BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE

     I read. I listen and do it all over again. My head shakes no all by itself, as the mind refuses to accept. All the while, disjointed fragments of song run through the ears, earworms, all testifying to the unreal world of today. It is as if someone gathered a playlist of every phrase that describes the crazy upside down world of the present and who knows about the future. The wise ones though, figure the future is no better than the present, for too much wastage, danger, irrevocable comments and actions have taken place.

So, as the old band echoes through my head with "Burn down the house!", I also hear a modified version of It's a Grand Night for Singing" - but the skies are not blue and the grandness of it all is apparent only to the liars and loyalists and criminals, oh my! That refers to the convicted, confessed and jailed, liars, spies, traitors, war criminals, tax frauds, cheaters, treasonous loyalists to Trump, rather than to the country who all have received pardons, used by that madman in an obscene twist of its initial meaning and use. 

Meant for clemency, for innocence, for timely recognition of a need and deserving of a pardon, instead we have people who kill others, people who cheat this country, people who willing betray this country - and who have already done just that - receiving obscenely issued pardons from an obscenely compromised illegitimate president attempting to stir rebellion in the country, initiate not only a war of words, but a war of flesh and blood. Indeed, and in fact, the early stages of that have already been front and center. That is the time and the scene for the arsonists to come along and intensify the fire that is burning down the house- our house! The house of Abraham, Martin, and John.

This land is your land, this land is my land - but oh, no, it is no longer that situation. This land, we are being told, belongs only to those who profess a hateful program, one where color makes a huge difference, where differing opinions are not welcome. One where sects, outliers of religion, force their opinions, foist them, upon others who differ and those people then become the "others", unworthy of their citizenship or of any stay in this country. Told over and over to leave if we do not like the present horrific state of affairs, the irony of it all would be funny, if not so sad.

The refrain of the song which iterates the hatred one group feels for another, in a seemingly never ending list of a chain of hatred, of incipient violence, tears at the sanity of a normal person. When the refrain repeats, "We didn't start the fire," it is so wrong. Perhaps we did not light the initial match, but we sure as hell allowed that fire to flourish, nourishing it. We fed it with growing amounts of anomie, of hatred, of acceptance of deaths, of blatant liars and cheaters in government, of corruption and cronyism to flourish, for incompetence to be the primary qualification for a position in government. In fact. whether we started it or nourished it, it does not matter, for without the cooperative efforts of those who chopped the logs, undercut the legs of the Constitution, who merrily rolled along changing this country, reworking its basic fabrics, who went along, knowingly, willingly, obsessively, spinelessly, immorally, with a madman - well, they all stink, reek, of that fire, that smoke, those ashes of the country raining down upon us. 

I so foolishly thought that after that madman and his henchmen were defeated in the election, life would have some semblance of joy, some glimmerings of light for our future as a people, as a nation. But those dimly seen lights began to die down, destroyed by life as we know it now. The apparent results of indifference to all others, the who gives a damn attitude towards those not of the privileged, even as these people were convinced otherwise, - astounding! Perhaps we were actually in one of the bizarre worlds found in the Superman comics, for that is how unreal it all became, yet tragically real at the same  time.

I wanted to sing of joy, of the bus whose wheels went round and round, but not as they rolled over people deliberately, hatefully, thrown under those very wheels. I wanted to echo "What a Wonderful World", be it sung by Satchmo or Izzy. I wanted to sing with hope, not only with wishful thinking, along with Judy Garland, about the land and possibilities that await us "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", to set out with joy and optimism along that Yellow Brick Road".

But it was not to be. One of my favorite songs was taken over by these most definitely not true Americans, and "I'm Proud to be an American" became a foul lie. I could not be true to myself and sing out loud, with pride, with patriotism, the national anthem, even as I had hoped I could return to doing so. Now, under increasing threatening remarks and promises of martial action, of "wild" DC protest on January 6, he attempts, again and again, to subvert the truth, to overturn legal and legitimate election results. This man has neither care nor concern for this country. He has sold it down the river time and again, so much so that the mournful tones of "Old Man River" sound loudly in the air.

I would love to walk around with "A Song in My Heart" but will not be able to until this man is out of the WH, the same House he has attempted to burn down, coming that close to doing so! I will gladly join Nancy Pelosi and pull him out "by his hair and his tiny hands and tiny feet" and to that I add his cold heart and his broken mind. And just look at the line behind me, all willing and wishing to insure that he leave, that we get started on the road to recovery, with sane politics, care for people and a normal and effective program to inoculate, to prepare for future pandemics, for they are a coming down the track, with hope and true patriotism.

That is the house for which I can sing "Bless this house, oh Lord, we pray", and I hope you sing along with me. If we start, return to the very basics, the harmony notes will grow naturally, with all voices being absorbed, participating in making a "joyous noise". And all Johnnies will come marching home again.

Happy Holidays to all, whatever  or whichever you celebrate, or do not - your right and simply enjoy the days and count down to D-Day, to when we can have a song in our heart.