‘What’s the worth of one warm smile? Go and ask the dead man’

By David McElroy · October 23, 2011

There’s nothing like thinking about death to focus your mind on how you really feel about life. I’ve been thinking about death a lot recently — for various reasons — and it’s left me loving life even more.

A couple of people have recently talked to me about wanting to die. That hits me hard, because I see both of them as having the capacity to have long and fulfilling lives ahead of them and because it’s so different from how I feel about life.

At the risk of sounding obvious, the specifics of life can be terribly difficult. I’m certainly not where I want to be. I don’t have the love or money or position or achievements that I’d like to have. I frequently don’t know how to get from where I am now to where I’d like to be — how to bring the vivid picture in my mind into being. But I’ve never lost hope. When Death comes for me, he’ll have to carry me kicking and screaming if he wants to take me.

Another reason I’ve had death on my mind this week is because of the death of a baby in a family on my street a week ago. The little boy was born six or eight weeks ago with serious problems. They were problems that could be fixed with surgery, but he had to get stronger to survive the surgery. He never got strong enough, so he died. His parents never got to hold him until the last moments when the life was slipping away from his tiny body.

As I thought about these things again Saturday — the difference between people who see life as something to toss away and others who are devastated by the loss of life — I stopped at a small country cemetery not terribly far from here to think about it quietly. That’s the entrance to the cemetery looking back at the road. As I walked around, I couldn’t help but look at the tombstones and wonder about the stories of the people buried there. What were their lives like? Were they happy? Did they love other people? Did they do things with their lives that they were proud of? And did they love their lives as much as I love mine?

I have no way of knowing. I can only answer through the lens of my own feelings and thoughts since I’ll never know their stories or their feelings. I can imagine, though.

I saw adjacent headstones for two teen-agers who died on the same day in 1973. I assume it was a car accident or a house fire or something unexpected. Sixteen-year-old Jerry and his brother thought they had long lives ahead of them, but they were cut short on May 25, 1973 for reasons I’ll never know. What would they have done differently in the days leading up to that day if they had known they were about to die? What would they appreciate that actually took for granted?

I was reminded of the words to an obscure 1987 rock song called “Go Ask the Dead Man.” (The album from Mark Heard was released using the pseudonym Ideola.) It’s all about understanding the value of life by looking at the mundane things a dead man can no longer experience:

What’s the worth of one warm smile?
Go and ask the dead man
How bright the light in loved ones’ eyes?
Go ask the dead man
Where’s the charm in cloudy skies?
Go and ask the dead man
Oh — go ask the dead man

Who has eyes for an evening sun?
Go and ask the dead man
The smell of earth, the sound of storms?
Go ask the dead man
How intense is the lightest touch?
Go and ask the dead man
Oh — go ask the dead man

They say dead men tell no tales
But if you want to hear your own heart beating
Listen well, listen well
Go ask the dead man
Go ask the dead man

How potent is the joy of fools?
Go and ask the dead man
What price these diplomatic duels?
Go ask the dead man
What sorrow in the rape of rules?
Go and ask the dead man
Oh — go ask the dead man

I love life. I’m not ready to join those who’ve died. I’m grateful that I didn’t die at 16. I’m grateful that I didn’t die at 29. When I was younger, I believed — as most of us do — that the life that stretched ahead of me was almost endless. I realize now that it’s not. It makes me live each day differently than I did at the time.

I believe that when I die, my soul will move on to a better place. But I also believe that the God who created me placed me here for reasons. It’s up to me to find those reasons and make my life worthwhile. I want to experience love again. I want to experience having my own children. I want to experience the joy of knowing that I’ve achieved the purposes for which I was put here.

Part of that, though, isn’t about the so-called big things. For me, it’s about happy dogs and purring cats. It’s about noticing clouds and rainbows, such as the one I saw in this colorful sky in June. It’s about laughing and connecting with people you love. It’s about appreciating warm smiles, the evening sun and distant storms. Most of all, it’s about appreciating the light in loved ones’ eyes.

I want to live and appreciate the beauty and tactile wonder and emotional depths of the world around me. I look forward to experiencing the next life, but I’m going to appreciate everything I can about this one. It’s a precious gift God’s given to me. I’m going to hold onto it for as long as I can force breath into my body.

No matter what your circumstances are, life can be good. It’s worth living — and it’s worth living with an open heart and with open eyes.

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We are ruled by the dumbest and most incompetent people among us — and we have a system which allows stupid and irresponsible people to force the costs of their idiocy onto smarter and wiser people. Can we get away with that? Yes, for quite some time. But we eventually reach a point at which the dumbest of the dumb — who are habitual liars and mentally ill fools — lead us to the disasters and destruction that some of us have seen coming for years. We are approaching that point. And yet most of the idiots around us still wave their rhetorical banners of support for the evil people who are leading us to ruin — and all of them point their fingers at someone else, never noticing that their own enthusiastic support of evil is to blame. When things finally fall apart, blame yourself for your blindness to the evil, not whoever happens to be in power when it happens.

I’ve been making some changes to the site lately and there are more changes coming in the days ahead, so don’t be surprised if you some small differences. This is not a wholesale redesign, but rather the addition of some features. Since they’re smarter than I am, I’ve put Oliver and Alex in charge of the technical work, which you can see in this action photo from the control room of our media complex. I recently added a series of landing pages for readers who randomly discover the site from an Internet search. I’ve also changed the YouTube link at the top of the page to go to the new YouTube channel for video essays that reflect things I’ve already published here. (Here’s a little bit about both of the YouTube channels I’m working on.) In addition, I’m trying to move away from using Instagram, so I’m experimenting with photo plug-ins that will eventually allow me to host the pictures — cats, dogs, sunsets, whatever — that I often take. So don’t be surprised to see more changes. Thanks for your patience. Let’s hope Alex and Oliver know what they’re doing.

I have no use for the theocratic and repressive government of Iran. The people who run the country are cruel at best and evil at worst. The Iranian people deserve freedom. But I have no personal quarrel with anybody in Iran. While I’m not thrilled about a future Iranian government having nuclear weapons, I’m just as concerned about nukes in the hands of politicians in Israel, Pakistan, India, China and Russia. I’m not even thrilled with the U.S., Britain and France having them, either, because I don’t trust any politicians to be responsible with such terrible weapons. All I can say with certainty is that American taxpayers have no business attacking Iran, especially since we’re being forced to pay for this attack in order to benefit the politicians of Israel — and nobody else. If Middle Eastern countries want to fight among themselves, that’s none of my business. It’s not the business of the U.S. government, either. I have no quarrel with anybody in Iran — and having the government which claims to represent me launch an unprovoked attack against a sovereign country will only make all Americans less safe in the near future. This attack is poorly conceived and morally unjustified. Remember that when the Iranians launch attacks that we will then condemn as “terrorism.” What the U.S. is doing right now looks like terrorism to me. And let’s not forget that the attack is the latest in a long line of unconstitutional wars by various U.S. presidents — who have no legal power to declare war on their own, according to the U.S. Constitution.

A child having a tantrum understands only one thing: Did I get my way or not? He doesn’t understand the issues involved. He doesn’t understand the reasons that went into a decision. He doesn’t understand any of the things that mature and reasonable adults have to understand in order to live healthy lives. By his reaction to the U.S. Supreme Court’s ruling to strike down his disastrous tariff scheme, Donald Trump shows himself to be — once more — a screaming child having a tantrum. Outside the world of mob bosses who expect to get their way every time, normal adults don’t act this way, but Trump isn’t normal. He’s an angry and vengeful man who has narcissistic personality disorder. And we are in danger as a result. Trump doesn’t understand the legal issues involved in this ruling. He doesn’t understand economics. He doesn’t understand rule of law. He doesn’t understand that he can ever be wrong. All he understands is that he didn’t get his way. And he is now a narcissistic and raging little boy who also happens to hold life-and-death power over most humans on this planet. He’s dangerous — and the system which gives him that power is even more dangerous.

Is it an attempt to blur the gender line between men and women? Or is it some weird tribute to the traditional Scottish kilt? It’s hard to say, but fashion designers keep pushing for men to wear skirts in the last few years. Both men and women in modern fashion seem oddly androgynous, as though it would be offensive for a man to look manly or for a woman to look feminine. A CNN article about the latest fashions from Paris caught my attention Monday and left me wondering about the ugly clothes the designers are hawking. If a man wants to wear a skirt — or a kilt — that’s OK with me, but I’ll stick with a traditional dark suit with a white shirt and tie. (Well, when I’m not wearing t-shirts and sweats, of course.) I always wonder who actually buys the outlandish garb from fashion designers anyway. I would be humiliated to be seen in any of this stuff, but I obviously have no sense of high fashion.

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