ShareThisBeing not particularly tolerant of other people's personal peccadilloes, I was recently alarmed to discover that I have been unconsciously humming.
This is not the worse thing -- the unconscious singing of loud operatic works is arguably more worrisome, especially if it's done in elevators -- but a man does like to know what he is doing.
It was my wife who alerted me to the situation.
"Why are you humming?" she said, none too pleased to find that my repertoire of marital irritations had expanded just when she thought she knew the full range.
Well, that's a good question. Hum, hum, hum.
After some reflection, I believe my sudden and uncharacteristic outburst of humming may take its notes from the era we live in. These are twixt and tween times.
The hum is perfectly suited to these times because it is neither one thing nor the other. The hum is not a full-blown song, which is usually a sign of spontaneous joy or else someone taking a shower.
Neither is the hum a whistle, which a signal of desperation, suitable for walking through graveyards at night, hailing a cab on a rainy day or calling a pretty female pedestrian if you are a construction worker (talk about desperation -- I've got to think that no woman has ever in the history of construction work walked over to a cement mixer to exchange phone numbers).
Not a whistle and not a song, the hum is its own thing, a neutral activity, the personal background music to marking time while waiting for something to happen. It is what a person does before the next shoe drops.
On several fronts, many of us are waiting for shoes to drop.
Hum, hum, hum.
Consider the economy. The economic stimulus package and the bailout of the financial sector have papered the country with money. This has gladdened the drunken sailor community but made many other people nervous -- including myself -- and driven yet others to foam at the mouth due to toxic ideology syndrome.
For this last group of foamers, they would be glad only if the Obama administration had let banks fail, companies go belly up and allowed mass unemployment to result. Yes, that would have set the country right.
Nevertheless, the truth about the administration's action is contained in a old proverb that an obesity-inclined nation ought to appreciate: The proof of the pudding is in the eating. This is one big pudding and we don't know how it will go down. It will either work or it won't.
For the moment, the economy presents some encouraging signs and some discouraging ones. Among the perversely encouraging ones was a recent New York Times story that reported that workers at the biggest banks are back on track to earn as much money this year as they did before the financial crunch. Happy days are here again, eh? Hum, hum, hum.
As goes the economy, so goes the ultimate success or failure of the Obama administration (and, for that matter, so goes the Party of No that has steadfastly opposed the president). The first 100 days of the administration can't be judged a success or a failure. Not yet, not according to those of us still humming.
For sheer effort, the new administration deserves an "A" but of course the president's critics miss the official arrogance of yesteryear. But it's not all good in this era of change.
For one thing, Obama has had second thoughts about his high-minded desire to move forward and not look back. He has left open the possibility that lawyers or other officials who justified the torture of suspected terrorists in the previous administration might be prosecuted.
I understand the temptation to hold them accountable, but this is a dangerously bad idea. Not only would this set off an unprecedented series of bitter partisan prosecutions with each succeeding administration, it also raises the possibility that lawyers might be put in prison among regular felons -- cruel and unusual punishment for the felons. I don't care what they have done, they don't deserve that.
Seriously, if you plant dragons' teeth, they have a way of coming up dragons -- and Obama doesn't need a fire from the past to consume his hopes for the present.
Hum, hum, hum.
It's 100 days of humming and more to come. Unless the situation is soon clarified, I may take to jiggling the change in my pocket as well as humming. Difficult times call for desperate, spouse-baffling measures.
(Reg Henry is a columnist for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. E-mail rhenry(at)post-gazette.com)
(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, www.scrippsnews.com.)
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