The Next Right Thing

Television and comic book writer J. Michael Straczynski once talked about being trapped high in a burning building. He said that if you ever found yourself in such a situation, you would eventually have to make a choice: Stay where you are and perish, or jump out the window and buy yourself a few more seconds to figure out what to do next.

I feel like I’ve spent a lot of the past year jumping out of burning buildings.

It’s easy to be overcome by adversity. Events are so big and we are so small. In the face of a rising tide of discouragement and disappointment, how do we keep our sense of hope and our determination to succeed?

Musicians use the phrase poco a poco - Gradually. Little by little.

In the animated film Frozen II, Princess Anna has reached the end of her rope. She has lost her sister and her best friend. She has just been confronted with a terrible truth about her family. She is alone and trapped in a dark place. She doesn’t know what to do.

And then she remembers the words of an old friend: 

"Do the next right thing.”

Her song echoes this sentiment:

“I won't look too far ahead

It's too much for me to take

But break it down to this next breath

This next step

This next choice

Is one that I can make.”

One breath. 

One step. 

One choice. 

Some days, that’s all you can do.

And that’s enough.

Peace Through Superior Firepower

 My freshman year in college, when CDs were first starting to become a thing, I had a friend in my dorm who had a stereo with a CD player and two really large speakers (which he called Gog and Magog). The music sounded great, and he was always careful about the volume level.

The two guys in the room next to him were not always so careful, though. They liked punk rock--a rarity at a conservative school like BYU, to be sure--and would sometimes listen to it too loud. When that happened, my friend would pound on the wall a couple of times and they would turn it down.

Until the one day that they didn't. Apparently they took exception and turned the music further up instead.

So my friend took the most reasonable course of action available to him. He moved Gog and Magog up against the shared wall, slapped in a CD that featured Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyrie", and cranked up the volume.

He never had a problem with them again.

Why So Passionate?

I posted a picture on Facebook the other day of a bunch of high school students at a basketball game. Most of them weren't wearing masks; of the minority who were,  most of them weren't wearing them properly. There was no distancing at all; they were crammed together like Vienna sausages in a can. I commented on these facts because the behavior of these students bugged me.

In response, I got one friend who, stating specifically that he didn't want to argue, asked why I was "so passionate" about the issue. I explained that I had health conditions that made me high risk and that I had a job that keeps me in constant contact with a lot of people (e.g., teenagers) who aren't as careful as I try to be. I also pointed out that I have a daughter who's nonverbal and that I can't take COVID-19 home to her because she lacks the ability to tell us if she feels sick. I tried to explain why this whole thing is a big deal to me.

All in all, it was probably the wrong answer. I say this because it immediately triggered justification on his part as to why it wasn't a big deal to him.

Looking back, in answer to the question "Why are you so passionate about this," I probably should have responded with, "As opposed to what?"

For example:

As opposed to being indifferent about it? Should I take the attitude of "Hey, I don't have any of those conditions, so why should it be my problem?  Nobody I know has died from it, so why is it such a big deal? Sure, I know people who caught it, but they all got better eventually, so no harm, no foul, right?" 

As opposed to being defiant about it? Should I say, "I'm an American citizen, and as such I have certain inalienable rights that the government has taken away from me"? Should I shout loudly for all to hear that I have the right to go to church (or to Walmart, or to the local bar) regardless of the pandemic because the First Amendment guarantees freedom of assembly? Should I attend rallies--not wearing a mask, of course--and dare the government to stop me?

As opposed to being blasé about it? Should I post on social media how old this whole pandemic thing is getting and let everyone know that I'm just done with it? Should I complain about how it's been almost a year now and that at this point everyone's either going to get it or not, and let the chips fall where they may? That it's time to stop "living in fear" and get things back to normal?

As opposed to being in denial about it? Should I go around telling everyone that this is no worse than the flu? Should I be blaming China for creating this virus in a lab, or blaming the Democrats for making a bigger deal out of this than it really is? Should I be disputing the CDC figures that say that this disease has killed more than half a million Americans, because those numbers are artificially inflated for political advantage? Should I be doubting whether COVID-19 even exists at all?

None of these viewpoints makes any sense at all to me. And yet I know plenty of good, smart people who have tethered their blimps to one or more of these mastheads. I don't understand it. And honestly, I don't want to.

I cannot for the life of me understand what this pandemic has done to us. The worst outbreak of disease in a century should have united us in an effort to eradicate it once and for all. It hasn't. Rather, it has fractured the already tenuous foundations of modern America even further than before. It has divided us, largely along political lines, and caused us to dig our defiant heels in even deeper. I don't get it.

Specifically, I don't get how this even became a political issue in the first place. I'm no political scientist, it's true. I'm an actual scientist. I try to look at things objectively, and to form conclusions based on data and on the recommendations of experts who have far more knowledge and experience than I have.  I try to value facts more than unsubstantiated opinions and fear-mongering and political oneupsmanship. 

I don't understand why not everyone does this.

But there is one thing I have come to understand: I can't change these folks' minds, any more than they can change mine. We are intractable adversaries, each convinced of the justice and righteousness of our cause. That my conclusions are based, as much as I can make them so, in legitimate data and proven scientific methodology, means not the slightest fraction of a damn to them. To them, those things aren't the basis of a sound argument; their foundations lie elsewhere. I might as well be writing in reformed Egyptian, because the language of my position is unknown to them. They could learn it if they would...but they won't. They have no reason to. There's no reason to try to learn anything when you already know everything.

And they will undoubtedly say the same about me.

So I'll do what I can do. I will continue to advocate for science as I understand it. I will continue to follow the guidelines set forth by those who have made it their life's work to fight diseases like this. I will continue to encourage others to do the same, and to point out when they aren't doing so. I will continue to call out dangerous and destructive nonsense when I see it. 

I will continue to do what I believe and know in my heart and mind to be right. Because that's the only way I know how to do it.

This is who I am. It is who I have chosen to be--who I have worked for decades to become. It is the sum total of half a century of educational, spiritual, professional, and general life experiences for me. And I am not inclined to apologize for it. 

"Passionate"? Brother, you have no idea.