Desperation be Damned (2/07)

Peggy Dylan

It’s desperate times now.

To get through life with any sense of wholeness, of goodness, of well-being,

to get through life with any sense of my dreams intact,

to keep my vision for humanity and my place in it polished,

is neigh impossible.

It’s desperate times now.

Everywhere I look,

out there,

be it smog over the valley,

or the greed or fear in people’s faces,

or the frantic, frantic, near hysterical doing, just for doing’s sake,

it feels like we’ve cycled back to the cold war.

The ‘duck under your desk’, ‘build a bomb shelter in your backyard instead of a swing-set’ mentality.

Except this time there is no desk and we all know now, now that we’re grownups,

that bomb shelters don’t work.

Don’t work, won’t work,

won’t work against avian flu,

won’t work against terrorists,

won’t work against dirty bombs,

and certainly won’t work against global warming, they’d flood.

As I said, desperate times now.

And you’ve gone and died.

You who’d twist the terror, the ugliness, the greed and unbelievable lack of caring

and downright stupidity,

twist it, spin it into delight and laughter.

You who’d polish that golden thread of truth with courage and smarts in Texas twang;

allowing relief to flood me, turning desperation to laughter, freeing emotional hobbles,

and sweetening the bitter cup of tea with earthy humor.

And now you’ve gone and died, leaving that golden thread blowing in the wind.

Gather, you told us, meet, shout, write, beat the drums, when you see injustice,

don’t let them silence you, you told us, speak up, be heard,

but above all have fun, you said, above all have fun.

I’ve decided to jump for that golden thread, grab on to it and let it swing where it may.

I’ve decided, in the spirit of fun, that you’ve died now because your job is done.

The tides have turned and the floodgates are open.

The tsunami, which is us, those of us who’ve cringed in horror, those of us who’s dreams have been shattered, hobbled by disbelief, wings clipped by doubt, these floodwaters of righteousness are going to wash this land clean again.

Desperate times call for desperate means.

I’m going to grab that golden thread and have fun.

I’m going to turn anger to fun, fear to fun, desperation, denial and despondency to fun.

Molly Ivins, I’m one of those tens of thousands who are going to pick up the pen, rebel rouse, be the loud squeaks in the wheel,

and above all, desperation be damned, we’re going to have fun doing it.