Saving the ever-elusive dream

“Now I'm too young for dying and too old to lose.” — The Rolling Stones, ‘Depending on You,’ 2023.

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I’m too old to put up with this crap.

The Stones’ lyrics were written about a love affair gone wrong, but are perhaps applicable for another, very different sort of love affair that’s in deep trouble but still worth saving.

For many of us, our love affair with America, the dream of it, the everyday goodness of many parts of it — think old-time baseball before the suits ruined it, drive-in movies, a jazz riff, a Jimmy Stewart classic, a haunting song by Joan Baez or Bob Dylan or Billie Holiday — is in danger of fading away.

It’s under full-scale attack by monstrous men (mostly men) and women with hideous designs.

For them, the Statue of Liberty is an abomination. The idea of diversity as a form of strength is foreign. The words of the Declaration of Independence, the U.S. Constitution, the Battle Hymn of the Republic, MLK’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail, or any anthem you can think of that defends the rights of all, including the most marginalized among us, have no meaning to them, might as well have been written on the wind.

For this dream to last, we’re going to have to fight for it. Not sit alone in our homes. Not bury ourselves in private thoughts and experiences. Not shut out the world. Not hope it blows over. Not “take care of ourselves” by averting our eyes, closing our ears, ignoring the ugly realities confronting us.

I’m not suggesting we don’t need sustenance. We do. We all need breaks, time to catch our breaths, recharge our batteries, “center ourselves” by whatever mechanisms work.

But our collective duty is calling out to us as never before in recent memory.

It’s reminding us of what we owe to the proud parts of our heritage, to our fellow citizens and the immigrants who have trusted our words and promises, to our foreign friends and allies. What we owe to our kids and our grandchildren. What we owe to ourselves—the highest versions of ourselves.

There will be protests. There will be boycotts. There will be lawsuits. There will be — there is — a desperate need to contact Senators, Congresspeople, governors, state legislators, mayors and city council members, and press them to do their duties. There will be chances to sing songs of protest and rebellion against what is happening in Washington D.C. and nationwide, and all the horrors that MAGA-world has unleashed upon us.

Who knows what it will take, how long it will take, and how many sacrifices will be required.

I hope and pray there will soon be a time when this horrific era is behind us, when criminals and traitors like Trump, Musk, Vance and more have been defeated, when their ugly words and deeds will no longer hold sway over us and our Republic. When those who have fought and died or suffered catastrophic injury for freedom will be proud of what we’ve achieved together. When we can continue, together, the journey toward creating a more perfect union. When we can continue, together, to seek — never quite within our reach —that elusive ideal of becoming like “a city on a hill,” a source of comfort and hope and justice to many, here and around the world.

And maybe, someday — sans Musk — on other worlds as well.