Transcript
Unknown Host (0:01)
If you've been having your McDonald's sausage.
Major Jackson (0:03)
McMuffin with an iced coffee from somewhere.
Unknown Host (0:06)
Else, now is a great time to reconsider. In the Pacific Northwest, it's never too cold for an iced coffee in the morning. Grab yourself a medium caramel, French vanilla or classic iced coffee for just $2.29. Beverage may cause craving for McMuffin or hash browns. Prices and participation may vary. Cannot be combined with any other offer or combo meal.
Major Jackson (0:31)
Hey, it's Major. Over the past few years I've had the great privilege of sharing poetry with you and offering a daily moment to pause and slow down. Today we're revisiting one of my favorite episodes from my time on the show. I hope you enjoy this selection. I'm Major Jackson and this is the Slowdown My very first worry in life was 12 year old Billy Mack. His father purchased a Rottweiler, a dog that he trained to be as mean as the punks who bullied Billy. He taunted my little brother and me on our way to school every day. We were never sure when Billy would run out with this beast of a dog who barked and bared his teeth as though he were the Hound of Hades himself. Most mornings we ran by his house terrified if my brother didn't securely zip up his book bag. His sandwich, his Cheez Its and his books went flying everywhere. Although it took us longer, we found a route that avoided facing off with a snarling beast. That's all it took. Well, that and a big stick I carry just in case. Many worries followed. After a childhood of observing my parents, anxieties mostly around bills, I eventually learned to embrace uncertainty. Now I almost never worry about anything from missing a flight to talking to strangers. No doubt I faced challenges. My keep it chill attitude was hard won in many instances. The future seemed unsure. I had no idea how I was going to finance my children's education. The political landscape did not simply reflect my values and beliefs. Paycheck to paycheck, living made me vulnerable to medical emergencies. After living through all manner of personal and communal tribulations, I've come to believe things will work themselves out. Yet it's not that the worries have gone away. Just like in my early days, I've learned to find ways to ease the burdens and uneasiness of living. Of course, I'm not trying to find a fully anxiety free existence. It's good to have a barking dog occasionally at one's heels. I just try to walk past it when I need to. Today's poem points comically to the omnipresence of worry, how it's rooted in the soil of our existence. Worry the Dybbuk By Anthony Emmergluck I have a worry Mother and I have a worry father, and once they shared a worry and my own worry a sprout in this worry dirt bullied by the worry weeds spoiled by the worry's sun and rain, and I the runt among a litter of suckling worries, and the worry is the current and we are its conductors, and the worry is the currency we interchange on holidays and the worry is the ribbon of rot running deep in the center of a chestnut and my worry and another worry said I do to worry. And we warm our tea with worry and we wonder if there ever was and ever could be a home with no worry chewing through the attic, and we wonder how a shoulder might shoulder unburdened by this dybbuk. And I worry that were we to land on an island without worry our worries would starve or worse, survive on each other's meat. And I worry that the worry is the best of us. After all, I only ever held a worry hand and I only ever ate a worry pastry, and I don't know why I told a worried child not to worry when surely the trick is to give the worry a name and then call it again and again. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. This project is also supported in part by the National Endowment of For the Arts on the web@arts.gov to get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter. Find us on Instagram and Twitter. LoadownShow.
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