Month: May 2020

  • THE TRIVIALIZATION OF TRUTH

    I see that spirit in the people of the world in the face of pandemic. We’re taking ourselves out of social circulation, for the most part, in consideration of the greater good. We have been given real facts by relevant health organizations. At great inconvenience and disruption of our lives, we have altered our standard mode of living in a collective effort to mitigate the spread of a deadly virus. This is quite an accomplishment in itself.

    While I do accept that the fundamental basics of what we’re being told about COVID-19 are true, I can’t help thinking the information about the ongoing statistics and the prospects for the future are being obfuscated. This may be partially unintentional, as it’s difficult to report on numbers that are complex and constantly changing. Out of desperation, the future can be looked upon with false fear or false hope. It can also be misrepresented to secure political gain.

    The scope of this article goes much further than assessing the handling of truth in reaction to the effects of the coronavirus. It goes back many years. Just how long has truth been losing its grip on the conscience of humankind?

    When Truth Was Esteemed

    In today’s Information Age, it is sad indeed that truth is so often seen to be unimportant. A version of the so-called truth is passed off as “alternative facts” by some of the most cynical. Throughout the history of the human race, there have probably been many times when truth was tossed aside as an inconvenience for those who wanted money, power or better circumstances of any kind. But it wasn’t always that way. Although there were no doubt always dishonest people, there have been many more to whom truth was greatly valued.

    Ancient Persian children were instructed in morals as well as physical skills. They were to draw the bow and to speak the truth. In the time of the Old Testament, the Hebrews made it clear that being truthful was part of being a good person and a follower of God. Aristotle called truth “noble and praiseworthy.”

    Thomas Jefferson wrote repeatedly about truth and often in regard to being fearless when it came to having the truth known about him. My favorite quote of his on the general subject is, “Honesty is the first chapter in the book of wisdom.”

    Henry David Thoreau shed light on the potential for erosion of the truth when he wrote, “If we dealt only with the false and dishonest, we should at last forget how to speak truth.”

    In an article titled, The Virtue of Truth, Reverend Professor J. Radford Thomson stated, “Among the morally cultivated, truth is regarded, not only as obligatory and as contributive to the well-being of society, but also as beautiful and admirable, and even as a mark of good breeding. On the other hand, untruthfulness is regarded, not only as always a vice and sometimes a crime, and as a sin against God, but also as a deformity, a moral degradation, and as a fault peculiarly mean and base.”

    What Went Wrong

    I submit that our commitment to truth, integrity and doing unto others as you would have them do unto you began to unravel with the advent of the Industrial Revolution. Its origin is traced to England in 1760, but it wasn’t up to full speed until about 1840 when it spread to other parts of the world.

    I have long suspected that the Industrial Revolution was a turning point in degrading our societal evolution. My research for this article led me to an excellent article supporting my theory, at least addressing the basics of how the Industrial Revolution was the beginning of the erosion. The article is titled Some Ethical Consequences of the Industrial Revolution. Written by R. Austin Freeman, it was published in the International Journal of Ethics in 1923.

    Freeman discusses the industrial arts of ancient craftsmen and how their most important considerations were “1. Function of the thing produced, conceived in terms of the consumer’s needs. 2. Material, conceived in terms of function. 3. Technique, conceived in terms of material. 4. Appliances, conceived in terms of technique.” The result was a product of high quality and durability.

    With the Industrial Revolution, machines became the key to production. This quickly led to adaptation to the limitations of the machine, thus lower standards and less regard for the consumer. Freeman observed that the order of precedence in production was reversed, as such, “1. Appliance used. 2. Technique, conceived in terms of the capabilities of the appliance. 3. Material, conceived in terms of its suitability to the technique. 4. Function, conceived in terms of the consumer’s needs.”

    The broker of the deal and the salesman, not the artisan, make the connection with the consumer. There’s a lack of pride in the product and an increased chance of fraud in the chain of commerce. As the decades and centuries pass, honesty and truth have become more and more removed from the commitment to the welfare of one’s neighbor that was so important to the early craftsmen.

    Freeman sums it up. “And this ethical atrophy represents the subsidence to a lower level of essential civilization. For civilization, as we have agreed, is based upon the recognition by man of his duty toward his neighbor; of which none can be more obvious than that of honesty and fair dealing. Truly it is a steep descent from the Ora et Labora of the ancient craftsman whose very industry was worship, whose handiwork was a pious offering, to the industrial magnate, sitting in the seats of the mighty and murmuring to himself: ‘Put money in thy purse; honestly if thou canst, but–put money in thy purse.’ “

    Conclusion

    The disconnect between the corporate giant and the people it serves opens the way for lust for wealth and power. The love of truth and justice get lost in the process. Thus, truth is made trivial. And here we are.

  • THE COMFORTING EMBRACE OF YOUR MUSIC

    Our lives are in some ways like a long series of novels or television shows that revolve around a few enduring characters and a greater number of interchanging ones as we move from one stage of life to another.

    We glide or trudge or plow along through the various phases with music playing in the background. Whether we’re “struggling for the legal tender” as Jackson Browne sang or “singin’ and dancin’ in the rain” a la Gene Kelly or we’re “on the road again” with Willie Nelson, there’s often music there energizing us, uplifting us or giving us comfort when we really need it.

    Life is a Series

    One of my earlier romances, when I was 22, wasn’t earthshaking on the world stage, but it was in my world. I’m referencing it rather than the one that become The One because of its various elements that had a “recipe” (Jimmy Webb/MacArthur Park) for drama perhaps unlike any other I’ve known.

    At the time, I was a lumber handler at a sawmill while I moonlighted as a long-haired, hard-partying wannabe writer and musician. I was a young dreamer with a low responsibility level whose ambition was dulled by drugs and alcohol. I wanted a relationship badly, though, when I was introduced to Carey (as I will call her).

    In my oft-altered states, I was euphorically listening to the likes of Led Zeppelin, Cat Stevens, Moody Blues and, of course, The Beatles. The music and the messages fueled my vision of elevated states of spirituality, of expanded awareness to which I attached central importance.

    Carey was an attractive 24 year-old widow with two preschool children. Her husband had died in a horrendous car accident that almost took Carey’s life as well. She was the daughter of a wealthy real estate broker who had a thin veneer of jovial camaraderie that possibly hid mean-spirited humor. While Carey was intelligent and charming in a mildly cynical sort of way, she was probably influenced by her ambitious father for whom she worked as a realtor with high energy and dedication. Her hard work had earned her a lovely house in a woodsy setting outside town.

    There was an evening when one of my best friends had his first date with the love of his life. They came over to Carey’s house after a movie or something. He would always have me play my guitar and sing some of my songs when we partied. These became part of the soundtrack of our relationship, as I usually had my guitar with me. Not that she loved my music, but I think she thought it was okay.

    One night when we went out in her sharp new Chevy Malibu, we were wearing the aura of young love, talking a lot, sharing likes and dislikes. She had been hearing plenty of my favorite music, so naturally she pulled out a tape that was in her car. “Do you like Barbra Streisand?” She held up the Stoney End album.

    I was lukewarm on Barbra, but I probably said something like, “Not what I’ve been listening to, but let’s hear it.” We did and I found it surprisingly palatable. I think she played it for me a few more times when we were in her car because I became quite familiar with it. It remains as a pleasant memory of my time with her.

    After a couple months or so, she started talking marriage. I wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea, but I very much wanted to be with her and we put it in our future. There were problems, though. Her children were pretty rowdy and had no respect for me. Carey was mature, strong-willed and relatively materialistic. I was her laid back hippie boyfriend, too immature to build an empire with her. One symbol of our basic difference was that I drove an old, big boat of a Chrysler. She wanted me to buy a Datsun, a Japanese car of all things. Funny aside, though, by the end of the decade I bought a new Datsun.

    More importantly, Carey was on an emotional roller-coaster. She was going through very tough times, still recovering from the loss of her husband. She was a young, newly single mother raising and supporting two high-energy children. Hard for my even-keeled personality to grasp. She would sink into a dark place off and on. I probably wasn’t much help with my music and hippie views.

    We had a four-month run, rocky for much of the time. After one difficult day, Carey said, “I think we should separate for a while. I need to think about what we should do.”

    I went along with this and told her, “Fine. Let me know what you decide.”

    I thought I could be cool, but the next week or so was unbearable. Each day was worse than the last as I awaited a call.

    I composed a couple songs during my exile. One called You’re Not Here bemoaned how we lost our way. The other, Separation Blues, brought out the ache I felt in my heart. Here’s one verse and a chorus.

    The minutes are becomin’ hours. It’s gettin’ harder all the time. I’ve gotta see you soon, I’ll tell ya, or I’ll lose my mind. O why don’t you come to me and one we’ll be and we’ll be free. O why don’t you let me know, if only because I love you so.

    I finally caved and called her. She wasn’t ready and my pressure pushed her into saying we should just end it.

    My heart was broken. I cried hard for a while, then took a drive out on a small country road. I was normally a slow driver, but this particular day I drove in a rage at 80 or 90 MPH while rock music blared on the radio.

    One of the best things to come from our relationship was an introduction through Carey to a couple that became treasured friends of mine for many years. I was best man at their wedding. The man of the pair was an excellent guitarist and he helped me record the first collection of my best original songs. Music was a large part of our friendship. They eventually split, but the woman remains a dear friend to this day and is one of my favorite people.

    Music is Magic

    Whatever we’re going through, good times or bad, music is always there for us to affirm our joy and ease our pain or provide whatever it is we need at the time. I’ll leave you with the words of Guy Gabriel, singer/songwriter and leader of Kindred Spirits, a group I’m proud to play with on a regular basis. These are some of the words of his song, Music is Magic.

    It can heal you It can soothe you It can rock you It can move you And change the way you feel With a single note It can teach you It can guide you It can reach you It can remind you And let you know things you’ve never, ever known

    Change your life in the blink of an eye Music is magic Take you higher and higher Make you feel so inspired

    It can shake you It can release you It can wake you It can free you And get you out of yourself For a magical time It can hold you It can change you It can mold you It can rearrange you And suspend all time and space for a little while

    Music is magic Change your life in a wave of the hand Saves us from what’s tragic It’s there at your command Bring you to the promised land

    Your Music

    From hip hop to opera, you should embrace the music that sings to you. It will then embrace you.