Unsung Un-Heroes

I was at Starbucks yesterday and saw my friend Mudd sitting at one of the tables sipping a Latte. Mudd looked depressed. I asked why.

“I was thinking about the songs we sing in our society,” he said.

“Pretty crappy, eh?”

“Well, no but they’re all about love or heroes.”

“There are unsung heroes,” I responded. No matter how heroic they are, nobody even sjngs about them in the shower.”

“That’s true,” he said.

“We have to keep our mouths shut about unsung heroes,” I said. “If anybody sang about them they would not be unsung.” I was trying to be helpful, but the truth is, I was totally confused why I would want to help in this situation.

“But the heroes they do sing about – they’re all heroes.”

“I think that makes sense,” I said. “Whatever you think of all these wars we fight, the men and women who serve are all heroes. Every one of them. They deserve all the honor we can pay them.”

“Yes, but what about the scoundrels? Why doesn’t anyone ever sing about them?”

“Sing about scoundrels, are you nuts?”

“Why not?” he asked.

“We’d be singing about the Bush Administration. If we started singing about scoundrels we’d never stop singing.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he said.

“There would be a huge run on throat lozenges. People would get sick of it. We wouldn’t get anything else done. We’d be singing day and night.”

“You wouldn’t have to go operatic,” he said. “I mean, I can’t imagine Pavarotti singing the opera Figaro about Donald Rumsfeld.”

“That would be pretty ridiculous, wouldn’t it?” I said.

“Which one is ridiculous?” he asked. “Donald Rumsfeld or anyone singing about him?”

“Take your pick on that one.”

He went on as if he had not heard what I said. “It would keep people from forgetting about Bush. He’d be gone but not forgotten.”

The idea made me sick. “I want to forget about Bush. I’ve wanted that for a hundred years.”

“But Bush has only been president for eight years.”

“It seemed like a hundred. Besides, would you want to sing about Dick Cheney and all those sweetheart deals he swung to his company Halliburton?”

“If you don’t want to sing about it, we could at least hum a few bars. Give Dick that much.”

I’d like to give Dick something, alright. Then I had a thought. “Come to think of it, singing about Cheney is a great idea. As a matter of fact, I wish Cheney would start singing.”

“Not gonna happen,” he said. “They tried to get him to sing about the Valerie Plame scandal. He wouldn’t sing a note.”

“Not than king of ‘singing.’ I am talking about I want him to sing a real song,” I said.

“What is the title?” he asked.

“I Fought the Law and the Law Won.”