Musical Chairs

The game children play. Running around a circle of chairs, creating chaos with their screams and giggles. Look at us now! The joys of life with such simple dreams. What to be? What to do? Who will win? Who will lose? The music plays and stops while chairs slowly begin to disappear. Oh, my goodness, look out my dear! From afar, this looks to be something adults without children would want to stay as far away from. For the fun of ringing eardrums for the remainder of the day from noisy kids is something most would pass on. If you don't love the child or know them, why be apart of the madness and anticipation of kids knocking each other off of wooden or plastic chairs?

Musical Chairs could also be a metaphor for what's happening at the moment in our society, particularly in our government. If you swing to the right or voted for the guy currently in office, I'd stop reading now and click to a different page. This isn't for you. 

At the beginning of last month, I wrote a blog post about why I was avoiding the cable news. Though I do watch it from time to time. It's baffling to see reporters report on the news when it's clear they cannot believe all of this swirling chaos is happening at once. The music plays as one staff member joins the game only to be kicked out by the next round because of conflicts or disagreements or anything else the public will know and won't know. 

As I'm writing this, the news of a recently hired person to the guy in office put in his resignation is less than three hours old. The hired person or "employee" got the job eleven days ago. That's right, eleven days ago. He hadn't even begun work at the White House. The wound is still wide opened as kids fall, running over each other to chairs none of them actually want.

The guy running the game isn't good at commanding everyone to do their job. He'll put chairs in, take some out, play the music too long which causes three kids to fall down from absolute exhaustion. And the onlookers, the people who aren't even at the party, wonder why this guy is in charge. No one wants to work for him! The people outside the bubble of this party can see that. And yet, most at the party watching the guy control the music as the kids go around in circles until everything they see it's dizzy are the parents who know what's going on and are perfectly fine with this. Though there are a few there who are beginning to see what this guy could possibly be doing. The few who see the situation for what it really is can see that the kids just want cake and to quit the game.

The kids have proven their loyalty to be as competitive as they can be and do the work to win the game. But it doesn't matter to the one manipulating how the game goes, he's too focused on what's insignificant and what doesn't matter. The guy in charge is a kid himself and is creating hell for everyone else.

The onlookers walk away, stumbled by the craze and delusion in most of the parent's eyes. Conversations consist of thankfulness of living a kid free life and what would happen if the possibility of that being their future fill the onlookers' interactions for the next few hours. What kind of parent is willing to put up with so much in so little time? The laughing and screaming and changing of directions? Why is one doing this? The guy who is running everything has an obsession with everyone knowing he's the one in control. As the game carries on, he stumbles over the people just to remind them that he's the one running things. And how he won everything fairly. The people who support him praise his ways. The people who like him say with a simple laugh, okay. The ones who don't understand why he's there question his behavior. 

Why does this matter?

Go back to doing your job!

What's the point of this motionless distraction?

What the parent party goers don't see is his friends stealing the cake and gifts while the kids slowly skip in circles. It's all a scam for getting what he wants. There will be news of this the following day. The parents won't care because the kids are tired and that's all that matters. They may not even believe the news because how could reporters know if they weren't there. The guy was nice! He was great! He gave us an extra day to do what we want to do! The onlookers will shake their heads in disbelief, subconsciously knowing this could have been the outcome. And now it is. How sad. There was a reason why that music was playing on and on for hours on end and gave everyone headaches. The one who questioned his behavior wondered why none of the parents saw this happening. Who was being responsible? Are they all kids?   

The game is continuing. The kids who are still in are running around with stale cake in their hands, prizes from being the most competitive people alive. They survived and won the loyalty of the guy with the terrible music. What they don't know is that this is only the beginning. 

When they eventually quit the game, one by one, the reporters and onlookers will speculate and wonder what went on during the longest short period of time. Why so many games of musical chairs played in the White House? How can the guy in office want a clean slate when he hasn't anything accomplished besides complaining and yelling and tweeting between two to four in the morning? 

We're living in a very divided and heightened time in this country. As you can probably tell, I'm not pleased by all that is being reported at the moment and that's putting it mildly. Though the reporters and media are doing a damn good job at keeping up with the swirling chaos surrounding the White House and the guy in office. I would rather say something else but I won't because it's not worth it. There's no point to adding a flame to the already burning fire, it's big and chaotic enough. 

I am an onlooker, who sees things that aren't normal, that isn't all right. I am an onlooker, who listens and reads the news while wondering how exactly we got here. I am an onlooker, who fears with others about what this unstable portion of the government will do to us and our country. I am an onlooker, who overhears conversations with differing perspectives that simply cannot see the other side. I am an onlooker, who stands with other onlookers in solidarity.