Turbulent Times and Peaceful Waters
Turbulent times. Turbulent is an appropriate adjective to describe the year 2020. The worldwide pandemic and politics were the catalysts and I admit that the year was among the most tumultuous of my life. Turbulent times put a person’s character on trial, lessons are learned, and growth results.
Just a year prior, I formally referred to myself publicly as a writer for the first time and began making content available for the world to judge. Educators praised my writing over the years, and a few friends and acquaintances suggested that I create a blog, so I began 2019 with my first published work. That first year, I published more often than now and established a rhythm. I was motivated and excited and I worked to become a better writer. I established my “voice” and admittedly, there were fewer good works than bad. Late that year, predictions of the global pandemic began to emerge and I had no idea I would soon experience a world “gone crazy.” I also had no idea the wheels were about to “run off” in my personal life.
The year 2019 started busy and got busier. Things were great! The economy was good and I felt like I might be able to see the light at the end of a very long, long, long tunnel. My world revolved around motorcycle trips and I managed to top thirty thousand miles traveling on two wheels that year. I should have known. Historically, when things are going too well for me, it is as if the gods grab hold of a testicle in each hand and call for a round of applause.
To be precise, January 18, 2020, is the day that things took, as they say, a “Southerly” turn. I will not produce a lot of narrative on details though, because things happen in life for each of us and I certainly do not lay a claim to cornering the market on misery. The outlook was bleak, though, and the Global Pandemic was only a blip on the upcoming radar.
The Pandemic hit. People were sick, very sick, and many who were not closely associated with healthcare, did not feel the sense of urgency that I felt regarding the disease. At the hospital where I work, we planned for the onslaught of the sick and the ramifications of a contagion of which little was known. Separating the regular sick patients from the highly contagious was paramount as was dealing with the exposed family and caregivers of those infected. We learned the techniques of “donning and doffing” personal protective equipment. (Gloves, gowns, masks, shields and such) We placed extreme emphasis on hand washing and cleaning at work and home. Most notably, human civilization became wearers of masks and for some insane reason, hoarders of toilet tissue.
Bean counters worldwide began to take a daily tally of the sick and dead from the disease. The numbers were staggering and frightening. The “powers that be” made the rules as we played the game and they scrapped the plan adopted at 6:00 AM and replaced it with a new plan by 10:00 AM and a new plan after that.
In late March 2020, we received the news that the virus had claimed the lives of Joe Diffie and a week later, John Prine. I had been a Joe Diffie fan from the start but knew little of John Prine then. But based on the reactions from the world of country music, it all just added more weight to the scourge. We had seen death locally, old to young, with seemingly no prejudice as to its victims, but with the news of Joe and John, I do not know, somehow, it just seemed to be a more desperate situation. I will stop here because everyone endured the state of the world at that time.
I mentioned personal hurdles that I experienced during that year. I will not go into detail about my struggles, but my future looked bleak at the time. The years of burying my head, ignoring issues, and generally approaching life from a reactional point of view, were coming home to roost. I had spent years allowing life to happen to me, instead of taking a stance, drawing a line, and taking control. I was stuck, treading water, treading water. As is the norm in situations like this, my financial outlook was poor. My woes plus the Pandemic added up to be a burden to bear, to say the least.
Life has many twists and turns though, and I am not immune from the impact of life. As soon as we all readjusted to the new normal, I dove back into my writing, fueled by the latest experiences in a schizophrenic world. I navigated the new “normal” as best I could and found solace in dredging up old stories from the past with hopes of remembrance of times gone by, times more simple, times when death lay behind a door still off in the distant future. I wrote two pieces I count among my favorites, one titled, “Did You Ever?” (https://dbeazylife.com/did-you-ever/ ) The second offering was titled, “Who Is Louie and Where in the Hell Are We Going?” (https://dbeazylife.com/who-is-louie-and-where-in-the-hell-are-we-going/ ) The writing was getting a little better and more importantly, the writing was genuine therapy for this old and traumatized soul.
I bring all of this up tonight, in the early days of the year of our Lord 2025, because of a tune that I recently listened to by John Prine. I was driving home the other night, and a John Prine song came on that I had never heard. In the song, John Prine sings about Lake Marie’s peaceful waters, about love, and about relationships, and the song references The Kingsmen song, “Louie, Louie.”
Driving home, I heard the song and immediately recognized a correlation between the John Prine song and some of my writing. The outcome of my life hinges upon certain moments and certain decisions. My life has just turned out that way. Ronald Reagan’s assassination attempt, Nine-Eleven, Hurricane Katrina, and COVID-19 all had everlasting effects on my life. There are other events and milestones, before and after that left indelible marks, though I will not iterate upon now. There is no need because none of it will influence the result.
What influences the result you ask? Just as I do, John Prine wrote about glimpses of his life. Likewise, I cannot help but write from the heart. I draw certain conclusions from certain stimuli any of the five senses might influence. Sight, hearing, taste, touch, or smell; it does not matter.
Hearing John Prine sing about “standing by peaceful waters” in this particular offering, my mind was swept to 2019. That was a good year, let me tell you, and if ever I found myself standing by peaceful waters, that was the year. As years come and go, so it was with me. The year of our Lord 2019 soon gave way to the year of our Lord 2020 and the turbulent times that followed.
At this point in this work, I am required to draw all of this into a believable conclusion. I cannot swear tonight as I peck at the keys that there is one. I mean, there was a conclusion, I think, when I listened to the song earlier, but that was then. Nevertheless, in art, the eye of the beholder and such, draw from it what you will. Alternatively, maybe in my case, I produced this work over a couple of weeks and a varied selection of bourbon may have influenced me, or it may be just idiotic rambling. The year 2020 was a year we witnessed humanity on trial. Yes, put on trial, judged, and sentenced. Covid took the lives of John Prine and Joe Diffie. John’s voice is gone. Joe’s voice is gone. They are irreplaceable, but it is more than people and voices. John and Joe expressed intangibles through their music and words. Everyone has a story and we tell these stories in many different ways. Some, like John and Joe, were masters of voice, music, and story. Take, for example, John Prine’s “Lake Marie” or Joe Diffie’s “Ships That Don’t Come In,” or go one further and pay attention to Joe Diffie’s “Is It Cold in Here?”
In the end, though, I conclude that it is life itself, that will kill you. None of us can escape the inevitable, so whether the waters are turbulent or still, we are responsible for our happiness. We can only take the words and music of Joe, John, and others and find our way. In the case of old DBeazy, music singularly affects me most in private moments. Well, music sprinkled with brown spirits to enhance interpretation.
I will end with this. Life has a way of testing limits. Without getting spiritual or religious, life just has a way of keeping us on our toes, reminding us that WE are NOT in charge. Therefore, we take what is given and we do with it what we must. Is it fair that some seem to breeze through it all, emerging unscathed? Hell no it is not. It simply is not our place to question. We take the given and we make of it what we will. This is all we can do. To find the peaceful waters wherever we can. Of course, we can tune in to the words of Joe Diffie and John Prine every chance we get. We can celebrate their contributions, knowing that the words “awe Baby, we gotta go now” can be applied in this life at any time, or we can identify with the words “to those who stand on empty shores and spit against the wind,” and know that we still have today, and maybe, if we are fortunate, we have tomorrow.