Winds of the past
“Winds of the Old Days.” That was a Joan Baez song from the Diamonds and Rust album of the late ’70s, about her reaction to Bob Dylan going out on tour again in 1973. While the main theme of that song was romance, a strong element of the politics of the era rang through the entire piece. It could be taken as a reflection upon the politics and emotions of that tumultuous era.
Yeah, well, that was the ’70s. Thirty-some years later, Joan is still singing, still expressing her views on social justice issues, still going on tour (and packing the zoo when she performs there), still turning out an album or two, still making a living and doing her thing while being true to herself. Same for Dylan, although his political commitments have been less visible than Joan’s over these many years.
Nice work if you can get it.
Our own winds of the old days blew in on Halloween. An old friend from the political days dropped by for an overnight stay. We talked politics, partied, drank and shared what was going on in our lives. It was a magical night, a return to a younger era when we could get away with such things without dragging out of bed the next morning to face multiple responsibilities. Possibilities existed, possibilities of grants, of book contracts, of setting up massive education projects for adults and kids. Possibilities of reform. Of change. Of the future we briefly grasped in that era when we trailed behind the Boomers just ahead of us in the ’60s, when all things were possible and the future lay before us.
Then the crispy morning came, and with it the cold reality of the day. The old friend spoke of financial woes, of challenges to pay bills and live life while in the same breath dreaming of remaining politically active, create activist networks, stay unencumbered by compromise and dedicate life to writing expos퀌�s about corrupt corporate practices.
Again, nice work if you can get it. It’s one thing to devote your life to political change and chase after fame, fortune and a reasonable living while changing the world in your 20s. It’s another to still be chasing the political equivalents of unicorns through the forest in your middle age years, still dreaming that yours will be the dreams and the images that turn around the world while bankruptcy stares you in the face.
Hunter S. Thompson had it right when he said politics is better than sex, a guilty addiction. This old friend isn’t the first to be sucked in by the political jones long past the days of youthful dreams; isn’t the first who believes their voice will be heard down the ages as the conscience of their generation; isn’t the first to grasp at potential projects but somehow never making the connections or having the luck to make them work. Politics is a nasty and brutal mistress. Either you compromise to make a living out of it or you end up chasing shadows with little to show for it. The sleazy truth of modern politics demands compromise of belief to succeed in power. Either that or a personal fortune to bankroll the demands of life while chasing the dreams.
Most of us end up without the luxury to chase after the political dreams, especially in this dark era of Bush the Second and the Patriot Act, when the wrong political stand could harm one’s career or civil liberties. We do little things here and there that we hope makes a difference – money to this cause or that campaign, volunteer work with this or that organization, participation in occasional boycotts, perhaps even an editorial or letter to the editor to cautiously promote our point of view. Little things. If we’re lucky, we have the ability to carve out moments of time to investigate and write exposes, create our pet volunteer projects, and make a difference.
The blunt truth is that the big things require not just compromise but the ability to realistically assess fund-raising clout and public sympathy. The issues that catch our attention do so because they have been properly shaped and formed to do just that; a formula that holds true even for the most sympathetic of social justice concepts. After all, to effectively promote an issue, a spokesperson must find a way to fund it. That’s as true for left-wing social justice activists as it is for right wing anti-tax activists.
Nice work if you can get it.
Still, breezes from the old days do a good job of breathing life into old dreams, even if we don’t decide to go chasing once again after those unicorns hiding in the forest. Life changes, but that doesn’t mean the old ideals have to be buried forever.
Don’t forget to keep those ideals alive.
