San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
WITH A SHRUG & A SMILE
Lessons from Barbara Jones on not giving a damn
As the world descends into panic and hysteria, this seems like a good time to invoke my dear departed mother, Barbara Jones. She was the master of mellow. Sickness, poverty, betrayal, uncertainty — she could withstand pretty much anything with a shrug and a smile and a “Que sera, sera!” My mother had dementia for decades, but even before that she was the most relaxed person on the planet. In these perilous times, I think we could all benefit from her ways. When bad things happened (and trust me, they often did at our house), she acknowledged the misfortune but it never crept into her subconscious. She rarely experienced stress.
She was a model of existentialism, without even knowing what that is. Even into her 80s, she had no wrinkles and was on zero medication. And that’s despite living with some serious, chronic health conditions and a diet consisting almost entirely of yogurt and See’s candy.
What was her secret? It was that a) she expected the worst at every turn so was constantly in a state of pleasant surprise, and b) she actually didn’t care that much. She was not attached to specific outcomes. Once we had a golden retriever puppy that escaped the backyard and chased our car onto the main road, where he promptly met his maker. My mom shrugged it off, saying, “It happens! People leave gates open. Dogs chase cars. It’s a
Barbara Jones is recalled by her daughter as a model of existentialism.
miracle it doesn’t happen 400 times a day.”
She was also very calm. She could sit for hours and just stare at house plants. Some might call that lazy, but truly it is a skill unto itself. Try it! Whole spiritual and philosophical movements have been founded on that very practice: the art of doing nothing. She was very good at it.
Of course, she had her role models, too. Namely, Julie Andrews. In my mom’s later years, she watched “Sound of Music” three or four times a day, and why not? Is there any ill not cured by “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens”? I always hated that movie, but maybe Julie Andrews was on to something.
If she had lived to see coronavirus, my mom would have said something like, “Blech! Off the list!” and gone back to watching the philodendrons. Her other favorite expression was, “Three steps forward, two steps back.” That’s an apt diagnosis for all of human civilization these days. Granted, my mother was not much interested in the news. She would say she loved reading, and often sit with the New Yorker on her lap — upside down. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s time for us all to detach a little, focus on something besides the calamity befalling the world. Tune out the nightly news and turn on some Rodgers and Hammerstein.
I recently made the stupid decision to brave Safeway and was appalled at the poor behavior of my fellow humans. Hoarding, coughing, cutting in line, elbowing seniors out of the way for that last bottle of Clorox. I had a momentary panic attack at the wretchedness of it all. What is to become of us? The poor checker said that was actually a good day.
The only way I endured the line and made it safely back to my car was by channeling Barbara Jones. People are stockpiling toilet paper? The economy is in freefall? Infections are spreading and the future is deeply uncertain? Que sera, sera! It’s a miracle things aren’t 400 times worse.
Carolyn Jones is a former Chronicle staff writer. Email culture@sfchronicle