Just listened to a NYT podcast, The Argument for the first time.  The presentation ran for about 20 minutes.  The subjects were the prospects for DJ Trump in the election in November, “Is Donald Trump Toast?” and the problems, issues having to do with opening schools in the midst of an uncontrolled pandemic.  Three journalists discussed these issues.  I enjoyed the dialog, was educated, and sobered.  I reference the New York Times frequently in this blog.  It is hard to imagine my life without the Times Morning Briefing which comes via email to my cell phone.  The Morning Briefing by David Leonhardt is a compendium of articles covering the range of topics in the current edition of the Times.  I am able to click on the link to any of the articles mentioned if I desire to read in depth.  The Morning Briefing  is highly recommended.

Michelle Goldberg, one of the journalists contributing to The Argument podcast used the term ‘hell world’ on several occasions.  By comparison to the life of a few months ago, which we vividly remember, the world of this pandemic can be described as a ‘hell world.’  In the background of such language lurks the reality of a clueless leader, who by bombast and coercion makes dangerous demands as well as fosters the worst tendencies within our collective character.  Yet we know that by comparison to lives lived as a journalist in New York, or a retired “old guy” in Batavia, countless others, fellow human beings in many other places have conditions much worse.

Without further ado I offer one response to a hell world, one that is reasonable, that conserves one’s humanity, and affirms the supreme importance of community.  Listen, allow yourself to be swept away by the triumphant chords of this tune.  Then read carefully the lyric lines written by Bruce Springsteen.  This is a description of a hell world, and an assertion that love prevails, an act of resistance to dark circumstances.

Atlantic City

By Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band

Well they blew up the chicken man in Philly last night
Now they blew up his house too
Down on the boardwalk they’re gettin’ ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do

Now there’s trouble busin’ in from outta state
And the D.A. can’t get no relief
Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
And the gamblin’ commissions hangin’ on by the skin of its teeth

Everything dies baby that’s a fact
Maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Well I got a job and tried to put my money away
But I got debts that no honest man can pay
So I drew what I had from the Central Trust
And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus

Everything dies baby that’s a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
But with you forever I’ll stay
We’re goin’ out where the sands turnin’ to gold now
Put on your stockin’s cause the nights gettin’ cold and
Everything dies, baby, that’s a fact but maybe
Everything that dies someday comes back

Now I been lookin’ for a job but it’s hard to find
Down here it’s just winners and losers and don’t get caught on the wrong side of that line
Well I’m tired of comin’ out on the losin’ end
So honey last night I met this guy and I’m gonna do a little favor for him

Well I guess everything dies baby that’s a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City
And meet me tonight in Atlantic City