A Thousand Shards of Glass

4 DEAR LORD CLINT, WHO ART IN CARMEL

That’s what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.

Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things (1997)

In one of his films, the great American philosopher Clint Eastwood plays a character who suggests that a man should know his limitations. It is unfortunate then that Mr. Eastwood did not heed his character’s advice before addressing the Republican convention in Tampa, Florida.

The day after his speech I went for my early-morning walk along the ocean in Carmel, California. As I stared at Point Lobos in the distance, a woman I did not know, and had not seen approach, struck up a conversation by rather giddily asking if I had ‘watched’ Eastwood’s speech.

‘Well, if Mr. Eastwood ever feared that he would be seen as a gracious, kind and thoughtful man, he need not fear that any longer.’

I found this statement rather odd because the woman did not seem as if she was from the area. Her accent suggested the Midwest.

‘Well, I can see how Jesus Christ got started, but I have never been a good apostle for anyone. I’m curious, madam, if you were given the opportunity to speak to three or four hundred million people, would you not fret and reflect about what you might say? Would you not want to appeal to people’s better angels or speak to Americans seriously, perhaps suggesting we should work together in spite of our differences for the benefit of the most vulnerable of our citizens? Would you not talk about how such a pursuit was not only possible, but noble and kind and simply the right thing to do?

‘Instead, Mr. Eastwood chose to joke about things being shoved up people’s rectums while in the Republican hall the good “family value” Christians cheered him on, children in hand. No, I did not like his speech, for it showed what I believe is the worst of us and further demonstrated that we are not in this together.’

Since Eastwood’s performance and that early-morning exchange I have been haunted by the idea of opportunities not merely missed, but thrown away. Opportunities to speak to each other on a higher and more thought-provoking level; opportunities to be more kind and generous for the sake of those virtues alone; opportunities to look deeper into ourselves and to question our own motives and desires.

Eastwood’s vulgar joking appeared to be more about his ego than anything else, and there was a carelessness in his words that seemed a metaphor for the country itself; but then I realized it was no mere metaphor, but an attitude increasingly enveloping the land and the people, an attitude borne of indifference and an absence of critical thinking. This kind of carelessness seems to be surrounding us these days and, as the Republican convention recently demonstrated, is being applauded as well.

Since that night I have thought about what I would have said if someone had given me the extraordinary opportunity to address millions of people. I would have been terrified, of course – not for myself but for my words. I would have wanted them to mean something, to express how much I cared, not just for America and Americans but for the world and its people and how we are all connected on this planet. I would have reminded the people and myself that our lives are short and that, to do good, they must involve the virtues of kindness, generosity and empathy.

Perhaps I would have referred to Thomas Paine and said that the world was my country and that my religion was to do good, or I would have tried to convince people on all sides of the political and cultural spectrum that in spite of all of our differences, perhaps we could agree that poverty is a scourge, or that corporations, while being allowed to do business, should not be allowed a larger voice than that of a single citizen or be able to corrupt the basic foundations of our government. I would have asked if we could agree that while business and jobs are important, they alone do not define us and I would have tried to find a way to ask the believers among us to consider employing a bit more doubt and humility in their sometimes rather unyielding beliefs. I would have pleaded that we not destroy people’s lives simply because they have had the misfortune of becoming ill. I would have suggested that if we could agree in principle about these things then surely, as a good and decent people, we could find a way to make those same things a reality for the benefit of all Americans, as has been done at other times in our past.

I would have fretted and worried over my words because I would have wanted them to convey my respect for my fellow citizens and to express my sense of responsibility to the rest of the world.

One day, as I rushed across the parking lot toward the local hospital’s entrance, I saw a familiar face approaching. It was Clint Eastwood. I had heard some days before that his mother was very ill and possibly close to death. As he came closer, I could see that he was sad.

As I entered the hospital, I gave a last passing thought to Mr. Eastwood, not because he was a celebrity but because he was a fellow human being who seemed terribly worried about someone he loved and heartbroken at the thought of losing them. I wished him well.

Over a year later it was I who was rushing to the hospital, terrified that I might lose someone that I dearly loved. As my wife and I went through those first terrible months, I thought back to that chance meeting in the hospital parking lot the year before and wondered if people like Mr. Eastwood ever thought about people like my wife and me, about what we have gone through and how afraid we Americans are at being taken advantage of or harmed in our darkest hour by entities that see numbers, not people, and who control more and more of our lives. I wondered if he ever wished people like us well.

I had assumed the answer was yes but sadly, after listening to Mr. Eastwood’s careless words, delivered to many in the hall who represented the very business entities that have caused so much harm, it felt to me as though he never gave people like my wife a second’s thought.

If true, how sad, all those opportunities and kindnesses thrown away. In spite of his careless words I still wish Mr. Eastwood well, partly because to do otherwise would be to lose a bit of my own humanity.