My Grandma had a wealth of sayings, and one of them was “Don’t Care was made to care, and locked in a box ‘til he did.”
She would say it to me whenever I scuffed my shoes mutinously and declared that I didn’t in fact, care about whatever it was we were arguing about. In truth I heard her say it quite often.
Mind you, she also used to say “Cheer up for Chatham, Dover’s in sight!”, whatever that meant!
However, as time went by, I discovered that not caring was quite a healthy attitude to take, if the alternative was to care deeply but powerlessly. I soon developed my own remedy: the I-Don’t-Care Song and Dance™ which was put into practice whenever things at work became too irritating for any other words. My colleagues soon joined in and we started the IDC Club.
“Well, EBL!” I hear you cry, “That’s very disappointing of you! I thought you cared about Stuff.”
Get used to disappointment, my dears, for EBL has feet of clay, and if not clay, possibly Play-Doh.
Do I care about you, my gorgeous readers? Of course I do. I do in fact care passionately after all, about things that matter to me. I care about all manner of people and animals and plants, and causes and ideas and art and science and beauty. I care about literature and history and adventure and even peace.
I don’t care about having my time wasted or being ignored or under-estimated, or being queue jumped or patronised or taken for granted. I don’t care because caring would waste my time even more.
The alternatives can be explored through the medium of song, much as the IDC Club expresses its philosophy in performance art. Let us compare the fortunes of other exponents of this paradigm.
Afroman might have cared, but he got high.
Will Smith might have cared but he got jiggy.(or possibly fresh, maybe both at the same time)
Paul and Art did care and they got walked over. In a bridging sense.
So, EBL, what are the words/music/moves to your amazing and uplifting song of defiance?
I could tell you, but I don’t care. Nor do I care about the music, nor the steps.
Sing your own song, that’s the secret, and always has been.
Namaste. (I really do!)