SEPTEMBER 25, 2022 – Yesterday’s crankiness was overcome by my friends. To these accidental therapists I am especially grateful.
As noted in yesterday’s post, I’d taken a break from the Ken Burns documentary, The U.S. and the Holocaust. The “pause” button, however, didn’t extinguish my angst. I experienced continuing dread by the very fact that I’d stopped watching the documentary: wasn’t I morally complicit in the widespread denial and dismissiveness of horrific persecution? Didn’t I share responsibility with earlier generations who “looked the other way” or questioned the veracity of reports coming out of Europe?
These questions hounded me well into the night. But I awoke to an email that turned things around. It came from my close college friend, Jeff Oppenheim, who, on a recent call, had mentioned the documentary; Jeff, a student of history and whose parents’ families had fled Germany just as all doors were slamming shut; whose mother, Ruth, had stories with which I was well familiar from her riveting and exceptionally well-crafted memoir, Beyond Survival (See 10/8/2020 post). Jeff reminded me of his mother’s continuing, regular speaking engagements—at age 94—describing repression under the Nazis and warning that such can happen again, anywhere . . . namely, here.
I took inspiration from this reminder—and from the comment by another reader of this blog, who’s watched the documentary and remarked that the work also highlights selfless efforts of people who, rather than deny or dismiss the horribles unleashed by the Nazis, worked tirelessly to combat injustice.
Then this afternoon arrived from L.A. a younger friend—Derek and his partner Cole. Derek is a talented graphic designer who’d shared workspace in the same downtown Minneapolis building where I’d rented an office before Covid. We’d enjoyed many rewarding conversations and remained in touch after Derek’s move back to California. Derek and Cole were in town for a friend’s wedding and stopped by our house for an extended conversation—I on our “bubble” porch; Derek and Cole under the shade of a (wind-blown) sun umbrella 30 feet away. Cole, a native of Ohio and an artist (having gone through the rigors of higher-ed art school in Maryland) now living in Hollywood, is Derek’s perfect match, as is he for her.
Among many things, we talked about the big picture in which we as Americans and citizens of the world now find ourselves. Exceptionally thoughtful, intelligent, and well-informed, this California couple gave me optimism about the future. They are the future, but better yet, they’re fully engaged now, today, in influencing the world about them in a positive way.
As a perfect capstone to my attitudinal turnaround, another college friend, Dave Larsson—who’s equal parts super (Philadelphia) lawyer, accomplished musician, and student of many subjects—responded to my “crankiness” post by advising Mozart (not Chopin) in the morning; he went on to share a song by Carl Perkins and NRBQ, Boppin’ the Blues. Dave highlighted the following lyrics:
“The good doctor told me, ‘Carl, you don’t need no pills/Just a handful of dimes and a jukebox will cure your ills.”
It takes a village.
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© 2022 by Eric Nilsson
