Naturally you will ask, “What position are you hoping to fill? What are the qualifications?”  My answer:

I hope to interview candidates for the position of a “god.” 

That’s right we have an opening for a qualified deity.  Similar to the CEO of a corporation, we need a symbol, a totem upon which we can project an understanding of our past successes and our people’s failure of injustice. A deity is needed to invest with our aspirations for the uncertain future.  We need a divine hook which supports our collective sense of self, a symbol to unify us, something bold enough to capture the gaze away from petty, self centered pursuits …. What I mean is a inscrutable symbol, like the old notion of fate, like the Moria in J.R.R. Tolkien’s story, a dark maze of subterranean tunnels under the misty mountains.

I’ve been musing along these lines for a while now.  This line of thought was reinforced when I read from the NYT The Daily update this morning which featured interviews of scientists and public health officials, analysis of our abysmal failure to contain the pandemic.  Our performance stands as the worse among developed affluent nations, four months into the pandemic with no clear end in sight.  The analysis results are what everyone already knows: 1) Americans prioritize the individual before collective welfare, so we are adverse to government direction 2) the Trump administrations flagrant incompetence, half measures and denial.  There is still resistance to mask wearing.  The pandemic spreads like a slow motion explosion from the South and the West.

Yesterday I enjoyed a bicycle ride to downtown Batavia.  I was sad to see a number of restaurants on a splendid summer’s day quiet, absent of customers.  “For rent” signs were in store front windows, and a big “for sale sign” by CB Richard Ellis was across the side of one building.   The pandemic vitiates commerce that has a social component.  The ripple effects are surfacing.

Also my attention was drawn to a massive old oak tree in an expanse of public lawn.  This was quite close to the downtown restaurant row, within a stones throw of the river.  Certainly the old tree was left standing due to it’s obvious age.   The tree looked as if it might be older than my father, if he should still be living.  The giant ancient tree would be regarded as if a god, a manifestation of divinity if the tree were living in Japan.  The Japanese would drape a hemp rope of sizable girth around the tree; in the folds of the rope, you’d find folded papers of prayer requests to “the god.”  The photos that I captured do not do justice to this life form that links generations of humans.

As I pedaled past the Depot Pond, I viewed the statue of the a seven-foot-tall bronze fisherman, draped in nets, carrying some fish and wearing the biggest fish as a hat, — sculpted by Ray Kobold.  The tall figure, gazes god-like, north up-river toward Geneva and St. Charles.  It ruminates upon the rivers bounty, upon the inextricable co-dependency between humans and Nature.  We are ‘of Nature’, Nature is our circumference and our center.  We must respect, accede to the boundary, cause and effect of Nature in order to survive.  There is no exception.  No amount of wealth, or blind intransigence can absolve of this necessity.

I refer to the pandemic of course, to our diffident response.

A grand old tree, and the figure of a fisherman — I would offer as worthy candidates for local gods.

Our vessel is floundering in high seas, and we are without a sea anchor.

Before it is too late.