Here I am, getting the first Ethics Alarms post up after 2:00 am, and feeling guilty. There are about ten important ethics issues and stories to be covered, and I feel I am obligated to get them covered.
But it’s going to be more difficult than usual. We just learned that two members of our household have tested positive for the Wuhan virus. I am sick with some other damn thing, basic flu symptoms plus traveling, intermittent pain in the muscles of my back and legs (no fever, no dry cough, really no Wuhan symptoms at all other than being tired). I also have a sudden backlog of paying consultant work, which takes me twice as long as it should when I’m drugged and run-down, and I am really drugged and run down.
My father and the various cultural and historical models that formed my own values, caused me to place soldiering through these kinds of obstacles high among my life’s priorities. My dad went though his post-military life walking, hiking, playing with his children and other activities with a roughly reconstructed foot—the result of a W.W. II hand grenade’s carnage—that looked like some kind of demonic potato. He never complained or used it as an excuse to beg out of what he considered his duties; I remember saying to my mother, “It’s amazing that Dad does everything he does with a foot that looks like that. I would think it would hurt him.” She said, “Are you kidding? His foot hurts him terribly all the time.” My father’s attitude was that tough times, seemingly overwhelming challenges and misfortunes were inevitable and were such intrinsic aspects of life that to overreact to them or allow yourself to be paralyzed in their wake was foolish. One of his favorite quotes was
“One day as I sat musing, sad and lonely without a friend, a voice came to me from out of the gloom saying, ‘Cheer up. Things could be worse.’ So I cheered up and sure enough—things got worse.”
He didn’t expect any cosmic reward for not giving in to adversary; quite the contrary. He just believed that if you let bad luck and tragedies defeat you, you were doomed, because they were coming, and would keep coming.
My heroes exhibited the same determination: Teddy Roosevelt delivering a speech after being shot in the chest; Winston Churchill holding to his personal motto of “Keep buggering on,” General Eisenhower ordering the D-Day invasion under the worst conditions imaginable; Red Sox pitcher Curt Schilling taking the mound in a critical play-off game with a displaced tendon roughly sewn to the back of his foot. My parallel life in theater absorbed “the show must go on” ethos as a life mission, though admittedly I took it to extremes sometimes, as when I insisted that an outdoor performance go on during a lightning storm, or when I refused to end a rehearsal after the building we were rehearsing in caught fire.
All of this is to say that I apologize for the limitations on my activity here, and hope readers understand that nobody feels worse about this than I do.
And I assure you that if a lightning storm won’t stop me, whatever’s happening now won’t either, at least not for long.
Ethics Alarms 
Jack your words are inspiring. I hope you and everyone there gets better soon.
Wishing you and yours speedy and uneventful recoveries!
Hang in there, Jack. Or should I say, break a leg, because the show must go on. And you will make sure that is so.
Have recently been captivated by the Canadian produced show ‘Slings and Arrows’ available on AcornTV about a primarily Shakespearean festival and all the obstacles and self-inflicted wounds any organization could handle. Perhaps you know it? Worth a look if you don’t.
Keep on keepin’ on.
Jim
You know why you say Break A Leg to actors?
Every play needs a cast…
Get well soon, Jack.
I’m very sorry for all your troubles. I hope things pick up and that all of you feel better soon.
You forgot William Henry Harrison; he did not let a little cold weather hold him back.
-Jut
Yeah, that worked out well.
Sometimes, discretion is the better part of valor.
-Jut
In “The Alamo,” Davy Crockett (the Duke) says that right before everyone decides to stay with Travis…
Get well soon, Jack. I wish a speedy recovery for your family members, too.
jvb
I am sorry to hear that your household has been taken ill. I hope that you will all have a speedy and complete recovery. Yours is the one blog I read without fail, and go back to read any posts I might have missed.
best wishes to you & yours
You all get better soon.
Jack, your readership will survive without your five times or so daily entertaining and articulate posts. Isn’t “Don’t be a hero” a worthwhile maxim? Sick people need rest in order to regain their health. Open Forums are always fun.
Jack, I am sorry that your family is ill, and I wish you all a speedy and complete recovery. Please rest as needed, and heal.
We’re all rooting for you and your family Jack. Do what you can to take care of yourself.
I am curious if anyone’s going to request Hydroxychloroquine or not.
Jack, you obviously picked up a good bit of the grit and determination your father modeled, but, really, you could ease off this blog just a bit, temporarily. We all want you and your family to get well soon and getting the rest you need is a big part of that. And, we know you’ll come roaring back. Here’s wishing you all a fast recovery.
John
Jack, the battles you take on in the name of Ethics require something none of your heroes had to deal with. Your enemy is faceless. Its weapon is an ever growing armory of rationalizations. In order to win, you need to strip its armor away and leave it naked, having to for the first time in its life, recognize right and wrong and choose the former. All the enemy has to do is turn its back on you, stick its finger in its ears and walk away, muttering to itself, leaving you to run backwards in front of it hitting it with bits of Ethical logic, argument, example, and unmistakable facts (often couched in the seductive language of baseball) until you strike a chink in its thick skin. None of the other men you mentioned ever had to fight like this, and for so long. You are bound to continue, nonetheless. And so you shall, once you get past this temporary infirmity. Rest. Hydrate. Manage pain sensibly: to endure it is to permit it to stay and do its worst. As O.B. says, more directly than me, you may leave the care of your fort to your loyal cohort.
Hi Jack,
I’d rather miss your posts for a day or a week than for a month or forever. Take a break and take care of yourself and your family. Heal well and come back with vigor, enthusiasm, and clarity of mind. We’ll be waiting.
Hate to hear you’re having to deal with all that. Hang in there, but don’t (maybe literally) kill yourself.
If there’s one thing it’s taken me a while to learn, it’s that it’s more than okay to take a break from obligations to care for yourself and those close to you. (Granted, I’m still breaking the habit of avoiding obligations in the first place, but the point stands.)
Don’t worry about us; we all want you to be able to focus on getting better and making sure your family gets better as well. Wishing you all a rapid return to full health!
Hope everyone gets well soon!
Take care,oh Ethics guru. Rest up and get well soon.
Get well soon!