978.  The over-the-top production begins in rubato like a sad ballad but then switches to a joyful dancing celebration and assurance of surviving not only heartbreak but the loneliness and fear of an uncertain future sans romantic love.  The song is about emotional strength.  Americans know they’ll survive anything.  Most of us don’t want no pity party:

“I will survive.

 As long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive.”

Material Girl, by Peter Brown and Robert Rans, was a 1984 super hit by Madonna who took the music world by storm and ruled the decade.  The song is an excellent example of America at the time, overindulging in material things.  But the song’s video storyline culminates with the singer preferring romance with a simple man of little means.  Yeah, right:

“They can beg and they can plead.  But they can’t see the light

  ’cause the boy with the cold hard cash is always Mister Right.”

One Moment in Time was an anthem and pop hit for Whitney Houston, an American singer who arguably possessed the greatest voice of the 20th century.  The song was written by Albert Hammond and John Bettis for the 1988 Olympics.  Told in first person, the song is about going after your dream, a common theme in America, one that requires courage and belief in oneself:

“I want one moment in time when I’m more than I thought I could be,

  when all of my dreams are a heartbeat away, and the answers are all up to me.”

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Billie Joe Armstrong, lead singer of the alternative rock band Green Day in 1997, returns to an unadorned acoustic sound of guitar accompaniment and male vocal solo enhanced later with a small string orchestra to elevate the song’s message.  The song contrasted the usually loud metal band (American Idiot) and may have been written sarcastically, playing on the phrase ‘good riddance.’  Even so, the song expresses American life in phases, looking back one last time in fondness before moving on to the next stage.  To the rest of the world, the ability to move on in life is our most notable American characteristic:

“Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road,

  time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go.

  So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why.

  It’s not a question but a lesson learned in time.

  It’s something unpredictable but in the end is right.

  I hope you had the time of your life.”     

21st Century

Where is the Love?, by pop rap troupe Black Eyed Peas, presents a host of messages in rapidly rapped verses countered by a smoothly sung chorus repeatedly asking “Where is the love?”  The 2003 song was a collaboration written by group front man will.i.am along with apl.de.ap, Taboo, Justin Timberlake, Ron Fair, Printz Board, Michael Fratantuno, George Pajon, Fiona Davies M. Fratantuno and J. Curtis.  The song presents concerns and suspicions about American government from the FBI to the CIA, terrorist organizations including gangs and the KKK.  Subsequent verses call on parents to teach their children instead of letting them grow up on their own and even shames adults for letting kids watch movies with adult content.  It is a moralistic message, something for which America is well known:

“People killin’.  People dyin.’

  Children hurt, and you hear them cryin.’

  Can you practice what you preach?
  Would you turn the other cheek?

  Father, father, father, help us.

  Send some guidance from above

  ’cause people got me, got me questionin’

  ‘Where is the love?’”

Shake It Off is a fantastic recent smash pop song (and video) by Taylor Swift, recorded in 2014.  Swift wrote the lyrics with songwriters Max Martin and Shellback.  Thinking about herself as a celebrity and how she is often cast in the gossip tabloids, Swift’s lyrical comments indicates the need to carry a sense of humor when others speak unkindly, cruelly and even falsely about you.  It is an American ideal to maintain a sense of humor about oneself and not worry about what others think and say about us, individually and as a nation:

“I go on too many dates, but I can’t make ’em stay.

 At least that’s what people say, mmm, mmm.  That’s what people say, mmm, mmm.

 But I keep cruisin’, can’t stop, won’t stop moving.

 It’s like I got this music in my mind sayin’ it’s gonna be all right.

 ’Cause the players gonna play, play, play, play, play.

 And the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.

 Baby, I’m just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake.

 I shake it off.  Shake it off!”

Class of 2020’s pomp deflated by circumstances

Dear Class of 2020:

We who came before you, who donned the cap and gown for a long anticipated commencement as high school graduates, sincerely feel so sorry you may not share the time-honored rite of passage and official welcome into the adult world.  But we are living in the worst health times imagined.  Yet your generation is tech-savvy and used to logging on to the world and maybe not too keen anyway with posting photos and video of you and your class mates in graduation regalia smiling huddled together one last time.  Perhaps being more worldly than we were at 18, a graduation ceremony may be ‘old school’ or jejune.  We older graduates are sincerely saddened by the unfortunate and unexpected turn of events in world health that ruined your senior year.

Some of my generation posted on Facebook our high school senior portraits, the ones for the all-important school yearbook: a heavy faux leather tome of black-and-white snapshots, clubs and organization group shots, candids of students mugging the camera or engaged in studious work and stage performances, and the pages of individual portraits that in the future we would look back on and fondly reminisce.  By now we realize how very young we were, babes compared to our image in the mirror today. 

My suburban high school boasted around 600 graduates.  We waited during the humidity of late May in a four-hour ceremony at the former Texas Stadium as each of us walked across the stage to formally receive a diploma.  The graduation ceremony meant a lot to me because I had spent my entire school years in the same town and knew a fourth to half of the class pretty well.  Through the decades, I’ve attended class reunions marking 10, 20, 30 and next year 40 years.  Most of my classmates are grandparents now, many retired, some living far away and surprisingly never returning to congregate with our dwindling numbers come reunion time.  And some classmates are deceased.

When I look at pictures of myself way back then, the age you are now, I hardly recognize that young gal.  I had not become who and what I am today, though at 18 I thought I knew myself well.  I was a responsible teen, always working one place or another, my senior year writing as a reporter for the city newspaper along with features for the school paper and leading production of our school’s annual literary journal called Scribunt.  That last year of schooling, I took shorthand and the required government class, both hard courses for me.  I took a class in research techniques and the required English IV.  That year I also had quit band to join choir.  I already decided to go to college to study music (because I thought I knew everything about journalism).  Actually, journalism had become all engrossing my last year in high school.  What I remember about my senior year is a blur of activity and no sleep.  I was busy all the time: writing and rewriting by hand then typing long and involved feature stories while either staying late after school or at home writing into the wee hours of the morning in the still dark silence.  That’s quite an impressive memory actually and a solitary one.  

If there is one impression I’d like to leave with the Class of 2020, it is this: We do not know where life will take us, so enjoy the ride.  This strange and sudden time in history is shared with everyone on earth.  Your generation already is used to online studies and homework, so maybe having to stay home is not so grueling.  It’s just that the fun and camaraderie of the senior year has been taken away unexpectedly.  It’s as if you’re already a high school graduate, quietly online with little fanfare.  Your senior portraits may have been printed prior to beginning this final year of school.  Maybe the senior ring and graduation notices were ordered months ago, too.  Wear the ring, and mail the notices announcing the set date.  You still graduate, having been given the worst situation but proving resolve to follow through to completion.  Congratulations!   

Many of you may want to journey on with your education through college or other endeavors, some of you probably already taking college courses to save time and money.  Very impressive and something else of which to be proud.  College was very important to me, and I was determined to go.  What I did not know back then is how higher education would mold me into a more responsible adult but also change me into a different person, the type of individual I would become today.  My worldview was challenged.  At first, I didn’t like it.  A lot of my classmates didn’t either, being talked down to by professors, learning big new words every day, having to study all over again science and math and writing and literature and history.  Didn’t we know this stuff already?  The answer was NO.  We came into college knowing nothing or very little.  So, don’t let that bully you into quitting or from even attempting college if that is your dream.

One early morning in August 1981, I drove off to college and though unintended spent the entire decade in East Texas, then a few years later ended up returning to the region twice as a newspaper reporter.  The college experience challenged my beliefs, which were a mass of assumptions and prejudices gathered in childhood.  High school education was a primer for the intense, mind altering and unsettling studies, revelations and epiphanies that come with college research and trial-and-error learning.  The whole experience was maturing, young adult years spent on evolving empathy for other people and cultures, and also dealing with anger in religious teachings and societal intolerance that always lead to bigotry and discrimination.  At age 18, I thought I would always be the same person, think the same, believe the same.  But education is like a jackhammer rudely busting up cemented preconceptions.  Learning takes place when the student has changed.

The other thought I’d like to leave with the Class of 2020 is: This precarious time in which you find yourselves starting to really live is not the end of the world.  I came from a community of impressionable people who believed in the 1970s we were living in the End Times, the Last Days they were called.  This was before the sudden and mysterious HIV/AIDS epidemic that came and stayed and remained a headliner every day during the 1980s.  Why did we believe 1979 then 1980 then 1981 were the Last Days—beats me.  There were prophecies about the alignment of the planets in 1979 (which I would later learn is a cycle).  Among my people, there was a lot of satisfaction every time Middle Eastern nations like Israel and Egypt worked toward peace because we believed the Bible warns every time nations cry “Peace!  Peace!” there will be sudden destruction (as if we should give up on peace in the world).  There was a pop Christian suspicion during the 1970s over scan labels, printed in futuristic computer font of vertical lines and a long list of numbers.  The labels were placed on every grocery item and clothing price tag and then all manner of merchandise as cash registers were converted to computers (which read the unified printed scan codes).  There were preachers and televangelists citing the Bible for prophecies somehow meant just for the 20th century: references to the wounded beast (believed to be Pope John Paul II once he was shot), one-world government and currency (large businesses were pushing workers into direct deposit to save time and labor printing checks), the Mark of the Beast (once thought to be required Social Security number then the merchandise scan tags, now microchips required in pets and perhaps humans this century), and all the earthquakes in diverse places (earthquakes and enormous natural disasters have always occurred on the planet; we’re more aware of them because of fast-paced news).  When AIDS came along, the End Timers felt victorious and disgusted with the afflicted, ill and dying.  The rationale was nothing more than evil incarnate. 

Because I was young, I believed what I had been taught.  I clinged to it for I knew nothing else.  Living in the End Times made me feel special.  After a few years, however, especially during my all-important senior year, I thought it unfair that I had to be living in the End Times.  I had my whole life ahead but wouldn’t get to be 20, 30, 40.  God!  Older generations for hundreds and thousands of years got to have fun as young adults.  Why not me, I pondered.

When the student is ready, the teacher will come.  That is Buddhist wisdom.  Asian religions do not believe in a Big Bang theory or an End of Days.  They believe the cosmos is eternal, no beginning and no end.  And I didn’t start exploring world philosophies until after I graduated college. When you truly join the world of adults, you are free to determine your own beliefs and to think for yourself.  You’ll do a lot more thinking and questioning and a lot less talking and asserting.  Our beliefs change and evolve as well as our minds, worldview, direction, passions and essentially our entire life.

In conclusion, rest assured Class of 2020: You will live through this time.  Go forth and enjoy your young adult years!  Your senior year is more special by a pandemic that disrupted life on earth.  There are many viruses, some more deadly than others.  They come and go, but each virus must run its course.  If we humans are to survive, we have to learn about this latest one and figure out a way to prevent it or control its spread.

You also have been the generation of Americans who grew up with perpetual war.  Know now that war is not forever, that governments cannot maintain war financially and more importantly humans cannot maintain a state of war emotionally, psychologically, and yes spiritually.  Our nature as human beings is to love, to get along, to understand and respect our differences, and to live in peace.  The many generations who’ve come before you and me learned these lessons, too, and so will you.  Take your time in life.  Don’t stop learning, and always validate your information sources.  Listen first.  Think second.  Speak and debate third.  And throughout life’s journey, celebrate each moment … which indeed is a graduation from the past.

Our moment of quiet desperation, shared with just everyone else in the world

Listen.  We’re all afraid.  Not of the virus so much or even death but of financial ruin.  How are we supposed to pay the bills?  Millions have been laid off, hopefully most with a promise of returning to their jobs in the glorious aftermath—a month, now two, perhaps three, by midsummer …  The only people who are comfortable coasting through this universal economic disaster are the ones with guaranteed monthly income like retirees, the independently wealthy, and the top brass who have the gall to tell the American people to stay home, don’t go to work or school, work online if you can (while figuring a way to pay the bills).  See, they’d never tell us that last part because they are so far removed from the common man, they have no idea the fear of unpaid bills and loss of home, auto, food, furniture and a mountain of other obligations can drive some people to extreme counter reaction.

Listen.  What’s been asked of us—to live without income for a few months while bills mount; to risk homelessness; to break the economy—it’s just too much.  A real war would be preferable.  At least it comes with combat pay.  Two trillion dollars, an obscene amount, somehow will not be enough to tide over American families for more than one month.  Why can’t they understand that?  Many if not most of the American people would prefer to take their chances and keep working their ‘nonessential’ jobs if it means food on the table, money in the bank and a roof over their heads.  But we’re not allowed that option, because the new virus with no vaccine or cure is so contagious plus our nation of plenty lacks hospitals, medical equipment, beds and trained health professionals to care for the projected hundreds of thousands who soon will get deathly ill.

Listen.  Hear that?  Do you sense it?  Prayers! Voiced and silent, with and without tears.  In every language.  Every person around the world is praying simultaneously for divine intervention, a cure, a quick solution.  Americans are notoriously impatient.  But we’re resourceful, too, and will figure out various means to survive: moving, dropping expenses, begging, borrowing, whatever we gotta do.  Pride has no place in hard times. We’ll find our individual resilience and collective dogged determination to get through this crisis.  Overnight we have been forced to rely on one another, family, friends, neighbors, and our government local and state and federal. The government really has done all it can do to help us.  We have been aware of an insurmountable budget deficit for a long, long time.  We’ve needed to toughen up.  Stiff upper lip.  Come on, now. Crying time’s over.  Re-arrange, reshuffle, toss in the air.

Listen.  What’s the worst they can do?  Kick us out of our homes?  Courts are closed and backlogged for months.  Besides, the President has declared no evictions during this pandemic.  Will they cut off the electricity for lights, gas for heat, water for bathing and life itself, internet in order to work at home and for necessary communication?  Maybe but doubtful.  In the age of social media, cutting power and water from tens of millions of American families unable to pay the bills would be a corporate and municipal public relations disaster.  And if they do cut us off, let us reclaim the intestinal fortitude of our backwoods ancestry who built this country.  Portable toilets if we have to.  Bread, water and canned food if that’s all we can scrounge up.  Candles and matches and flashlights to see at night.  Tents and towels for shelter.  Live along rivers, lakes and creeks if need be.  When there’s a will, there’s a way.  Besides the hard times are supposed to be temporary, extremely temporary.  Sleep on it, sleep in shifts, and ask for help: Salvation Army, major churches, food pantries and all the other nonprofits providing sustenance and relief.  The TV ads proclaim “We’re all in this together.”  Let ’em prove it.      

Listen.

Breathe.  Feel.  Observe.  Hear.  Taste.  Touch.  Think.  Read.  Watch.  Work.  Rest.  Walk.

At this moment we’re alive, healthy and aware.  We’re in control more than we realize.  And listen, folks lose their homes every day.  Attachment comes with a price.  Embrace what really matters.

Listen.  This sudden empty time we’ve been given, it’s like a gift.  Isn’t that what we’ve wanted throughout our busy lives, week after week, year after year?  Time to watch children grow and learn and be part of the process.  Time to think.  Time to relax, sit outdoors and watch each day as nature blooms fresh with beauty, contently swaying gently in the breeze, happy just to be alive … again.  As we gaze upon nature, our thoughts turn inward.  Before the crash, were any of us really happy, rushing through the work week, feeling tired all the time, tense about money because there was never enough and now none?  Instead, we’re left with this priceless commodity, an unexpected intangible present because Someone somewhere thought we needed it now.  Soon enough, we’ll never have this gift again—time to change our lives for the better.