Perfection and Tragedy: Got Catharsis?

Life's Tragedy

by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906) 

It may be misery not to sing at all,
And to go silent through the brimming day;
It may be misery never to be loved,
But deeper griefs than these beset the way.

To sing the perfect song,
And by a half-tone lost the key,
There the potent sorrow, there the grief,
The pale, sad staring of Life's Tragedy.

To have come near to the perfect love,
Not the hot passion of untempered youth,
But that which lies aside its vanity,
And gives, for thy trusting worship, truth. 

This, this indeed is to be accursed,
For if we mortals love, or if we sing,
We count our joys not by what we have,
But by what kept us from that perfect thing.


Ah, the tragedies we suffer in life! We all face times when calamities slam into our relatively calm lives and test our abilities to deal with harsh reality. Confronted with sudden and unexpected tragic events, we call upon our own will power and the help of others to recover emotional stability. Such disastrous events are commonly viewed as unspeakable losses and grossly unfair disasters.

Still, a human being must learn to "embrace" the unsavory facts of life. When I use the word embrace in the context of dealing with tragedy, I don't mean a person should "lovingly or longingly cling to" morose sadness. I mean, instead, the person must "positively affirm and grasp" the spiritual meanings of such events. 

Perhaps a history of the term tragedy will amplify my meaning. This etymology is deeply rooted in ancient theater.   

In its classical, Greek, dramatic form, tragedy is drama based on human suffering that invokes in its audience an accompanying catharsis (purification and cleansing of emotion) of pleasure in the viewing. This catharsis serves to relieve tension and anxiety while refreshing the spirit.

 (Martin Banham, ed. The Cambridge Guide to Theatre. 1998)

 

While many cultures have developed forms that provoke this paradoxical response, the term tragedy often refers to a specific tradition of drama that has played a unique and important role historically in the self-definition of Western civilization.

In fact, researchers led by Silvia Knobloch-Westerwick of Ohio State University have tentatively found what positive results affect people's spirits when they are subjected to tragedy. In the journal Communication Research, they present evidence that watching tragedy inspires self-reflection, which allows us to re-focus on the people in our lives we might otherwise take for granted. The melancholy emotions these tales arouse ultimately provoke pleasant feelings of gratitude.

“Psychological research suggests that close relationships make people happy and fulfilled,” they write. “Tragedies appear to be an excellent means to reinforcing pro-social values that make these relationships steady and meaningful, as they celebrate enduring love, friendship and compassion even in ultimate agony and suffering.”

Granted, the research deals with watching tragic films, not experiencing real-life tragic events; however, I believe the pro-social values of "celebration of enduring love, friendship, and compassion" is also a product of surviving a tragic, disastrous event.

To quote the research:

"Depending on your interpretation, this is a somewhat different framework than Aristotle’s famous notion of catharsis. This research suggests tragedy’s impact comes not so much from the purging of emotions, but rather from the art form’s ability to unlock feelings that might otherwise go unacknowledged. (On the other hand, if you equate “purging” with bringing repressed emotions into consciousness, the theories are quite compatible.)

“'Why does it take watching a tragedy to feel gratitude for the people and relationships that make our lives worthwhile?' the researchers ask. The most likely answer, they suggest, lies in a basic psychological principle: Negative emotions inspire us to think more seriously about our lives."

(Tom Jacobs, "Sadness Breeds Gratitude: The Value of Tragedy, Pacific Standard, March 15 2012)


I believe that with family and social support, wise people who employ faith not only cope with adversity, but actually find meaning and purpose through it. The person stuck by tragedies must choice whether to become overwhelmed by them or learn from them -- in having such a choice, there is prospective power. Even major setbacks can be temporary, not permanent, hardships.

An important lesson learned from tragedy: 

It is not a question of whether you will encounter difficulties in your life; 

it’s really a question of how you confront them.

 Paul Laurence Dunbar

African-American poet, Paul Laurence Dunbar, was the first African-American to gain national eminence as a poet. Born in 1872 in Dayton, Ohio, he was the son of ex-slaves and classmate to Orville Wright of aviation fame.

At an early age, Dunbar was inspired to poetry by his widowed mother, Matilda. The family was poor, and she worked as a washerwomen to up bring her children, but even then she always praised art work and she used to inspire her children in reading and writing.

Matilda used to recite poems and stories that she had heard when young and thus she always kept the fire going in poetry and art and this in turn inspired little Dunbar from the age of 6.

Since Dunbar was the only African –American in his school, he was often humiliated for his race. However, he rose to great heights at the high school level itself by becoming the editor of the school paper and president of the school’s literary society.

By 1889, two years before he graduated, he had already published poems in the Dayton Herald and worked as editor of the short-lived Dayton Tattler, a newspaper for blacks published by classmate Orville Wright, who later gained fame with brother Wilbur Wright as inventors of the airplane.

Dunbar decided to publish a book of poems: Oak and Ivy in 1892. Though his book was received well locally, Dunbar still had to work as an elevator operator to help pay off his debt to his publisher. He sold his book for a dollar to people who rode the elevator.

As more people came in contact with his work, however, his reputation spread. In 1893, he was invited to recite at the World's Fair, where he met Frederick Douglass, the renowned abolitionist who rose from slavery to political and literary prominence in America. Douglass called Dunbar "the most promising young colored man in America."

Dunbar's second book that propelled him to national fame. William Dean Howells, a novelist and widely respected literary critic who edited Harper's Weekly, praised Dunbar's book in one of his weekly columns and launched Dunbar's name into the most respected literary circles across the country.

A New York publishing firm, Dodd Mead and Co., combined Dunbar's first two books and published them as Lyrics of a Lowly Life. The book included an introduction written by Howells. In 1897, Dunbar traveled to England to recite his works on the London literary circuit. His national fame had spilled across the Atlantic.

After returning from England, Dunbar married Alice Ruth Moore, a young writer, teacher and proponent of racial and gender equality who had a master's degree from Cornell University. Dunbar took a job at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C.  He found the work tiresome, however, and it is believed the library's dust contributed to his worsening case of tuberculosis. He worked there for only a year.

At the end of 1898, his health degenerating still further, Dunbar left the Library of Congress and commenced another reading tour. He published another verse collection, Lyrics of the Hearthside. In the spring of 1899, however, his health lapsed sufficiently to threaten his life. Ill with pneumonia, the already tubercular Dunbar was advised to rest in the mountains. He therefore moved to the Catskills in New York State, but he continued to write while recovering from his ailments.  

In 1902, Dunbar and his wife separated. Depression stemming from the end of his marriage and declining health drove him to a dependence on alcohol, which further damaged his health. He continued to write, however.

The next year, following a nervous breakdown and another bout of pneumonia, Dunbar managed to assemble another verse collection, Lyrics of Love and Laughter, and another short story collection, In Old Plantation Days. With Lyrics of Love and Laughter he confirmed his reputation as America's premier black poet.

He ultimately produced 12 books of poetry, four books of short stories, a play and five novels. His work appeared in Harper's Weekly, the Sunday Evening Post, the Denver Post, Current Literature and a number of other magazines and journals. He traveled to Colorado and visited his half-brother in Chicago before returning to his mother in Dayton in 1904. He died there on Feb. 9, 1906, at the young age of 33.


The Poem "Life's Tragedy"

"It may be misery not to sing at all,
And to go silent through the brimming day;
It may be misery never to be loved,
But deeper griefs than these beset the way."
 
In this stanza, Dunbar's speaker conveys that it may be misery not being able to express ones thoughts and desires freely, just as it may be miserable "never to be loved." Yet how personally "tragic" would these things be?

After all, how can one who doesn't love or sing know any measure of sorrow in things they have never experienced? The opening of the poem certainly echoes the old question of "Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?" Yet the speaker confirms that a "deeper grief" than these infirmities exists in life.

"To sing the perfect song,
And by a half-tone lost the key,
There the potent sorrow, there the grief,
The pale, sad staring of Life's Tragedy."
 
In the second stanza, the speaker confirms that a purist who values perfection while singing finds considerable"sorrow and grief" in something as simple as dropping a simple "half-tone off key." The allusion to a song, a frivolous pleasure, symbolizes that perceived tragedy in life starts with a person's judgment of small, even natural, mistakes or accidents.

Here, as Dunbar employs his speaker to talk of "the pale, sad staring of Life's Tragedy," he sarcastically capitalizes the lyrical faux pas. Dunbar uses the proper noun to emphasize the folly of the singer believing he had committed a blotch interpreted as the worst misery that befalls a human.

"To have come near to the perfect love,
Not the hot passion of untempered youth,
But that which lies aside its vanity,
And gives, for thy trusting worship, truth."

In this stanza, the familiar concept of "perfect love" between humans comes to the table of judgment. With romance in mind, everyone seems to dedicate themselves to a Utopian fantasy of love and to feel obligated to find one immaculate soul mate to provide them unblemished reciprocal ardor. Any lover who is deemed to fall short of this ultimate "trusting worship" is likely conceived to be faulty and "untruthful."

Whether it be the love of the "hot passion of untempered youth" or the mature love "which lies aside its vanity," the focus of the infatuated would be better shifted from perfection to the limited, inexact rewards offered in reality.

The change starts with acknowledging humanness and accepting the best and worst of who we all are. And, any self improvement is a choice, not a mandate. Some things about people will never change and other traits may be altered by life experiences. But, who can judge alteration in another? Isn't the real "truth" of love is that we, the players of the game, are "perfectly imperfect"? To speculate the nearness of a lost encounter with a fantastic concept, be it missing that love by an inch or by a mile, is creating unneeded tragedy.

"This, this indeed is to be accursed,
For if we mortals love, or if we sing,
We count our joys not by what we have,
But by what kept us from that perfect thing."

Dunbar's speaker finally delineates the effects of tragedy upon survivors. The "joy" left to be experienced after losing fanciful wishes and unattainable goals to tragedies depends upon a person's concept of needs and wants. Some allow tragedy to become permanent grief because they believe hard times have completely "ruined" them -- in truth, they have been predictably overwhelmed in their wanting quests for the perfect life. Others, wise from their tragic encounters, become even happier to "have" what they have still left. All goodness in their lives becomes satisfaction and acceptance of imperfection. Falling, failing, crying, losing -- all of these things do, indeed, lead to catharsis and to gracious self acceptance.

So, we should sing and love and dance and play because the inherent insufficiency of our intended actions is unimportant. Our being grows with both the joy and the tragedy of our simple participation. The drama that results from involvement allows us to cleanse our emotions and to carry on.  

Lady Liberty's "Silent Lips" Cry, "We'll Leave the Light Off For You."

The New Colossus

Written by: Emma Lazarus (1883)

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"


Do you think you know the story about the famous words from this poem and the Statue of Liberty? It may surprise you to learn some facts about the iconic monument and the words inscribed there. Here is a brief history about poet Emma Lazarus, her famous work, and Lady Liberty.

Emma Lazarus

The Jewish Female Connection

Emma Lazarus had deep roots in American soil. Her ancestors had come here as immigrants since before the American Revolution. They established themselves and participated in the small but growing Jewish community in New York. 

Far from being "wretched refuse" herself, Lazarus enjoyed a privileged childhood in Manhattan. She was raised in the lap of luxury, but even as a child she exhibited a talent for poetry as well as a sensitivity and perceptiveness beyond her years. She was vitally interested in her family, her city, and her people.

A reader and a dreamer, Lazarus had the good fortune to claim Ralph Waldo Emerson as a pen-pal and mentor. Nurtured by Emerson and her family, she worked hard to became a respected poet recognized throughout the country for verses about her Jewish heritage.

In the early 1880's, Emma became aware of the harsh discrimination against Jews who lived in Eastern Europe, especially those under the rule of Russia's newest czar. Fortunately, many of these outcasts were able to make the long and arduous trek walking across Europe to sail in steerage, in unimaginably harsh circumstances, for weeks across the unpredictable Atlantic Ocean, to the United States where the streets were said to have been paved with gold. In reality, they found life on the Lower East Side of New York as inhospitable in its own way as had been the villages from which they fled.

Lazarus was so taken with what she would see, read and hear that she began to volunteer in institutions set up for helping these new "greenhorns," teaching them to read and learn English.

She became their spokesperson; they became her crusade. Already known as a woman of immense intelligence, Emma published articles in the leading journals and newspapers, Jewish and general. She studied Hebrew and Yiddish and steeped herself in Jewish history and culture.

In her career, Emma Lazarus had to contend with American and Jewish middle-class prescriptions for womanly behavior. These gender expectations included limitations on a woman artist's expression.

In "Echoes" (probably written in 1880) Lazarus spoke self-consciously about women as poets, describing the boundaries drawn around a woman poet who cannot share with men the common literary subjects of the "dangers, wounds, and triumphs" of war and must therefore transform her own "elf music" and "echoes" into song. Successful at that act of transformation, Lazarus found some well-deserved space in the American literary world.

The Statue of Liberty and "The New Colossus"

"The New Colossus" was written as a donation to an auction of art and literary works conducted by the "Art Loan Fund Exhibition in Aid of the Bartholdi Pedestal Fund for the Statue of Liberty"  to raise money for the pedestal's construction. Lazarus's contribution was solicited by fundraiser William Maxwell Evarts, U.S. Secretary of State and the grandson of Declaration of Independence signer Roger Sherman.

Initially she refused to write anything for the fund. But, prolific American writer Constance Cary Harrison convinced her that the statue would be of great significance to immigrants sailing into the harbor, and it was suggested that she write about subject in the context of her beloved Jewish immigrants.

Harrison later recalled that she encouraged Lazarus to change her mind by saying, “Think of that goddess standing on her pedestal down yonder in the bay, and holding her torch out to those Russian refugees of yours that you are so fond of visiting at Ward’s Island.” 

So, Lazarus agreed to try. Three days later, she had finished "The New Colossus."

"The New Colossus" was the only entry read at the exhibit's opening, but was forgotten and played no role at the opening of the statue in 1886.

Emma Lazarus' sonnet to the Statue of Liberty was hardly noticed by the American public until after her death. In 1901, Lazarus's friend and patron of the New York Arts, Georgina Schuyler, found it tucked into a small portfolio of poems.

Schuyler began an effort to memorialize Lazarus and her poem. She wanted to have its last five lines become a permanent part of the statue itself. Schuyler called upon Richard Watson Gilder, Emma's editor and friend, to help her. It took two years of red tape to achieve the work. But, because of the persistence of Schuyler and Gilder, a bronze tablet that bears the test of "The New Colossus" found its place on the inner wall of the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty in 1903.

By that time the statue had been standing in the harbor for nearly 17 years, and millions of immigrants had passed by it. And for those fleeing oppression in Europe, the Statue of Liberty did seem to be holding a torch of welcome.

By 1945, the engraved poem was relocated--including all fourteen lines-- to be placed over the Statue of Liberty's main entrance.

Until a 1986 renovation, it was mounted inside the pedestal; today it resides in the Statue of Liberty Museum in the base. It is accompanied by a tablet given by the Emma Lazarus Commemorative Committee in 1977, celebrating the poet's life.

From these beginnings, "The New Colossus" became one of the best known and most often quoted documents in the American experience. Children's textbooks began to include the sonnet and Irving Berlin wrote it into a Broadway musical.

(Felder, Deborah G; Rosen, Diana L. Fifty Jewish Women Who Changed the World. 2003)

Understanding The History of the "Gift"

In her poem, "The New Colossus," Lazarus contrasts the soon-to-be installed symbol of the United States, the Statue of Liberty, with what many consider the perfect symbol of the Greek and Roman era, the Colossus of Rhodes.

The Colossus was a statue of the Greek Titan Helios, erected in the city of Rhodes on the Greek island of the same name by Chares of Lindos between 292 and 280 BC. It is considered one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and was constructed to celebrate Rhodes' victory over the ruler of Cyprus, Antigonus I Monophthalmus, whose son unsuccessfully besieged Rhodes in 305 BC.

The "wonder" itself was over 30 meters (98.4 ft) tall. It was a statue of Helios, the male personification of the sun. He was imagined as a handsome god crowned with the shining aureole of the Sun, who drove the chariot of the sun  across the sky each day to earth-circling Oceanus and through the world-ocean returned to the East at night.

It is well known that French sculptor Frédéric Auguste Barthold, himself, created the Statue of Liberty with the well-known Colossus in mind.

But, many Americans do not know that he initially drew designs for the statue of a robed woman to grace the entrance to the Suez Canal. It was to double as a lighthouse and represent Egypt bringing light to the people of Asia. But Egypt couldn't afford to pursue the project and it was decided, instead, to make the statue "a gift of friendship from the people of France" to commemorate American independence.

The monument that was eventually created represents the Roman goddess Libertas. While freedom of migration is a significant aspect of modern enlightenment, it was not initially the dominant concept the statue enshrined.

So, few today people realize that even once France made the decision to give the "gift" to America, Bartholdi did not intend for the Statue of Liberty to become a symbol of welcome for thousands of European immigrants. As political propaganda for France, the Statue of Liberty was first intended to be a path of enlightenment for the countries of Europe still battling tyranny and oppression.

Also the committees supporting the statue in the United States faced great difficulties in obtaining funds to build the pedestal. The Panic of 1873 had led to an economic depression that persisted through much of the decade. The Liberty statue project was not the only such undertaking that had difficulty raising money: construction of the obelisk later known as the Washington Monument sometimes stalled for years; it would ultimately take over three-and-a-half decades to complete.

There was criticism both of Bartholdi's statue and of the fact that the gift required Americans to foot the bill for the pedestal. In the years following the Civil War, most Americans preferred realistic artworks depicting heroes and events from the nation's history, rather than allegorical works like the Liberty statue.

There was also a feeling that Americans should design American public works—the selection of Italian-born Constantino Brumidi to decorate the Capitol had provoked intense criticism, even though he was a naturalized U.S. citizen. Harper's Weekly declared its wish that "M. Bartholdi and our French cousins had 'gone the whole figure' while they were about it, and given us statue and pedestal at once."  

The New York Times stated that "no true patriot can countenance any such expenditures for bronze females in the present state of our finances."Faced with these criticisms, the American committees took little action for several years.

A ceremony of dedication was held on the afternoon of October 28, 1886. President Grover Cleveland, the former New York governor, presided over the event. On the morning of the dedication, a parade was held in New York City; estimates of the number of people who watched it ranged from several hundred thousand to a million.

A nautical parade began at 12:45 p.m., and President Cleveland embarked on a yacht that took him across the harbor to Bedloe's Island for the dedication. There, dignitaries made speeches. No members of the general public were permitted on the island during the ceremonies, which were reserved entirely for the dignitaries.

The only females granted access were Bartholdi's wife and de Lesseps's granddaughter; officials stated that they feared women might be injured in the crush of people. The restriction offended area suffragists, who chartered a boat and got as close as they could to the island. The group's leaders made speeches applauding the embodiment of Liberty as a woman and advocating women's right to vote. A scheduled fireworks display was postponed until November 1 because of poor weather.

Shortly after the dedication, the Cleveland Gazette, and African American newspaper, suggested that the statue's torch not be lit until the United States became a free nation "in reality":

"Liberty enlightening the world," indeed! The expression makes us sick. This government is a howling farce. It can not or rather does not protect its citizens within its own borders. Shove the Bartholdi statue, torch and all, into the ocean until the 'liberty' of this country is such as to make it possible for an inoffensive and industrious colored man to earn a respectable living for himself and family, without being ku-kluxed, perhaps murdered, his daughter and wife outraged, and his property destroyed. The idea of the 'liberty' of this country 'enlightening the world,' or even Patagonia, is ridiculous in the extreme."

("Postponing Bartholdi's Statue Until There Is Liberty for Colored as Well."  

The Cleveland Gazette. November 27 1886) 

Understanding the Poem "The New Colossus"

Emma Lazarus begins her poem "The New Colossus" with bold denial: "Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame…" This trope allows her a dramatic build-up to proclaiming Liberty's gender. The subject of her sentence is "a mighty woman" and the grand climax reached in line six designates the woman to be "Mother of Exiles" downplaying her mere size and, instead, emphasizing the morally greater concept of all-generous maternity.

 "Our sea-washed, sunset gates" is a mournful image combining the sense of expansive, gently-gilded western horizons with the exile's homesick melancholy. The new life is reached only through the sunset of the old one

This closure turns to fiery hope as the image of light in the sonnet becomes evident. Lady Liberty's torch holds "imprisoned lightning," suggesting Promethean powers. It is a beacon for the oppressed.

The “imprisoned lightning” of the lamp held by liberty is a reference to a line from the “Battle Hymn of the Republic”: “He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword.” These reminiscences of the Battle Hymn suggest a revolutionary memory at the heart of the poem otherwise full of peaceable intent. The statue's "mild eyes command" the harbor to liberty having witnessed many battles fought in its defense.

"The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame" is differently interpreted to this day by the poem's commentators. Some say the twin of New York City is Jersey City; others disagree. The Brooklyn Bridge was erected in May, 1883 -- the year the poem was composed. It is likely that Lazarus wanted to convey the thrilling new sight of this great suspension bridge, and that she used "air-bridged" as a compressed allusion to the wonderful "airiness" of the construction: therefore, the city is Brooklyn.

One of the most interesting lines in the poem involves the cry of Lady Liberty "with silent lips": "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" This reference blends myths of nationhood with self-glorifying display. It shows Lazarus' negative impression of antiquity building a colossus to commemorate conquering Greeks.

Libertas, the Lady of Liberty, was recognized in ancient Rome by the rod (vindicta or festuca) used ceremonially in the act of Manumissio vindicta, Latin for "Freedom by the Rod":

"The master brought his slave before the magistratus and stated the grounds (causa)  of the intended manumission. The lictor of the magistratus laid a rod (festuca) on the head of the slave, accompanied with certain formal words, in which he declared that he was a free man ex Jure Quiritium, that is, "vindicavit in libertatem." The master in the meantime held the slave, and after he had pronounced the words "hunc hominem liberum volo," he turned him round (momento turbinis exit Marcus Dama, Persius, Sat. V.78) and let him go (emisit e manu, or misit manu, Plaut. Capt. II.3.48), whence the general name of the act of manumission. The magistratus then declared him to be free."

(George Long. Entry "Manumission" in William Smith's 

A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities. 1875).

This line was inscribed on the bronze plaque by mistake without the comma after "keep," making the interpretation a bit different. It meant that the immigrants would be making their own legends in America and leaving behind the stories of their homeland. Consider the difference without the comma: "'Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!' cries she with silent lips."

Of course, the following lines, a direct quote from Libertas have proven to be the most memorable, iconic words from "The New Colossus":

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

The "huddled masses" image is unforgettably gut wrenching and narrative. It reminds us the refugees lived in slums or ghettos, in overcrowded conditions that would have been repeated at sea for the majority who travelled steerage to America. Their "yearning to breathe free" was not, therefore, only metaphorical.

In the next line, "refuse" is a shocking, unexpected noun of description. Of course, English equates refuse with rubbish. Lazarus forces the reader to see the exiles as they were seen by the regimes that despised and dehumanized them. For contemporary readers, additional images of homelessness and genocide will inhabit these lines.

The "lamp beside the golden door" speaks confidently of a guarantee, a vow for security and acceptance in a new world of American liberty. "Golden" is a reference not merely to prosperity but also to shining opportunity -- something to which the litter of other nations was unaccustomed.

Although Lady Liberty speaks with the grandeur of an empress in the poem's idealized vision, she commits to remaining a universal mother, offering home and hearth to the destitute, and the hope of a more prosperous future to all.


My Take

When the Statue of Liberty was dedicated on October 28, 1886, the ceremonial speeches had nothing to do with immigrants arriving in America. Lazarus' words, however, turned that idea on its head.
Thanks to her and her verse, the Statue of Liberty, the 305 feet-tall monument towering over New York Harbor, would forever on be considered a beacon of welcome for immigrants leaving their mother countries.

In the mind of Emma Lazarus the statue was not symbolic of liberty flowing outward from America, as Bartholdi envisioned, but rather a symbol of America being a refuge where those oppressed could come to live in liberty.

Let's not forget Lazarus was a woman who held little respect in the America in which she lived. She was also a Jew who recognized and fought significant discrimination and hatred of her religion. Although rich, her people and she had lived through much oppression to achieve their stations in life.

She would not have been as effective on behalf of Jews if she had not believed deeply in America's freedoms, and she could not have been as passionate a writer if she had not uncovered her own meaningful response to Judaism.

Over the following decades, especially in the 1920s, when the United States began to restrict immigration, the words of Emma Lazarus took on deeper meaning. And whenever there is talk of closing America's borders, relevant lines from "The New Colossus" are always quoted in opposition.

The important question today may be "Does (Or ever did?) the United States really want anyone's "huddled masses," "wretched refuse," "homeless," or "tempest-tossed"? 

Immigration policy in the United States has been rooted in economics. The country has relied on cheap labor to fuel the economy, and immigrants were ready and willing candidates to do work. Quota systems used throughout the history of immigration policy reflect the disposition of the economic and political environments that were present at the time.

As you look upon the Statue of Liberty, I believe it is fair to ask how much a grand ideal had to do with the construction of the monument and the symbolism we automatically associate with its copper, iron, and masonry. The history of the statue is just as telling as the struggle of Americans to instill and maintain true liberty. Perhaps ideals and monuments to vaulted freedoms must remain projects "under construction" in order to reflect enduring struggles and continued hope.

I Don't Want the "Used To Be"

Today, from my 62 year-old perspective, I hear people constantly saying "I just want things to be the way they used to be." These disgruntled individuals give me all kinds of great examples of "how great" living was in the past: they desire the past because of the lower cost of living, the better job market, the kinder neighbors and friends, the less stress and aggravation, and the less meddlesome federal government.

I completely understand the blessings of the past of which nostalgic Americans speak. I, too, often think about times decades ago when life seemed easier. In my recollection, I account I lived a good life in my own "good old days." I wouldn't trade being a baby boomer and a teen of the '60s for anything. My personal path has allowed me to reach contentment and look back with a smiling face.

Yet, I have learned finality, and I believe in accepting reality. My past has elapsed -- it has passed. It is gone forever. Period. No fanciful thought or theory is going to bring back any of it. God knows I would change much of what I have done if it were possible to do so. I regret past mistakes, and I realize I must seek atonement for my sins from a higher power. That is best I can do with any ugly remnants from my past. My good memories are merely memorable ornaments that decorate my resting thoughts.

Grower older with the inevitable changes that accompany its wear and tear adds a great measure of ever-swelling doubt about whatever value and meaning I am supposed to draw from my past. I feel even more inadequate to offer words of advice to lead a single individual on his/her unique journey. The only reliable advice I have to give others is to seek all valuable lessons that strengthen the head, the heart, and the soul.

In all honesty, from my present point of view, I don't want to have things the way they "used to be." That would be counterproductive to whatever monumental progress the Master of time intends. (And, believe me, I don't have any frigging idea what that "progress" could be.) In addition, any pining I do on "going back" is wasted time and detrimental to any future I have left. I need no such impediment to the flow (some days "the trickle") of my life.

Thinking About Time

The present has been defined as "an infinitesimally narrow point on the time line which is being encroached upon by what we think of as the past and the future." The present can be symbolized as the sharpest point of the most delicate recording laser. The present is so fleeting that we cannot savor its occurrence or digest its actual existence. Even if it could be recorded, it could not even be measured.

And, what is the concept of time that we call the future? How can anyone actually define such a stretchy fabric of fourth dimension? In our simple brains, the future appears to be a projection created by our past experiences stored in our memory. The future is an indefinite time period we believe occurs after the immediate present. Its arrival is considered inevitable due to the existence of time and the laws of physics. In truth, the future is nothing but anticipation.

The fact that the present which gives us the most real feel of time cannot be measured while the inaccessible past and future can be measured as durations strongly suggests that the way we perceive time is an illusion.

I understand I can study historical concepts of the past, experience actual moments of the present, and plan for ions of the future. Yet, I also understand I cannot effectively create time; I cannot influence its passage; and I certainly cannot say with any certainty what the hell it is. At best, I can marvel at the illusion of there being some "thing" in my life that I label as "time."

I'm no Einstein. And, he even admitted he didn't know exactly what to think about this stuff.

 "People like us who believe in physics know that the distinction between the past, the present and the future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."   

 -Albert Einstein

According to the general theory of relativity, space, or the universe, emerged in the Big Bang some 13.7 billion years ago. Before that, all matter was packed into an extremely tiny dot. That dot also contained the matter that later came to be the sun, the earth and the moon -- the heavenly bodies that tell us about the passing of time.

Before the Big Bang, there was no space or time.

"In the theory of relativity, the concept of time begins with the Big Bang the same way as parallels of latitude begin at the North Pole. You cannot go further north than the North Pole," says Kari Enqvist, Professor of Cosmology.

 (University of Helsinki. "What Is Time?." ScienceDaily, 15 April 2005)

One of the most peculiar qualities of time is the fact that it is measured by motion and it also becomes evident through motion.

According to the general theory of relativity, the development of space may result in the collapse of the universe. All matter would shrink into a tiny dot again, which would end the concept of time as we know it.


My Take

I believe we can and we should live better. I, however, doubt if living better means returning to the ideas and methods of the past. We should be open to change and understand that changing is difficult because we stubbornly cling to the comfort zones imprinted by our past. We can never return to the times gone by. Nature and God will not allow that journey. Besides, we have enough on our plates just figuring out what new challenges tomorrow may bring.

What we can realistically do is study the past. We can learn from it and build upon it. As trite as this sounds, we seem to do a lousy job with this obligation. Of course, if you do not believe that anything is worth a damn now, it is asking far too much of you to care about tomorrow. Some of you have read all of the signs and are thoroughly convinced the collapse of the universe is upon us.

One last thought -- I do ask that all the musical recordings of the past stay intact and accessible to old codgers like me. I'll do my time travel with my ears as I travel through illusions captured by that little laser beam of the present.

Precious Water In a Wasteful Society

Water

By Ralph Waldo Emerson 

  

The water understands

Civilization well;

It wets my foot, but prettily,

It chills my life, but wittily,

It is not disconcerted,

It is not broken-hearted:

Well used, it decketh joy,

Adorneth, doubleth joy:

Ill used, it will destroy,

In perfect time and measure

With a face of golden pleasure

Elegantly destroy.

Who can deny that most of us Americans care very little about water because, for most of our history, water has been abundant and good. But problems with infrastructure and supply are growing. The American Society of Civil Engineers estimated in 2010 that the country must spend $255 billion in the next five years to prevent deterioration of water infrastructure. We plan to spend half that amount.

Parts of America use up to 80% of their available freshwater resources. That means a slight drought or increase in usage will cause a water shortage.

How about the numbers of water wasters in America? According to Scientific American, America’s water footprint measures in at 1.053 billion cubic meters per year (that’s 278,173,171,133.1 gallons). Yes, China and India use more water generally, but we are close to their overall usage with a much smaller population than either of these countries. As individual Americans, (4.52% of the world population), we use more water per person than anyone else on the planet.

How do we use so much water? Easy. Keeping our lawns growing, filling swimming pools, not fixing leaky pipes, you name it. And the biggest water drain? The EPA estimates that 27% of our indoor water usage comes from the toilet. This number is even higher for older bathrooms.

10 Ways Americans Waste Water

1. Americans now use 127 percent more water than we did in 1950.
2. About 95 percent of the water entering our homes goes down the drain.
3. Running the tap while brushing your teeth can waste 4 gallons of water.
4. Older toilets can use 3 gallons of clean water with every flush, while new toilets use as little as 1 gallon.
5. Leaky faucets that drip at the rate of one drop per second can waste up to 2,700 gallons of water each year.
6. A garden hose or sprinkler can use almost as much water in an hour as an average family of four uses in one day.
7. A water-efficient dishwasher will use as little a 4 gallons per wash cycle, whereas some older models use up to 13 gallons per cycle.
8. Some experts estimate that more than 50 percent of landscape water use goes to waste due to evaporation or runoff caused by over-watering.
9. Many people in the world exist on 3 gallons of water per day or less. We can use that amount in one flush of the toilet.
10. Over a quarter of all the clean, drinkable water you use in your home is used to flush the toilets.

(Jon Clift and Amanda Cuthbert, "Ten Facts About the Water We Waste," 

Chelsea Green Publishing, July 29 2008)

Water, Water, Everywhere

Globally, the water crisis is much worse.

Water is our most precious resource. Simply put, water means life. We believe it is an inherent right, yet almost a billion people do not have access to safe drinking water and 2.5 billion live in areas without sanitation.

We, the populations of the world continue to pollute and over-exploit water, thus threatening our diverse ecosystems and, therefore, access to water today and in the future.

Water cycles in two ways:

(1) the first moves water from clouds to rain to oceans and back again,

(2) the second affects communities without access to water as this drags them deeper into poverty ana poor health, which, in turn, makes it more difficult for them to access waster.

While the first cycle rests in the hands of nature, 

the second rests in ours.

According to the Blue Planet Network, the lack of access to safe water is not a technical problem -- it is a human, logistics, funding and efficiency issue. The world has money to address adequately the issue.

"In fact, it would take 1/3 what the world spends on bottled water in one year to pay for projects providing water to everyone in need. (CBS News, FLOW). It is estimated that lack of community involvement causes 50% of projects to fail.

For every $1 invested in water and sanitation, the United Nations Development Program estimates a return of up to $9, depending on the region and technology. It is easy to understand what is most needed yet most cost efficient. "Getting clean water to rural villages is the most effective strategy to help the poor." (Christianity Today)

Blue Planet Network site link: http://blueplanetnetwork.org/water/
 

Water brings people together, not only geographically but in the sense that the water crisis provides an opportunity for the developed and developing worlds to work together like never before to pool their resources, knowledge, experience and dreams for a common purpose: to solve the problem and change the way society works.

Groups worldwide such as the ONE DROP initiative are working towards the solution. The movement dreams of a day when the people of the world unite to form a powerful river, sharing wealth of all kinds to protect our water and make certain everyone has access to it. ONE DROP believes global solidarity is the key to our dream of water for all, today and tomorrow.

ONE DROP site link: http://www.onedrop.org/en/UnderstandTheWaterCrisis/water-crisis.aspx

Consider These Water Facts

* Without clean water and sanitation, it is impossible to address poverty, hunger or AIDS.

* Almost a billion people do not have access to safe drinking water, and 2.5 billion live without sanitation. That means one third of the people on earth lack adequate sanitation. Consider the sad irony: there are more cell phones in Asia and Africa than toilets.

* 1.6 billion live in areas where there is water, but they can't afford to drink it according to the International Water Management Institute.

* Daily consumption of water varies drastically. Consider this fact: in Mozambique, the average person uses less than 10 liters of water per day, while an American uses approximately 575 litres a day.

* Contaminated or poor-quality water is the second leading cause of infant mortality in the world, killing close to 2 million each year. It is believed that unsafe water kills 200 children every hour.

* Eighty percent of developing-world diseases are related to lack of safe drinking water. 

* It is estimated that nearly 10% of the global disease burden could be reduced through improved water supply, sanitation, hygiene, and water resource management.

* Disease related to the water supply greatly impacts poverty. Those who fall ill cannot go to school (especially women) or work and are subsequently dragged deeper into poverty. Safe drinking empowers women and fosters economic development.

* While our thirst for water steadily rises, the water supply does not. During the 20th century, the world’s population tripled, but its consumption of water increased sevenfold.

* Where we use water:

1. Agriculture (70% of world water use)
2. Industry (20%)
3. Domestic use (10%)

* The planet is buckling under the stress of supplying us with water for the seemingly infinite number of ways we have found to use it. Today, almost 1.4 billion people live in river basin areas where consumption of water exceeds the region’s ability to replenish itself. 

* In the United States, 40% of waterways—from rivers to brooks—are unsuitable for fishing, bathing or drinking. In developing countries, 90% of sewage is dumped—untreated—into bodies of water. 

* By 2025, two-thirds of the world will live under conditions of water scarcity. (International Water Management Institute)

See What You Lost When You Left This "Sweet Old World"

Sweet Old World

by Lucinda Williams

See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world

The breath from your own lips, the touch of fingertips
A sweet and tender kiss
The sound of a midnight train, wearing someone's ring
Someone calling your name
Somebody so warm cradled in your arm
Didn't you think you were worth anything

See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world

Millions of us in love, promises made good
Your own flesh and blood
Looking for some truth, dancing with no shoes
The beat, the rhythm, the blues
The pounding of your heart's drum together with another one
Didn't you think anyone loved you

See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world
See what you lost when you left this world, this sweet old world

For the past 30 years, Lucinda Williams has channeled her perspective as a proud but vulnerable Southern female into a string of stellar albums, each of which weave rock, country, folk and blues so tightly that each of the elements seems to disappear. Williams is known for her deeply personal lyrics and penchant for perfection.

Lucinda Williams (1988) was her breakthrough disc. Williams began to attract notice for her distinctive style, earning critical praise for her self-titled album.

It took Lucinda four years to prepare the follow-up to her masterful 1988 eponymous album. Her reputation as a singer-songwriter grew when she released Sweet Old World in 1992. When it finally arrived, Sweet Old World proved to be every bit the equal of its predecessor.

Williams also penned the song "Passionate Kisses," which became a huge hit for Mary Chapin Carpenter in 1993. The song brought Williams her first Grammy Award (for Best Country Song) that same year.

But, her magnum opus, 1998's Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, sealed her reputation as a formidable singer-songwriter. She went through three sets of producers to make the record. It earned raves for its tales of heartache set against a southern backdrop, and it brought Williams another Grammy win—this time for Best Contemporary Folk Album. Ruminating on disappointments, fretting over lost friends, and celebrating the subtlest of life's joys, it was an obvious masterpiece that resounds with immediacy.

I do not mean to dwell overly on the richness of Lucinda Williams "suicide themes." Her writing is full of many other concepts, emotions, and imagery. Yet, the delicate subjects of experiencing a person's premature death and, subsequently understanding its impact on the living are present in some of her most popular compositions. These songs evoke strong, visceral reactions  Others have covered this work. For example, Emmylou Harris recorded "Sweet Old World," and one cannot listen to her version without thinking about Gram Parsons.

Lucinda has spoken about the impact of suicide on her songwriting. She wrote "Pineola" about poet Frank Stanford, a family friend who killed himself in 1978.

Pineola (Partial Lyrics)

by Lucinda Williams

When Daddy told me what happened
I couldn't believe what he just said
Sonny shot himself with a 44
And they found him lyin' on his bed

I could not speak a single word
No tears streamed down my face
I just sat there on the living room couch
Starin' off into space

Mama and Daddy went over to the house
To see what had to be done
They took the sheets off of the bed
And they went to call someone

"Sweet Old World," the title track of her 1992 album, deals with the death of a poet she'd met at a conference.

A mutual friend called with the news. Williams asked why. The friend responded, "Well, he was just too sensitive to this world."

"My immediate thought was, 'B-------!'" Williams recalls. "I'm sensitive, too! I'm just as sensitive, and I didn't kill myself! We all have our big, dark days. I certainly had my God-can-you-just-take-me-now-I've-just-had-it-I'm-checking-out-let-me-off-the-train-I'm-done kind of thing. But, you know, I would never actually do it. I just can't imagine what it would take to do that."

In that spirit, her song "Seeing Black" opens with this line: "How did you come up with a day and time? You didn't tell me you'd changed your mind."

Seeing Black (Partial Lyrics)

by Lucinda Williams

How did you come up with a date and time?
You didn't tell me you changed your mind
How could I have been so blind?
I didn't know you changed your mind

When you made the decision to get off this ride
Did you run out of places to go and hide?
Did you know everybody would be surprised
When you made the decision to get off this ride?

To me, "Sweet Old World" is personal, poignant, and so very telling of that which is most important in life. Notice Williams does not use material goods or status symbols as images of "what you lost when you left this sweet old world." Instead, she speaks of simple, soulful treasures left behind: each with a deeply personal human connection -- a touch of fingertips, a call of a name, a dance with no shoes, a loving kiss.

The listener can feel the undercurrent of Lucinda's scolding tone: "See what you lost...." Her mixed emotions of pining for the deceased, regretting his decision to commit an irreversible act, and simply wondering why he couldn't have overcome what others find the means to defeat is righteous, and it forces the listener to witness the complexity of dealing with the shocking, premature finality of suicide.

"Didn't you think you were worth anything?"

Williams uses the word worth in terms of the man's value to others as a human being, not in respect to his significant, egotistical "worth," or market and material value. She questions his ability to find happiness while on earth while suspecting he misjudged what was most important to sustaining hopefulness and spiritual prosperity in life.

It appears Lucinda is sharing her understanding of the life-sustaining power of being unconventional in a conventional world. She writes: "Looking for some truth, dancing with no shoes / The beat, the rhythm, the blues." Notice the lyrics do not say "finding truth." Williams' realistic words call attention to the importance of the hunt, dealing with struggles and accepting that the inherent, powerful rhythms of life sustain the search for love.

What is the essence of life and love and happiness? I'm not sure anyone can philosophize and save the life of a depressed soul who finds himself completely alone, defeated, and lost. How does a professional reinstall the necessary love and the important rhythms that drive the heart and soul with some scholarly words?

Brain-balancing chemicals can help provide maintenance and serve as a substitute for natural purpose and love, but those drugs also alter the mind as they keep a suicide victim above the flat line. Thanks to treatment, the feelings dull and the rhythms fade.

To survive, the person who "fears life" must find, within himself, the simple joys he has locked away from his existence. I doubt if anyone who experiences the connection of "the pounding of your heart's drum together with another one" will choose to leave that love or his life. Johnny Cash once sang it like this: "Flesh and blood need flesh and blood, and you're the one I need."

"Didn't you think anyone loved you?"

The answer to the question in the final lines of "Sweet Old World" is evident. The suicide victim did not "think" about the "love" he possessed but lost when he took his own life. Others did love him but he didn't "think." You see, before he died, he had already lost the faculties to understand anything "sweet," or anything remotely gratifying, because his own flesh and blood could no longer taste the steady drive of the palatable sensation.

American Dreamers and Other Middle-Class Sustainers

I have grudgingly become too much of a realist to believe in a "dream life." The fact is I couldn't begin to define it anyway. I like to think I have tasted the proverbial "American Dream," the national ethos of the United States, but as I grow older and consider that the dream includes not only  opportunity for prosperity and success but also upward social mobility achieved through hard work, I question its honest availability in a world consumed with measures of egotistical worth based on scandalous monetary gains and the brute acquisition of power.

In his famous definition of the American Dream, James Truslow Adams in 1931, wrote "life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement" regardless of social class or circumstances of birth.

Even though the country was experiencing the Great Depression when Adams penned these optimistic words, the populace still believed then that their undying initiative and labor would eventually place them in a viable, middle-class "dream" between the extremely rich and the unfortunate poor -- an "American" dream that fit their great expectations of just enough prosperity for happiness.

It is worth noting that the idea of the American Dream is rooted in the United States Declaration of Independence that was written by well-to-do individuals, many of whom believed in and profited from slavery, who proclaimed that "all men are created equal" and that they are "endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights" including "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Maybe, from the start of the American Revolution, the founding fathers intended the nation to be a capitalist reality of "haves" and "have nots." There was definitely a disturbing gap between their lofty words and their daily actions. They were great, determined men with outstanding visions without whom our nation may have never come to greatness, yet today we can see the artful hypocrisy they manipulated and practiced.

I do not believe in the traditional view of the American dream life. I believe in the struggle of the "sustain" life. The so-called "middle class" existence is dead and decaying -- hard work has been processed to places like Mexico, China, and Indonesia. The top dogs of industry and commerce continue to sell out for higher profits. Decent jobs with decent wages and, let's not forget adequate benefits, are practically nonexistent.

People now argue that making good money is dependent upon educations in technology and in scholarly professions dependent upon critical skills and immense intelligence. Unfortunately, not all those "middle-class dreamers" possess the money or the intelligence to school themselves in these fields.

The vast majority of prospective American laborers stand idle. If they go to college, they owe; if they find meager employment after schooling, they owe; if they move out or marry or have children or breathe, they owe. Underemployed and largely untried by the work force, they lack the critical experience to become the cure, to become the means to a new, important American dream.

Instead, at best, modern dreamers join the ranks of the "sustainers." They work part-time employment without as much as decent health benefits. Living hand to mouth with spiraling debt, they rent to own and keep their heads just a little above water. For Christ's sake, many well-meaning Moms and Dads usher new children into lives supported by weak wages and government assistance. The beat goes on while the rich get substantially richer and the poor are pushed ever deeper under the boots of uncaring corporate giants.

I strongly believe middle-class working people need a better future. I know they can restore the country through hard work and their own initiative once they are given a fair opportunity. The question is whether American industry is willing to invest in their own best human resources. Must maximum profit always be the bottom line?

A dream is a human concept rooted in a measure of reality. Most people have lost the ability to envisage the worthwhile future attainments of their hard work while suffering through the bare sustenance offered by their service jobs. They cannot adequately build a dream for tomorrow while working for minimum wages and living paycheck to paycheck. The reality faced by the middle class is that work equates to simply sustaining existence.

Couple this certainty with the belief that happiness is dependent upon stacks of money that purchase endless hours of mindless pleasure and the new world picture comes into better focus: "No good jobs pay no good money to buy no good life." It seems all of middle-class America sings a new anthem: "I Can't Get No Satisfaction."

Yet, even "satisfaction" is a conditional state. No wonder immigrants still find America a land of opportunity. They land on our shores and surprisingly see a better lifestyle than to which they are accustomed. They consider the work to "get there" within their grasp, within their perspective of a fair dream. Every imagined ideal has the power to evoke creativity and to spawn novel ideas. In our decaying economy, their dream of relative prosperity still breathes. Many work hard and many achieve.

At one time American pride meant working to produce utensils for our food, clothing for our bodies, toys for our children, and steel for our automobiles. Now, our labor is not at the roots of our pride. Our lives are centered on buying and consuming cheap goods from far away places. In fact, we pride ourselves on finding bargains and working less to somehow defeat a broken system. We have become "sustainers," not believers in ourselves, and certainly not American dreamers.

So, in the struggle of "sustain life" mode are we able to cope with changes while building new and better lives? It has been done before. James Adams and those others who lived through the Great Depression built new dreams on meager sustenance. I am of the opinion that in order to forge a new direction we must first re-prioritize the needs of an American dreamer.

We who strive to be middle-class Americans must define just what comprises our wholesome needs and our sufficient comforts. This may require us to realize that "smaller" is better rather to live with constant desires and demands of "bigger" is better. The quality of employment surely matters little if the employed squander their paychecks and lives on frivolous material possessions and instant pleasures. Likewise, these materialistic employees will take little pride in their actual work.

Yes, I firmly believe the working middle-class must demand better wages and better jobs while they upgrade their efforts to find great benefit in their active labor. Also, we need American companies based in America hiring workers here to provide a new standard of quality goods and services we need. We must reinstate belief and work out any problems in production in order to "do it here" so that the standard of living for Americans skyrockets. Granted, it will cost and hurt companies "like hell" but building big dreams doesn't come cheap.

Whether you dwelt in the sprawling estate of Monticello with a secret-lover named Sally Hemings or now live in a tenement of dissolute, eroded Detroit, you should understand that shadows are built into the ideology of the dream that equates to living and working a good life in America. The American Dream has always been fraught with imperfection. Give me a break. Consider the vaulted Declaration:

"All men are created equal and that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable Rights including life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."

Take that sentiment to the employment office or to city hall or to a court of justice and see the truth for yourself. The noble foundations of our American Dream will show cracks and fractures of its structure. Money, position, and power continue to chip away at the justice and continue to reveal a reality short of great and grand ideals.

The American Dream eludes those who call themselves "the middle class." The Dream of Sustaining is here. Not as comforting as the latter, "sustaining" here in America is still much better than life elsewhere. The shame is that we know better and have the resources to work better. We just need dedicated leaders and CEO's and workers to make realities.

Rust Belt Fields

by Slaid Cleaves and Rod Picott

This is my town
Out in the rust belt fields
We were bangin’ out Buicks
And Oldsmobiles
There was always a job
And the money was there
Some say we got a little lazy
Nobody seemed to care

But they figured it out
And shipped the elbow grease
Down to Mexico
And off to the Chinese
And I learned a little something
‘Bout how things are
No one remembers your name
Just for working hard

Drove into the ground
Till your factory’s cold
Then they tear it all down
And the parts get sold
Come the bankers now
Pickin’ over the bones
I got three more neighbors now
‘Bout to lose their homes

‘Cause they figured it out
And shipped the elbow grease
Down to Mexico
And off to the Chinese
And I learned a little something
‘Bout how things are
No one gets a bonus
For bloody knuckles and scars
No one remembers your name
Just for working hard

There’s a casino boat
It’s up around Boon
Think I’ll buy me a bottle
And a motel room
Put all I have left
On a little black square
Risk it all like the big boys
Like I don’t even care

They’ll drive you into the ground
Till your engine’s cold
Call in the auctioneer
As the banks foreclose
And I learned a little something
‘Bout how things are
No one gets a bonus
For bloody knuckles and scars
No one remembers your name
Just for working hard


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Spreading Love: A Vigil for Megan and a Nameless Cat

Thursday evening I attended the candlelight vigil held at Millbrook Park in New Boston as a promise for the return of 25 year-old Megan Lancaster, who has been missing since the first week in April. No news has surfaced about Megan's whereabouts. Of course, by now, I knew almost all of the those in the small crowd of family and friends who gathered to keep faith and hope alive. I have attended many activities planned by the family. They have worked so hard to do everything possible to find Megan.

Amid somber visages, voices of concern and comfort bound us all together in the pledge to keep searching for Megan. We lit candles to illumine the path home, and we did our best to keep them from being extinguished by the warm, swirling summer breeze. People read uplifting poems and offered beautiful prayers during the thoughtful vigil.

It was uplifting to see people doing their very best to come to terms with the loneliness and heartache that had broken into their lives. I saw smiles emerge from many faces. Some spoke openly of their reliance upon others and upon the Almighty, gifts of acceptance and kindness so appreciated in dark hours. The children in attendance played and ran is the last rays of sunlight -- fitting reminders than life goes on despite closure.

After the vigil, I walked a short distance through the park toward my car. I thought about life and people and loss. It occurred to me we all need love. Not just the love of a spouse or the love of a family, but we also desperately need love from casual acquaintances, and we even need love from complete strangers. Not only do we need this mutual love, but also we need to give and receive the love with large measures of respect.

What value does life hold without faith in love? No matter our net worth or our class, we are hollow without friends and the belief that other people will share reciprocal kindness in a loving world. Despite our anger and disgust with a society that seems to honor nothing but survival of the fittest, we must increase our interaction with newcomers and outsiders to benefit ourselves and our own kin.

This thing that everyone really already knows and that I have believed forever clobbered me between the eyes as I was walking on the path to my automobile, yet, this time, it struck me in crystalline, forthright, explicit terms:

"We all have to make ourselves show 

much more love to everyone else."

I reached my car, turned the ignition and began to drive back home. Still pondering what you, by now, consider to be trite and meaningless dribble from an old, John-Lennon-schooled fart, I turned on my signal and slowed to a stop at Dorman Drive, preparing to make the left-turn home.

I saw a car stopped on Dorman at the intersection, and found myself, at first, dumbfounded by a middle-aged lady quickly emerging from the vehicle. She was very distraught, her distorted face on the verge of tears, frantically speaking into a cell phone. As she continued her animated conversation, she walked forward toward an object lying in the street directly in front of her car.

My eyes were drawn to a sight that instantly shook me into complete reality. There, lying silent and motionless except for its small chest surging rhythmically up and down in its final heartbeats was a beautiful, caramel-colored cat. Obviously someone's well-kept, tawny pet, the animal was intact and seemingly unmarked, yet a steady, ever-growing stream of the reddest red ran from somewhere beneath it onto the hard pavement.

I knew the cat had been hit by a car and was dying. I wondered whether the lady I saw had accidentally hit the pet herself or whether she had stopped to attempt to give aid to the animal. I drove by her and the cat slowly without saying a word. I really didn't know what to do to offer any remedy. The animal didn't appear to be suffering, but it was evident it was unconscious and bleeding to death. I felt horror but I slowly drove on home.

The vivid, tragic image of the poor cat is now firmly planted in my memory, a haunting reminder of the fragility of all beautiful living things. To me, the fact that I had not witnessed the accident is a blessing. Yet, I must have arrived on the scene just seconds after the cat had been hit.

In the aftermath, framed by black asphalt in distinct contrast lay an eloquent, now helpless, creation of God. I realized I couldn't bear to stop and see it expire. I was frightened -- not by the carnage but by the absolute, inevitable expiration of this living thing. I felt guilty that I could not bear to witness its end. Hell, I felt as if I should have known its name. I had never set eyes on this animal, yet I knew I wanted it to spring to life.

Maybe, hope against all hope, the cat lived, saved by the lady and a skilled vet, but I knew the truth was that someone had to pick up its lifeless, bloody carcass from the street, and someone would be sobbing uncontrollably when they discovered their beautiful, loving pet was dead. The horrors of the tragedy would continue to disperse like the blood I had seen flowing from the animal's still-beating heart.

Was my witness to this sight serendipity? Did God intend that I see this awful thing as I left the vigil? Of course, you are now convinced that this old man is totally wacky. And, I may be crazy, at least to a great degree.

Nevertheless, the sight of the dying feline made me focus even more on the nature of humans. We, as beings that love, care for other living creatures -- people, animals, pets. I believe only the most heartless individuals care nothing about the living. To see life extinguished by accident is nearly unbearable. To extinguish life on purpose without reason is inhuman. Our work is to stop the inhumanity.

"We all have to make ourselves show 

much more love to everyone else."

The misery of loss can only be relieved by love. Loss and death stain all our minds with indelible, dark images that can only be lightened by the love, concern, and dignity others freely offer to us. Reality loads us all with many heavy burdens to carry. Perhaps our most important mission as a human being is to spread our love, much like a faithful and trusting pet, to all those around us. And, I, reminded by the cat that now occupies a space in my brain, believe we should do it immediately before our own untimely demise.

More candles must light the way for Megan. Call me crazy, but a cat with a glowing halo just "told me so." And a young man named Garrett Maloney was petting the animal when it spoke. All you have to do is believe this is true and spread your love.