0121blog
Take It All In
I believe in metaphors and signs, like today, the day after the dark side retreated for the first time in what seems to be 100 years and the sun returned after a long, long slumber, I had to visit the urologist so this doctor who’s 30 years younger than me can stick his digit up my butt.
But guess what, my PSA number is down, now that’s a metaphor.
I am optimistic but I also realize the bar is not just set low, it is buried beneath the earth, subterranean and anything that even breaks through the dirt is progress. But that’s good enough, compared with the vile taste I’ve had in my mouth for four years and I wouldn’t have minded if the new president went to the dais and hummed “Om” for an hour. The idea of having no Sturm und Drang was so refreshing coming as it did on the heels of the master of Sturm und Drang. As my son said, the inauguration was exciting for its lack of excitement.
Biden certainly talked the talk.
“To overcome these challenges, to restore the soul and secure the future of America, requires so much more than words. It requires the most elusive of all things in a democracy, unity,” he said.
“Today we celebrate the triumph, not of a candidate, but of a cause, the cause of democracy,” Biden said. “The people, the will of the people, has been heard, and the will of the people has been heeded.”
“We’ve learned again that democracy is precious. Democracy is fragile. And at this hour, my friends, democracy has prevailed.”
“To all those who supported our campaign, I’m humbled by the faith you’ve placed in us,” he said. “To all of those who did not support us, let me say this. Hear me out as we move forward. Take a measure of me and my heart.”
Can he walk the walk? We will see.
However, I am concerned with President Biden’s age. He is the same age as my stepfather was when he keeled over and died, cigarette still in his mouth and as much as I loved him, I would not have wanted my stepfather to rule the land. He did alright as an old stepfather, he smiled a lot, had a good attitude but about all he did was smoke, read books and watch television.
I looked at Biden yesterday and I saw a very old dude and I hope he has some hidden, herculean streak that makes his age in human years a non sequitur. Not that the task at hand require all that much stamina, I mean, it’s not a big deal to reverse climate change, to neutralize the threat of nuclear war, to end a police system that somehow allows cops to kill unarmed people of color, to revise immigration laws to reward good people with citizenship, to improve health care so that it is available to anyone who needs it and to somehow bring back millions of people to the fold and to believe that Biden did, in fact, win the election. Mere bag of shells, mere piece of cake.
I realize Joe is just 78 and that is younger than Methuselah who lived to the ripe old age of 969, so Joe is really just a baby, comparatively speaking, that is.
It was quite a contrast, Joe’s age and the 22-year-old, youth poet laureate Amanda Gorman, who stood in the shadow of such giants who read the inaugural poem in past years, like Robert Frost, Maya Angelou, Miller Williams, Elizabeth Alexander and Richard Blanco. And none of them had to come up with a poesy that was at once optimistic and realistic, that saw hope for a nation that was paralyzed by a pandemic that has killed hundreds of thousands of us as well as give reason to hope in the aftermath of the worst assault on the nation’s Capitol that exposed stark divisions over the nation’s future. But she did it and if you didn’t smile and feel pride for her than you need to go to the corner of the room for a while.
Not to take anything away from Gorman’s moment, but a more appropriate poet to ring in the inauguration would have been Joy Harjo, the actual Poet Laureate and the first Native American to hold the position.
Gorman’s poem was titled “The Hill We Climb.” Excerpts include:
“Where a skinny Black girl
descended from slaves and raised by a single mother
can dream of becoming president
only to find herself reciting for one.”
And
“For while we have our eyes on the future / history has its eyes on us.”
And
“Everyone shall sit under their own vine, and fig tree / And no one shall make them afraid.” and
“being American is more than a pride we inherit,
it’s the past we step into
and how we repair it
We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation
rather than share it.”
How refreshing, especially coming as it did after a president who was a hair above illiterate or is that a hair below illiterate, a man who boasted that he didn’t read books, a man who was beaming with pride because he could remember the words, in order, “person, woman, man, camera, TV.”
Maybe Amanda should be president.
Here is the full text of “The Hill We Climb”:
“When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry,
a sea we must wade
We’ve braved the belly of the beast
We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace
And the norms and notions
of what just is
Isn’t always just-ice
And yet the dawn is ours
before we knew it
Somehow we do it
Somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed
a nation that isn’t broken
but simply unfinished
We the successors of a country and a time
Where a skinny Black girl
descended from slaves and raised by a single mother
can dream of becoming president
only to find herself reciting for one
And yes we are far from polished
far from pristine
but that doesn’t mean we are
striving to form a union that is perfect
We are striving to forge a union with purpose
To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and
conditions of man
And so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us
but what stands before us
We close the divide because we know, to put our future first,
we must first put our differences aside
We lay down our arms
so we can reach out our arms
to one another
We seek harm to none and harmony for all
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:
That even as we grieved, we grew
That even as we hurt, we hoped
That even as we tired, we tried
That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious
Not because we will never again know defeat
but because we will never again sow division
Scripture tells us to envision
that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree
And no one shall make them afraid
If we’re to live up to our own time
Then victory won’t lie in the blade
But in all the bridges we’ve made
That is the promise to glade
The hill we climb
If only we dare
It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit,
it’s the past we step into
and how we repair it
We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation
rather than share it
Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy
And this effort very nearly succeeded
But while democracy can be periodically delayed
it can never be permanently defeated
In this truth
in this faith we trust
For while we have our eyes on the future
history has its eyes on us
This is the era of just redemption
We feared at its inception
We did not feel prepared to be the heirs
of such a terrifying hour
but within it we found the power
to author a new chapter
To offer hope and laughter to ourselves
So while once we asked,
how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?
Now we assert
How could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?
We will not march back to what was
but move to what shall be
A country that is bruised but whole,
benevolent but bold,
fierce and free
We will not be turned around
or interrupted by intimidation
because we know our inaction and inertia
will be the inheritance of the next generation
Our blunders become their burdens
But one thing is certain:
If we merge mercy with might,
and might with right,
then love becomes our legacy
and change our children’s birthright
So let us leave behind a country
better than the one we were left with
Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest,
we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one
We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west,
we will rise from the windswept northeast
where our forefathers first realized revolution
We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states,
we will rise from the sunbaked south
We will rebuild, reconcile and recover
and every known nook of our nation and
every corner called our country,
our people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered and beautiful
When day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid
The new dawn blooms as we free it
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it.”