It is 1:08 PM. I am sitting on the bed, unwashed, unshaven, wearing only the clothes I wore to take the dog out to pee a few hours ago. Now the dog lies between Louise and me as we while away our lives, enjoying a slow day of loafing.
Running through my head is an old Mormon hymn, now slightly revised: "Have I Done Any Good?" Text and music by Will L. Johnson (1847-1909). Verse one asks a question: "Have I done any good in the world today?" As if we are not beaten enough with this first line, the Mr. Johnson continues his thrashing:
Have I helped anyone in need?
Have I cheered up the sad
And made someone feel glad?
If not I have failed indeed.
It is my belief, without hard evidence, that this single man, Will L. Johnson, with his rotten little verses, has added more depression and neuroses to my religious community than any scripture or sermon could possibly have done. But wait. He wends his way to the last brutal verse, condemning anyone who fails to conform to this nonsense:
Only he who does something
Is worthy to live,
The world has no need for a drone.
Well, I'm a loser, Baby, so why don't you kill me? All those artists, writers, composers, who spend half the day sitting in bed dreaming, thinking, stirring up the juices of creativity are not worthy to live? I'm glad Mr. Johnson was not running a camp in Dachau or Matthausen or Auschwitz.
A different perspective comes from an article by Tom Hodgkinson titled "The Virtue of Idleness" in the British newspaper, The Guardian: "For all modern society's promises of leisure, liberty and doing what you want, most of us are still slaves to a schedule we did not choose."
Mr. Hodgkinson goes on to cite a long list of creative spirits, historians, philosophers, scientists who managed to break the rule of early to bed, early to rise and change the world for the better. I think my favorite is Walt Whitman, who arrived at the office of the newspaper where he worked at 11:30, went to lunch at 12 for a two-hour break, worked another hour and then "hit the town."
Pity, some might say. He might have written more than just The Leaves of Grass. Good riddance, Walt, you weren't worthy to live.
It is now 1:44 PM. Feeling sleepy.
Mr. Hodgkinson goes on to cite a long list of creative spirits, historians, philosophers, scientists who managed to break the rule of early to bed, early to rise and change the world for the better. I think my favorite is Walt Whitman, who arrived at the office of the newspaper where he worked at 11:30, went to lunch at 12 for a two-hour break, worked another hour and then "hit the town."
Pity, some might say. He might have written more than just The Leaves of Grass. Good riddance, Walt, you weren't worthy to live.
It is now 1:44 PM. Feeling sleepy.
Ha! Why do I love this post? Because I can hear both of those voices rolling around inside. "the Mr. Johnson" indeed. I'm certain he was up promptly at the crack of dawn each and every day, gathering his hard evidence. Oh and yes yes yes, good riddance to that no-good lolly-gag Walt as well. Of course he was not worthy to live. Leaves of Grass was a puff piece. This post is hilarious and, well you know… true. Thanks for pointing out the virtues of loafing. I know I personally need reminding when there are such 'worthy' voices shouting about its vices.
ReplyDeleteBut how do you know Mr Will Johnson thought that creative pursuits were in vain and not work? He obviously was given to the writing of verse. Your art cheers up the sad. Maybe poor Will is simply being misinterpreted. Just sayin' :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Tom.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Tom, for your spot-on criticism of my most hated hymn. It's currently being banned in our ward, because a dear sister who was struggling both with activity and depression gathered up the courage to come to church one fateful Sunday, and, alas, the opening hymn was "Have I Done Any Good?" She left in tears and didn't return for months. My own sister, who struggles with depression as I do, became so enraged at these condemning lines that she wrote her own version, which begins: "Have you done any good in the world, you boob? You’re a lurch if you can’t succeed. . ." and after listing several dismal failures, concludes: "Then wake up and do something more Than cry like a banshee below, Having fun is a pleasure, It’s good beyond measure, A blessing of good sense and love." I keep these words on hand.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Marilyn.
DeleteI think you're onto something, Allysha. My comment was definitely about my own interpretations and misinterpretations. In fact, I'd say one of the most incendiary aspects of this post, for me, has been the part where that damn hymn has been playing in loops since the moment I read this. Which makes me laugh. My own inner soldier relentlessly beating his drum. I'm getting better at acknowledging him and seeing his purpose and dismissing the parts I find unhelpful. I'm glad of voices like Tom's, that remind me there is more than one way to look at all things.
ReplyDeleteI gained freedom from the dogma of this song over fifty years ago! Curiously it was in a my high school biology class when I learned the true role of the drone - male bee used for reproduction. The writer"s philosophic conclusion was flawed! In fact THE WORLD DOES HAVE A NEED FOR A DRONE!. From then for all these decades, when I hear the song I think about reproduction - among insects.
ReplyDeleteReminds of the time in dry priests meeting when this part time idiot condemned anyone who took a nap on Sunday afternoon. According to him you were to be anxiously engaged in study, service, etc. continuously. The saddest thing about it is he was serious.
ReplyDeletein bed at 12:12pm, next to my son who is reading and enjoying a sick day. It's called academic leave, and yes, this academic has left.
ReplyDelete