Opening Volley
By David Lewis |
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While we were in the final stages of layout, a guy showed up at the office with his head caved in pretty good.
Editor-in-Chief David S. Lewis
Photo: Christopher Atwood
He was from Mississippi. You may have heard the story before: bus ticket from the Gulf Coast, got robbed by some kids, like to have took off my head, missed his pre-paid Greyhound ticket because he was in the hospital, but a church helped out, gave him a $15 check to pay the rescheduling fee at the bus stop, and now, the car he's in, trying to get to the station - well, it's got a flat, and the young girl driving him don't have no money, and this other guy he found has a donut tire he'll sell him, but the church made the check out to the bus station, so he can't spend that, and he tried calling people, but it's hard to get assistance in a strange town on Sunday - especially east on Main Street, when the atmospheric pressure's dangerously high, and the air is ugly with that bad static, compressed hot pervasive apathy, palpably hostile (yes, even on a Sunday) - can you help me out, mister, gimme your business card, I promise I'll make good when I get home, and I need some water too, Brother...
You can find a way to survive in America, even in these crippling times. Not everyone, but most people can - and do. Sadly, when things are good for an American, they tend to be great, and you don't have to worry about finding food, or feeding your children; you pay your car insurance on time and feel safe when you drive - your cocktails are refreshing and exotic, your diet is healthy and organic, and the cheerleaders look great on your big-ass television.
When things are bad, though, you become a wretched animal, a pariah, and the compassionate people are vastly outnumbered by the cold and the impassionate. In America, if you are hard up, it's your own damn fault. You didn't try hard enough. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps - after all, that guy did, and Bill Gates used to live off stray cat bacon and Don Trump lived in the sewer, so get it figured out . . . your bootstraps, man, grab your bootstraps . . .
Sometimes you ain't even got boots. America is damned hard then, because when enough folks are doing fine, those who aren't suffer in front of our eyes and we can't even see them; we look right past them. From the guy looking for change, to that quiet co-worker who has two other jobs, one for each kid, to the bartender you just justified stiffing.
There's a bittersweet reality here: the sickly half-lame potential built into the America I have experienced: Sure, you can drag yourself up, but working hard is rarely enough.
You must also be lucky - damned lucky. And your community has to be compassionate and engaged in the needs and problems of its least well-positioned residents, not just those who are doing well. And if not, you will fail, you will fall on your face, you will starve and miss your bus and your life will be a savagery of hopelessness and despair. This is our wild America, and it is too big a place to be unlucky and alone, for anyone.
I am proud to work for a magazine that has a mind toward community service and charity; this month we feature Nick Fancher, founder of Awesomefest, whose creative approach has brought a hip community together for a higher cause. I am proud of the people at the Stratford Ecological Center, also in this issue, who donate their surplus produce to those in need of emergency assistance in the very community in which it is located. Our Restaurant Week last month raised $5,000 for the Mid-Ohio Food Bank, people who know how to stretch a dollar.
I am also down with the people who run the Street Speech newspaper, giving meaningful jobs to people without homes, a hand-up in life and, more importantly, a balm for their pride, sundered by harsh circumstance. Kudos to Shea Davis, and all of you over there.
I am also proud to know Erin and Jessie, with the Columbus Music Co-op; providing emergency assistance to musicians, an important group of professionals whose well-being is often taken for granted. Congratulations to you both on your Parking Lot Blow-Out.
So, as you read the cover story, voyeuristically scanning for your friends and neighbors, look for the perspective it can provide on your community. Times are rough on a lot of people; depleted food pantries and unemployment rates go hand in hand. People like Erin and Nick and Shea are role models; they're great examples of people who have channeled their passions, such as local music and being Awesome, into community participation. Thanks for the inspiration, guys.
OK,
David S. Lewis
Originally Published: August 1, 2009
