Live as if

When I was a teenager going to  Christian Youth Fellowship, there was this girl who was both very pious and very 60s era liberal. Liberal Christians seem like a weird idea now in this era of conservative Christians but “Jesus as the ultimate hippie” had a lot of appeal to the Boomer parents who were part of my Methodist church.

Anyway, there was this one time where, I don’t know how it came up, but the youth pastor (or maybe one of the pious girlls, not like quite sure) said something that has really stuck with me ” this as if you were going to live forever but die tomorrow..” I have since come to understand that it’s a misquote of something misattributed to Ghandi that actually comes from a Renaissance Humanist (I think, not important).

It sticks with me because of a Kevin Nealon joke on SNL’s “Weekend Update”  about this sentiment:

… And then I just waste the rest of the day

And then much later on in my life, I would think about how the Doctor mixed the last night of River Song’s life be 24 years long. Or an even earlier joke that I heard on “LA Law” but I have said many times in my career which is, ” If I only had a year to live, I would want to do this job because everyday can seem like a thousand years”

I think about how at this point I blog maybe once every couple of months but if we go back to the very beginning, I’ve been formally blogging since 2009, and I’ve been doing stuff like having my .plan file (it’s a Unix thing ) be blog-like since the early ’90s.  The entire time I’ve used about my death as if it were just around the corner. And it hasn’t been. And it won’t be. Until it is.

The most profound insight on this actually came for my daughter, who mourned the impending death of her cat for the entire time she was in college. But she graduated college and her cat was very old but still alive. She said that at some point she stopped being afraid of when her cat would die, and just be thankful for the time that she had with her cat.

To a certain extent being afraid of death is really about being afraid of life. But that is to too simplistic.

For you see, I do often prepare for the end knowing that the end is not coming but hypothetically considering what can it do to make the moment worth it. It’s just that, what makes the moment worth it can often be incredibly commonplace. Sarah Silverman does a stand-up special about how her stepmother and father died within 9 days of each other. In his last days, amongst the things that Sarah Silverman’s dad did was binge watch all the episodes of the Ali Wong series “Beef.” I have a close friend whose dad a terrible stroke that left him very disabled, and he spent the last days of his life watching “The NFL today”

This is what they mean when they say ” stop and smell the roses” or ” Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans”

A life worth living can absolutely be filled with ordinary moments. You’re not ” killing time” you are just living gently.

Which brings me to the point: for people my age, advice on how to live your life like ” live as if if you have been invited to a sushi buffet. Love as if you are a character from the Amelia bedelia books. Saying as if you’re a contestant on a reality game, show in a foreign country and everything you’re saying has been overdubbed into the native language.” What I hear, and perhaps it’s a Gen X thing is as if

“as if” is Alicia silverstone’s hilarious retort lots and lots of absurd platitudes being presented to her in Amy Heckerlings adaptation of “Emma.”

Moreover, for me, it tells me that although people strive to find the metaphors which give insight and clarity into the substance behind the symbolism in their life… Most of the time they don’t find metaphor they find simile

As if it were possible to find ontological truth…

S’yeah right… And maybe monkeys will fly out of my butt! Party on, Wayne. Party on Garth

Music that plays over the end credits.

The kids are grown. They turned out great. I am proud of them. I did it. Thank God.

I suppose I could die now and things would be okay. But, I don’t want to die. Instead, I am going to get on with the rest of my life and see what’s next.

Although its a cover, I think this counts as lyrics:


“I have answered three questions, and that is enough,”
    Said his father; “don’t give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
    Be off, or I’ll kick you down stairs!”[

Fight the relentlessness of evil. Teach history.

Outside of the United States, the period from Nov 1 to 11 honors “Remembrance Day,” and along with it comes the moral injunction “Lest we forget.”

In that spirit, I implore future history teachers to contextualize the racist fascist who got elected president in 2016, not as some sort of isolated foolish aberration but as a synergist metastasis of the worst evils that have lurked within the American ethos for centuries.

I’ve noticed the term “Trumpism” appearing more and more. It hits some internal notch with me, where I can hear a future version of my late, great, 11th-grade U.S. History teacher talking about “The Know-Nothings, Eugenics, and Trumpism.”

I remember, back in 1990, when my 11th grade US history teacher required all the students to come into school at 8pm to watch “Birth of a Nation” and then discuss it. Like typical teens, we were all grumpy about having to go to school at night (I guess there was an important episode of “Wings” or something). The movie was a shock: to the contemporary eye, it was absurdly overacted and transparently racist. But it was clearly a blockbuster movie-styled piece of propaganda, a reminder of the racist infection with the hearts of American ancestors and the entertainment that stirred them.

Below is a supercut of Trump appropriating and perverting a song written by 60’s era civil rights activist Oscar Brown, Jr. Trump has turned it into a nativist battle cry. Hear and see how the invective in Trump’s voice brings the house down in venue after venue. Every time, for years, there has been wild and unbridled enthusiasm. This terrifying approbation was the lesson my history teacher tried to teach his class.

Although there are calls for national healing: convalescence is a part of healing that can vary significantly from individual to individual. Lest we forget the symptom of our national sickness that has obnoxiously presented itself: Observe the cheering crowd delighting in this sneering monster at the podium with his brazenly racist aggression, and try to be realistic in your expectations for such ardor to fade.

In the long days, months, and years ahead, you will face defenders and apologists who try to push transparent and infuriating lies like “People looked past Trump’s rhetoric because they liked his economic policies.” Understand that your appeals to logic and reason are simply not going to sway that person. Neither will this person be moved by your appeals to some universal sense of humanity. Expect this person to shrug and just refuse to acknowledge a substantial portion of the 69 Million people who voted for Trump did not do so despite his racism; rather, these people voted for Trump because of the racism.

I hope that such apologists will eventually confront the truth and then deal with the shame alone. Then there can be remorse, amends, and reconciliation. Yet, I am resigned to the expectation that many will never make that journey and that the healing of this nation’s soul is a process not of several weeks, but of many more generations.

In the meantime, there is the teaching of history.

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.” Pr. 18:21

Because evil is relentless, so too must be the struggle against it.