I Did Nothing
Scrolling for that one thing — Journals kept by Great Grandpa Henry in World War II — In North Africa — Getting the shakes — Fields full of poppies — Victory in the desert and on to Italy — Stuck at Anzio — The whistle of artillery shells and the swishing whirl of bombs — A tough case — On what I have done
Scroll baby scroll baby scroll baby scroll. Scroll baby scroll baby scroll baby scroll.
Whatcha gonna find? Whatcha gonna find? Whatcha gonna find?
Gonna find that one article, that one video, that one pic, that one post, that one thing, that one thing, baby, that's gonna make it OK. Gonna find that one thing and so I'm gonna scroll baby scroll baby scroll baby scroll. Gonna find that one thing.
I know it's down here. I've just gotta keep going.
Not this, not that, not this, not that, not this, not that or that or that or that or that.
It's down here. I know it is.
They're gonna tell me that one thing. They're gonna show me that one thing. She's gonna be doing that one thing just right.
I'm gonna find that belt and those shoes and that bag and they're gonna be just right, not these or those, but they're down here if I just keep looking.
No no no no no.
Maybe.
No no no no no.
Close but no.
Put it in my cart. Save it for later.
It's like it's like.
It's like it's always just out of reach.
I don't know what it is, but I'll know it when I see it.
Star it flag it tag it.
Oh, you're good, baby. You're so good. Keep me looking. Yes, you do. You sense it, you devious little robot, that empty spot. You're a tricky little number. Yes you are.
I don't know what it is, but I'll know it when I see it, but I never find it, but I'll know it when I see it, even though I don't know what it is.
Pick it up. Put it down. Pick it up. Put it down. Pick it up. Put it down.
This time it will show me. Yes, it will. This time there will be that one thing.
Yes yes yes.
Oh, you're good baby. Yes, you are. I know it's down there, baby. Just keep pulling me down. Just like that. Give me that one thing, baby, that one thing.
I mean, look: I need to pick it up to make sure nothing has happened in the last three and-a-half minutes. OK? What's so wrong about that? Hmm? Tell me. The question answers itself.
It's loading more, see. There's more on the way, see? I once had dreams for myself, but now it's loading more, just for me I tell you, just for me. I'll pick it up, but I can put it back down to pick it up again. This isn't a problem, is it? Is this a problem?
Kids, let's talk about your Great Grandpa Henry in World War II. First to Northern Ireland, then training in tropical medicine in London, then to North Africa, then to Italy. The 47th Medical Battalion. He left your great grandma with two little ones and went off to war. Let's look at his journals. He could have been a writer the way he wrote. They landed in Oran and pushed east to Tunisia.
Lovely country here. Hundreds of acres blood red with poppies, other fields solid gold with daises. And I have fleas, like a lot of other men in my company. I hope they don't carry typhus.
They pushed east and he worried about fleas because that's what they told him to worry about in London. But that all stopped soon enough when thy got into the thick of it. Your great grandpa wasn't way back. He was up close to treat battle casualties. He stopped writing about fleas.
Two waves of dive bombers came over today. Anti-aircraft fire opened up on them. They circled our area slowly, then the leading plane pushed over and started down — with that I was into my trench in a hurry. The bombs began to go off. They give you a rather sickening jar in the stomach and sound like a fast freight train hitting a stone wall.
Cr - rr - rr - umph
I must have shouted my lungs out as the attack went on, for I could hardly talk after it was over.
It was the night. Bombers cruising overhead.
He was trying to draw fire from units along the road so he could bomb them. He turned his landing lights on a couple of times. The tail gunner shot down each time he went along the road, the tracers bouncing off the road and stones — several times landing in our area. The surgical tent stands out like a sore thumb in a field. The moon was bright and we felt sure they could see our Red Cross — but we weren't sure, and besides perhaps he didn't care — so we dove into gullies and holes until the bombing stopped about 4 a.m.
It was the night.
Your imagination drives you crazy.
During the day, you could watch them. At night you could only listen. At night
At night I don’t know what to do. When the bombers are overhead, I get the shakes — my bones rattle like castanets. Have heard of getting the piss scared out of you, and I guess it's true — for during the night bombings I have to go every 15 minutes. I am not afraid in the daylight — but this night stuff really gets me down.
He wrote letters to your great grandma. Kept all of it from her.
I am coming along OK.
I am in good health.
Got a note from you today with pictures of Bill and little Dave.
We are in lovely country now, fields full of poppies.
It had been a year since they last saw each other. He told her he'd see her before another year had passed. But that wasn't true, and he probably knew it, and she probably knew it too. That was just the battle for Africa. He was headed to Italy next, and the worst was yet to come.
He was over there, kids, fighting actual Nazis. He was over there, so that eighty years later, I could be here scrolling on my phone. So that we could all be here together, scrolling and scrolling. Because as you know kids, the family that scrolls together, stays together, and, really, there's no better way to celebrate our freedoms than to sit here and stare at our phones.
He was there, stuck on the Anzio beachhead, pinned down by German planes and artillery. Rear was forward and forward was rear, no room to move injured men out, everything jammed onto that beachhead. The shelling and the bombing were constant and there was no place to go, backed up to the water, so he dug a trench and waited it out the best he could. But with everything landing in his area, they bombed the evacuation hospital. What did it matter if he had the Red Cross on his tent, so he dug a trench and waited it out. He was
dug in just below ground level
He was
shaking
shaking in his cot and then the shelling stopped and
sleep seemed right around the corner when the Jerry planes came over
and they dropped thousands of those anti-personnel bombs that exploded and scattered shrapnel everywhere and he
offered up a plea or two to God
Shell fragments, his tent riddled with holes. They bombed the evacuation hospital and he shook in his cot at night.
Our tent has fourteen holes in it this morning
His trench caved in from the explosions. Everyone wondered how long they would be lucky, stuck there for months, and he just learned to work around it. He learned to judge the sound of the artillery shells.
We listen to the whistle of the shell
and the explosion and judge the distance
and go calmly about our business.
He was working on those boys with all of that going on around him because he realized that the one that hits you
that the one that hits us, we will never hear — so why worry
Why worry, that's what he wrote, but it didn't stop, and he was stuck there for months, his tent riddled with holes, and it went on for months, and I guess the shells he could get used to but the nightly air raids, it was the bombs
the swishing whirl
the swishing whirl as it
becomes progressively more loud as it approaches the ground
and he was absolutely positive
that it is going to land right in your hole.
With the bombs, he had to sweat them out, but with the shells
there isn't any time to do any sweating
His tent riddled with holes, and those anti-personnel bombs spreading shrapnel everywhere, he was getting the nerves that's what they called it, and the other doctors were getting the nerves working and sleeping like that for months. There was no place for rest because the rear was forward and the forward was rear and everything was jammed onto that beachhead, and he starting getting the nerves and the boys he was working on
Had one of my toughest cases last nite
both forearms
Boy had both forearms blown off
both eyes
both eyes out
right leg
rt leg will come off
And he looked like
he was going to live
what a life
what a life — if you can call it that
He was stuck there working on those boys
both forearms blown off — both eyes out, rt leg will come off
Stuck there on that beachhead getting shelled and bombed working on those boys and shaking in his cot
both forearms blown off
He had
both forearms blown off
What did he ever tell anyone about any of that? Pinned down on that beachhead for months, and what did he ever say about any of it?
He was fighting actual Nazis, kids. Getting bombed and shelled by actual Nazis in a medical tent on the Italian coast. Working on those boys, their bodies blown to bits. He was your great grandpa, kids. He did an amazing thing, traveled across the world to defend democracy.
And what I have done? That's a great question. I just checked the weather on my phone, and I can tell that it's going to start raining in the next seven minutes. That's what I've done. I've determined using the weather app on my phone that it is highly likely to start raining soon, and that will enable me to be prepared by, for example, grabbing an umbrella before I leave. That is what I've done.
Your great grandpa worked on those broken bodies with bombs and shells all around him and had what amounted to a nervous breakdown and came home and never said one word about it.
Similarly, I did a thing at work and will probably post about it because you’ve got to raise your profile, kids. That's just what you've got to do. You've got to raise that profile.
What have I done? Great question. Well, typically what I've done is, the night before, around 9 pm, I rinse out the coffee pot and then fill up the reservoir and then get the grounds ready for the following morning, so that all I have to do is hit the button and it starts brewing. It's very important that the only thing you have to do is hit the button, because otherwise you're just wasting time in the morning. Then it's bedtime. It's very important to get a good night's rest, because how are you supposed to function the following day if you don’t get enough sleep? You can't function. It's as simple as that.
So, God willing, I get a good night's rest, and then it's time to get up, go downstairs, hit the button, pour some cereal, and then log on and work through emails. It's really important to keep your inbox clean, kids, so I spend that first hour or so just working on basic email hygiene. I delete emails that can be deleted. I respond to the emails that need immediate response. I file emails in the appropriate folders that I've either responded to or that don't require a response. And I leave emails in my inbox that still require some sort of action. Those emails will remain there until they have been appropriately addressed. But it's really important not to let the number of those unaddressed emails get out of hand. Don't let them get stale. If something has been there for more than a week, then you should consider whether it's something that actually requires immediate action, or if it should be placed on a different to-do list, to be addressed later.
I've been doing this for years, kids. Wake up, hit the button, pour some cereal, log on. And while I've been doing that, a not insubstantial number of people have come to believe that there is an underground pedophile ring run out of a pizza shop in Washington, D.C. by prominent members of the Democratic Party and certain other random famous people. And those people have elected people to Congress who purport to believe the same thing, although maybe they're just pandering. I don't really know. But I also don't know if it's any better if they are just pandering and don't actually believe that there is an underground pedophile ring run out of a pizza shop in Washington, D.C. by prominent members of the Democratic Party and certain other random famous people. I am maintaining inbox hygiene, kids — this one can be deleted, this one needs a response, this one can be filed — and these people are marching on Congress and trying to overturn elections and install what I guess would be a Christofascist regime.
When the bombers are overhead, I get the shakes
Your great grandpa, kids.
the swishing whirl
Your great grandpa fought Nazis. He saw what happened up close when a society surrenders to its basest instincts. And what do we have now? Well, maybe it's the same thing in the early stages. Doctors are the enemy. Journalists are the enemy. Teachers are the enemy. The mailman is the enemy. I mean, the mailman, that nice old guy who gives biscuits to the neighborhood dogs when he's walking his route.
Is it the early stages? Or is it the late stages?
The president did openly advocate terminating the Constitution. I mean, that's what he said. He said extraordinary circumstances such as these call for terminating the Constitution.
So, yes, kids, they are openly calling for terminating our country's foundational legal document and installing themselves as some sort of extralegal government that may or may not be temporary, although I'm sure they'll be working to make it permanent. That is what they are calling for. And I guess we're executing all of the doctors and journalists and teachers and mailmen, although I'm just inferring that last part, as they have not explicitly called for mass executions in the same way that they have explicitly called for terminating the Constitution.
And what have I done? Well, as I said before, great question. I have been habitually contributing ten percent to my 401(k), sometimes more if I can swing it. A lot of people say it should be more like fifteen percent, but there are a lot of demands on my income, kids, a lot of demands. Travel ball won’t pay for itself. So a lot of the time it has just been the ten percent.
What else?
Well, I've bundled our home and auto insurance policies. Definitely saved a few bucks there. I've also bundled phone, internet and TV. It's just tough to beat the pricing when you put it all together like that. I have definitely done those things. Also, I’m usually on time. If you say we need to be somewhere at a particular time, I am very sensitive to that. That's important, kids. It's important to be on time.
We listen to the whistle of the shell
the swishing whirl
When someone asks you, kids, what your dad was doing when nihilism was eating the country alive and roving bands of ghouls were marching on and through our institutions in their tactical gear, you tell them he was on time. He was one timely guy. He was appropriately dressed and gainfully employed and he took pretty good care of his teeth, although let's be honest, he should have flossed more often.
When they ask you, kids, what your dad was doing when these rancid trolls declared war on tolerance and science and education and democracy and really, I guess, just common decency, you tell them he was a good man, respectful of others, with clean trousers and a decent button-down and his car was insured and he paid his electric bill. That's what you tell them, kids. He kept the lights on, for no discernible purpose it seems other than to keep the lights on, yes, but the lights were most definitely on.
both eyes out
both forearms blown off
Your great grandpa, kids. Trapped on that beach so that I could be here. Those kids he was working on, blown to bits so that I could be here.
I am scrolling, yes. I am reading celebrity news, yes. Some idiot is dating some other idiot, and I’m reading about it, yes. I am checking my stocks. I am shopping for a new watch. I am shopping for shirts. I am shopping for a rug. A new email came in. Did you hear it ding? I am checking the weather here. I am checking the weather in some place where I am not and will not be. I am looking for something. I have forgotten what it is. I am scrolling, yes. I know it’s down there. I know it is. I am reading an article about searching for happiness. I am reading an article about stopping to search for happiness. I am reading an article about what happiness is. I am scrolling for happiness, for meaning, although I know I will not find it, and although I know I will not find it, I will keep scrolling. There is no meaning in this.
They have been marching, kids, advancing, and they are armed to the teeth and destroying everything in their path, because that's all that they are now. That is their sole organizing principle. What currently exists must be destroyed. There is no plan other than to take a wrecking ball to the whole thing. They will tear it all down if we let them. Will we let them? That's a great question. But it's time for dinner and then bath time and bedtime. We don't have time to talk about that now. We'll have to circle back.
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
Pardon my language. I shouldn't be talking like this.
Cr - rr - rr - umph
went the bombs around your great grandpa.
Cr - rr - rr - umph
When you're older, you'll ask what I did. And to that, I would pose a question in response: What can one man really do? I'm just one man. What difference does it make what I do on any given day? It doesn't. I'll answer that for you. It doesn't make any difference. I'm just one man. I wake up. I make the coffee. I take a shower. I drop you off at school, and then I go to work. That's what I've done and will continue to do. I like to tell myself that maintaining a humble, decent life in the face of all of this is a kind of positive statement and action in and of itself, but I don't really believe that, and neither should you. I am comfortable and cowardly. This isn't complicated. When faced with opportunities to make a difference, I take a hard pass because I'm just one man. It doesn't matter what I do, ergo why should I do anything differently? Don't do as I say, kids, or as I do. Got that? No listening or watching. I am modeling everything all wrong. This isn't complicated. I am a cowardly, weak man who likes to pretend that he is not those things. And you need to know that, yes you do. When you ask what I did, don't listen to what I say. When you ask what I did, the correct response is: nothing. I did nothing. I didn't do anything. I did nothing. Over and over again, I didn't do anything. In point of fact, I did nothing and pretended that I was doing something. But please know that I did nothing. I was able to check the weather with pinpoint accuracy twenty-four hours a day, yes. I was able to place a modest wager on a meaningless game, yes. I was able to watch any clip from any old movie anywhere at any time, yes. I was able to watch someone I did not know make a ham sandwich, yes. I was able to watch a dog dressed as a pumpkin eat a carrot, yes. I ordered pizza. I ordered Mexican. I ordered donuts. I marveled at the technology in that slim rectangle I could fit in my pocket. And when they marched on Congress, I didn't do a goddamn thing. Pardon my language. We had a normal night that night and every night after. I told you it was late. Time for bed. I tucked you in and then went to bed myself. And what did I do there in the dark by the glow of my sweet little baby in my hand? I think you know. I think you do.