Notes for the 70 million

And how is everyone today?

to put it mildly

Well, I guess my magic eight ball failed me.  Which means I’m out of the political prognosticating business. 

My last post predicted, with great assurance, that Kamala Harris would be elected president.   A historic achievement for so many reasons but mostly for the sake of the future of the country and the world.

Oh god, I’m gonna be sick

Of course, personally, I’m not that noble. 

The truth is I abhor racists, sexual predators and people who brazenly lie, break the law and prey on the trusting nature of those less cynical than I am. 

Which means pretty much everybody. 

Also, as a Scorpio, another of my truths is  I have a weakness for revenge.  I’m not proud of it and have to work to keep it in check.  But somehow I convinced myself that shaming the biggest bully in the U.S. as a loser in the public square would be justice.           

Why can’t I just get what I want??

Well, nothing good happens when you let the righteous anger of revenge get the best of you. 

How do I know that?  Witness the results of the 2024 presidential election.  Seventy-four million Americans took their own palpable rage out on the other 70 million of us who were trying to take the high road for the good of their country even though many of us were quite rageful and revengeful deep down.  In doing so, they elevated a  bully to the highest office in the land, and perhaps the world, hoping he’d…

Make their world better?

Nope

Protect them?

another no

Beat up (Note: Or worse) the people they don’t like, disagree with or who look different than they do?

Get them some more money?

All of the above and quite a lot more?

Not at all.

I have ZERO idea. 

Here’s what I do know.

As a college professor, advisor and mentor with hundreds of current and former students in my life, I heard stories from A LOT of traumatized young people this week. 

  • Women in their twenties who were quickly obtaining birth control because they feared the next administration would outlaw their method, track their menstrual cycles and…much worse. 
  • Sad students I had taught or am currently teaching who have non-white immigrant parents and are terrified for themselves and their families despite the fact they were born here. 
It’s this.. but not funny at all
  • Gay, lesbian and non-binary students so depressed they couldn’t speak about their present, much less their futures, even in a so-called safe space. 
  • Trans students living openly wondering why they are so hated and others planning to transition who are now delaying becoming their true selves for fear of practical, and very public, retribution.
  • Very, very white students dreading Thanksgiving dinner with their gloating, MAGA relatives.
  • And across-the-board concerns, despite political beliefs, from all of them, about not only the health of the planet but their careers and economic futures under a president they universally see as a geriatric version of Joaquin Phoenix’s Joker. (Note:  Their analogy, not mine).
The dancing is similar but you know Trump doesn’t do stairs

It was hard to know what to say.

Not to mention, heartbreaking.

This is not the world they imagined.  It’s certainly not one I every fully acknowledged. 

Or had I?

Was this me?

This led me to the only perspective and advice I had to give, that I’ve shared in bits and pieces on social media.  It’s not a solution or a practical guide of what to do.  I can’t think straight, or even gay enough, to offer much on that score at the moment.  But what I do know is:

70 MILLION PEOPLE VOTING FOR SOMETHING IS NOT NOTHING.  It is the possibility of SOMETHING.

sigh

As a gay man of a certain age, these days I try to not dwell on key events of the eighties.  But like all trauma, and deep disappointments and losses, they are forever engrained in my psyche and have shaped me into what I hope is the decent, and mostly loving, person I am today.

Back then I thought it was all over after Reagan was elected and then re-elected thanks in great part to fear of “the other,” greed and Christian nationalism. In particular the latter (and Reagan) capitalized on a fear and hatred of the LGBTQ+ community, turned their back on the AIDS crisis and literally ignored the deaths of many tens of thousands of American citizens, not to mention eventually millions around the world. 

Welcome

A lot of them were my friends and peers and watching the mass indifference of so many of those so-called citizens basking in the glow of “Morning in America” made me sick to my stomach and uncontrollably angry. And, eventually, quite hopeless.

In those years I was convinced as a country we were soulless and probably doomed, not to mention completely morally bankrupt, and that nothing good could ever occur again for me, and certainly not US. I never, EVER imagined we’d get to Barack Obama. Not. A. Chance.

Did we ever deserve this?

But now our country has clearly changed again (as it always does), has to some extent been deluded by disinformation, has to some extent chosen racisms/sexism/homophobia and others isms, and has to more than some extent chosen to be guided by fear and delusion vs. reality-based evolution.

So we’re going to have to go through some rocky times, most likely extremely rocky times, before we get to “the promised land.”

For real though

Fortunately, the nature of this country historically – especially in relation to change – is that there are huge swings back and forth as we evolve.  It’s never easy and we often metaphorically, and literally, go kicking and screaming, but against all odds we manage to, if not get there, at least progress.  Consider, more than a century and a half ago there was a CIVIL WAR.  People you knew in the south were shooting at and killing those in the north they disagreed with.  There should have been NO WAY for this country, much less any country as young as ours, to survive it. 

Will it now happen again and include the Midwest, Southwest and Pacific coast states?  As I said, I’m out of the predicting business.  If only because I don’t even want to contemplate being trained in the use of a contemporary style musket. 

Though, if needed, I could, and will, certainly learn.

Meow

Our CURRENT SITTING VICE-PRESIDENT, Kamala Harris, said in her concession speech – “The light of America’s promise will always be bright – as long as we never give up – and as long as we keep fighting.”

Endings = Beginnings = …Well, that’s up to us.

It’s okay to be sad and depressed and to escape with your vice of choice for a few days. Then it’s time to start again, all of us, as so many before us have done.

Watch out, cuz here I come

And remember, those aged 18-29 voted against the Bully by a clear margin – over 10%.

That’s the beginning of a whole lot of something.  A seeable slice of hope in our always uncertain future.

Chappell Roan – “Good Luck, Babe”

Now You Know

Funny enough it’s almost exactly 40 years ago to the day of his death this week at the too young age of 91 that Stephen Sondheim taught me a life lesson I continue to live by to this day.

Predictably enough, it was while I was sitting in a prized orchestra seat of a then-new Sondheim musical, Merrily We Roll Along, listening to one of his lyrical words of wisdom.

Unpredictably enough, and to this day in my mind unfairly enough, that show would also turn into one of his biggest Broadway flops. 

Flop? Says who??

Though as one of a very select group of people in attendance at the next to last Broadway performance of the original cast of Merrily in 1981, I can only tell you that in my mind that production and that show was, and will always be, a huge success.

Profound.  Moving.  Funny.  Insightful.  Scathing.  Ironic.  Wise.  Deep.  Joyful. 

And smart. 

Oh, so smart. 

What more can you ask for from any piece of art?

Is it selfish to say more more more!!!!?

Oh, the song.  It’s not one of the famous ones, popular ones or even obscure, uncovered and belatedly lauded ones. 

Though it is the first act curtain. 

And its three-word title has immeasurably endured, helping me to process some of the very worst times in my life right after and long after they happened.  Then.  And now.

What’s it called?

 It’s called….Now You Know.

Me too!

A jazzy little number sung by two best friends of a famous young composer who has cheated on his wife with the lead actress in his new hit musical.

They’re divorced and he’s on the courthouse steps, having just lost a bitter and salacious custody battle for their young son.  And though his lovely, kind-hearted ex admits she still loves him she confesses she just can’t get past his infidelity and forgive him for the man he’s become.

So she’s moving thousands of miles away and taking the kid with her.

He’s blind-sided and suddenly devastated at the realization of life without them. 

What’s worse, it gets played out publicly in front of a slew of venal and vindictive reporters and cameras.

Very much the vibe

It’s that moment when even the heel-iest of heels knows they will never truly be the same, much less recover.  Forget about the rest of us.

That scene was set in 1966 and I was a recently out gay guy in my twenties with no thought of ever having a kid, much less a wife.  But boy, could I relate.

Me in the audience

Because it was about the type of hurt and devastation that in some way we will all be forced to experience, and more than once.  That time when:

a. We’ve f-cked up royally and at great personal cost.  Or,

b. We’ve had an unexpected death or perhaps devastating other loss.  Or,   

c. There’s been a terrible betrayal, to us or by us we can never get beyond.  Or,

d. We finally accept that the bold, implied or sealed promises made to us by others, or to ourselves, will NEVER, EVER happen the way we imagined.

We’re lost.  Bigly.  Big time.  And there’s no chance we can be who we once were.  Ever again.

OK well yeah, but also this:

Here’s what Mr. Sondheim had to say to that:

All right

Now you know:

Life is crummy

Well, now you know

I mean, big surprise:

People love you and tell you lies

Bricks can tumble from clear blue skies

Put your dimple down

Now you know

Okay, there you go —

Learn to live with it

Now you know

It’s called flowers wilt

It’s called apples rot

It’s called thieves get rich

And saints get shot

It’s called God don’t answer prayers a lot

Okay, now you know

Okay, now you know

Now forget it

Don’t fall apart at the seams

It’s called letting go your illusions

And don’t confuse them with dreams

Yes sir, quite a blow?

Don’t regret it

And don’t let’s go to extremes

It’s called, what’s your choice?

It’s called, count to ten

It’s called, burn your bridges, start again

You should burn them every now and then

Or you’ll never grow!

Because now you grow

That’s the killer is

Now you grow

You’re right, nothing’s fair

And it’s all a plot

And tomorrow doesn’t look too hot —

Right, you better look at what you’ve got:

Over here,  hello?

Okay, now you know…

– Sondheim, 1981

All the feels

It’s called letting go your ILLUSIONS, and don’t confuse them with DREAMS?

Are you kidding me????

What about, burn your bridges, start again, you should BURN THEM EVERY NOW AND THEN OR YOU’LL NEVER GROW?!   With the lyrical promise, written by someone older and wiser and infinitely more talented that,  that’s the killer…NOW YOU GROW??

Seriously???

Channeling this Meryl energy entirely

You mean, it’s okay to walk away when you’ve tried everything and it’s not working?  And there IS hope at the end of the tunnel?

But how will that work? 

Well, you better look at what you’ve got

Wait, you mean…oh…..your friends….who despite everything are still there and literally singing to you  —

Over here, hello???

Wait, that’s what it’s really about???

I mean, it still slays me.

GENIUS

How he knew so much, put it so succinctly and rhymed so simply, completely and, yes, tunefully.

It’s called devoting a lifetime to your art and never taking the easy way out.

– It’s called consistently mentoring generations of young writers for decades, despite your schedule, because in your teens you were lucky enough, through a family connection, to be mentored by one of the great lyricists of the American musical theatre, Oscar Hammerstein, and always promised to pay it forward.

– It’s called staying current with new work in the theatre for the next half century instead of spending your time reliving and pining for the good old days.

Always one step ahead

– It’s called daring to be bad, in your work and in your life, in order to become good.

– It’s called not letting it all go to your head and knowing at the end of the day it’s just you, your beloved Blackwing pencils and some paper late at night, trying to make a hat.

The thing about Sondheim is not that he didn’t know how good he was.  It was that he didn’t dwell on it, tried to do better and always knew deep down that he wasn’t perfect.

As he so eloquently stated in one of the short verses of the above song I didn’t mention:

I mean, socks have holes,
I mean, roads have bumps,

They make meatheads champs and nice guys chumps…
I mean, even cream of wheat has lumps.

#RIP.  From a fan.

Merrily We Roll Along – “Now You Know”