Political falsehoods
Nice to see columnist Mike Masterson own up to being taken in by the claim that the coronavirus ("it's the flu") was no big deal ("Made a believer," in a recent Sunday op-ed), even if it took seeing friends and neighbors dying to bring him around. He says he is now ready to wear a mask and take the virus seriously. I hope so.
Would that he would also realize he's been tricked by a bunch of other political falsehoods. Ready to take climate change seriously? Admit immigration won't be solved by a wall? That Mexico won't pay for it? That Biden was fairly elected? That we need expanded health care like other modern democracies? And on and dispiritingly on.
Please, do not be taken in. Don't be like Mike.
RAY WHITE
Little Rock
A time for maturity
Those of us who have raised children, or those who have been around young children, have witnessed the annoyance of immaturity. "I want an ice cream!" There's nothing wrong with wanting an ice cream, certainly, and most of us are probably repeat offenders. But as we have matured, we learn there are times when it's simply not appropriate: no ice cream nearby, no money, almost dinner time, etc. Growing up is largely a process of learning there are times when our desires cannot responsibly be satisfied at the instant an urge arises.
During the pandemic, we are seeing that many chronologically adult folks haven't actually matured in this sense. "I want to have a party with my friends." Nothing wrong with that and we've all experienced that desire--except in the age of covid, we need a society of grownups. Some will say they are willing to risk getting sick but (1) that means they will take medical facilities away from other sick people and (2) they may very likely kill others, like their grandparents.
Maturity importantly involves "deferred gratification": the willingness to hold off on certain desires until it's appropriate to satisfy them. You can have an ice cream later on. Promise.
Here's to a grown-up 2021.
EARL BABBIE
Hot Springs Village
Christmas Eve watch
Thanks to Preston Jones for his excellent guest column. I too was a young sailor on watch on Christmas Eve aboard the USS Ranger, except it was a few years before Preston's time. It was Dec. 24, 1969, on the South China Sea off the coast of North Vietnam. I was 19.
BOB NESBITT
Sherwood
Words before we go
Garrison Keillor has compiled three volumes of poetry that I really treasure, but I think my favorite book of poetry is a small volume by contemporary poet Nathan Brown, containing poems he wrote based on the reported last words of mostly well-known people such as Elvis Presley's, "I'm going into the bathroom to read." Some of the last words he quotes are witty, some sad, some defiant, some ironic, and some poignant.
I imagine it's rather hard to be witty while lying on one's deathbed, but Voltaire reportedly said, "This is no time to make new enemies." Touche!
It doesn't get much sadder (or braver) than Joan of Arc's last utterance, "Hold the cross high so I can see it through the flames."
Giles Gorey, as he was being pressed to death with rocks for supposedly being a witch in Salem, Mass., defiantly shouted, "More weight" as the real witches piled on more stones.
Ironically, Union Major-General John Sedgwick declared seconds before being felled by a rebel sharpshooter, "They couldn't hit an elephant at this distance."
Brown's quote from Davy Crockett, "... be sure you're right, then go ahead." was most likely not his last words before dying at the Alamo, just his best remembered. Brown notes in his commentary poem that few of us, if any, have declared, "I am sure I am wrong" before going ahead.
The most poignant quote for me came from Stonewall Jackson as he lay dying from a wound sustained from friendly fire: "Let us cross over the river and sit under the shade of the trees." Perhaps the river he envisioned was the River Jordan and the trees snowy dogwoods.
The title of Brown's little volume is "To Sing Hallucinated." I hope when I get my cue I can exit, singing.
JOHN McPHERSON
Searcy
My life expectancy
Somewhere around age 50, I began comparing my potential longevity with that of my grandfather, who lived to be 72. It seemed like a long way off. It wasn't till I retired two years ago at 70 that I revised my endurance hopes. At the same time I started to, as they say, get things in order.
Even then, and throughout my life, I have measured my life in decades to my demise. I think that is sort of normal. That all changed with covid-19. I noticed, after learning that even very healthy people can contract and possibly die within 20 to 30 days, that I am now measuring my expectancy in 30-day increments.
I never saw my life potentially ending like this, but it sure could in the next 30 days. Please ... wear a mask.
PHIL MARIAGE
Hot Springs