Quiet Desperation
Thoreau, right? He was the one who said, “The mass of men live lives of quiet desperation.” How about the women? I bet the same is true for them, too. After all, it is the easiest thing to do. Just lay back and surrender to the circumstances you find yourself in. There might be an afterlife that will give you your just reward. No need to fret over all that is going on here.
In my book of lives lived, surrender also means settlement. At some point, we all have to do that, don’t we? We all settle, right? How many people do you know who love their jobs, spouse, neighborhood, tax code, and… You get it. Contrast that with the people just playing out the string because they are trapped in circumstances they can’t break free from.
Socrates famously said that an unexamined life isn’t worth living. I have always felt that is true. He might have meant different things by “unexamined” than I do, but the theme is the same. I constantly examine my life, and I refuse to settle. Maybe that is just delusional; perhaps I am mistaken, living in a world that doesn’t correspond with dark and cold reality. I am not sure, that could be true, but I doubt it.
What has brought this on? Did something happen to put me in a reflective mood? No, it is a typical Saturday in Hillbilly Land, and I am sitting at the library. I watched The French Lieutenants Woman last night, a fascinating film. It has been on my list for a long time. I watched because it was brought up in conversation, and that was all the nudge I needed to finally watch it. I am glad I did. It…
Oh no. Another ruckus at the entrance. Three men, obviously disturbed and angry, are yelling at the women at the front desk. So much for quiet desperation; these guys are fired up about something. I am wearing my headphones, so it is hard to make out what exactly is going on. Yes, I am still listening to The Car. I still don’t like it, but I am bending to give my favorite band the benefit of more than one doubt.
The disturbance seems to be about the vending machines near the entrance. The men had apparently rigged the device to give them free coffee whenever they wanted it. They are objecting to the removal of the machine. A sign was placed on all the machines yesterday announcing they were being removed. Imagine that, the vending company is refusing to give the homeless community of Hillbilly Land more free coffee. If I wanted to get up and talk to these men (which I don’t), I would suggest that this is a battle they can not possibly win. It is best to admit defeat and move on to the next catastrophe cast upon them by an uncaring universe.
My view is partially blocked by the shelves of CDs near a support beam. I can still hear them but can’t make out any details. One of the men is very agitated, flailing his arms back and forth as one of the librarians is talking to him like she is a kindergarten teacher. It is not working; the leader of this particular homeless tribe is not backing down. He is on a mission to let their displeasure of eliminating free coffee be known.
This is not getting any better. An old man with a cane just got up to intervene. He must have been sick of the noise. I noticed him earlier; he was reading a thick novel while sitting on one of the soft chairs behind me. I have seen him before; he is a regular. This is his library, and he is (apparently) sick of these disturbing shenanigans.
I am glad I stood up to get a better view. I can’t believe what I just saw. The old guy walked up to the leader and, without saying a word, bashed him in the head with his cane. A gangster move for sure, but I am not so sure it was the right one. Oddly, the other two men backed off after watching the old man pummel their buddy. I don’t know where this old guy is getting the energy to wield that cane, but he is keeping up a nice pace. None of the librarians are trying to intervene. I think they are silently cheering him on.
Finally, a police car arrived. A tiny female officer rushed in and pulled the old man away from the screaming homeless guy. She quickly cuffed the old guy and put the three homeless guys against a wall. Backup in here. Two more officers, most likely the entire complement of police working in the city on this shift, have cuffed the three men and are walking them outside to their warm patrol cars.
The old man with the cane seems happy as he stands there, probably cuffed for the first time in his life. I am glad I packed up my stuff and moved to the front of the library to get a better view. He is saying that those guys come in all the time, causing trouble and that he is sick of it.
“I come here for some peace and quiet. I was trying to read my novel when those hillbillies came in and started a ruckus.”
“I understand, but you shouldn’t have hit that man with your cane. I am going to have to take you in.”
“I don’t care. These homeless hillbillies are causing problems every time I come in here. I am sick of it.”
With that, I walked into the restroom to be greeted by the yelping man. He was standing at a urinal, his pants down at his ankles. I decided to leave; I have an office near here. I can go there to use the restroom.
All of these people have their own backstories. They are the center of their own universe, as are we all. Unfortunately, these folks are going to lose their free coffee. I am sure that is a very big deal to them; their one way of getting over on the man. Going forward, they will have to work harder to game the system. Due to circumstances, they must be a resourceful group. With a bit of charm, imagination, and good fortune, they might get it done. We all know they need all the luck they can get.
