The title to this essay is a very practical one. The “abiding” part has to do with some thoughts that have remained in my brain for the better part of 80 years. The “conclusion” part has to do with these statements which allow no room for debate. And, finally, you will be surprised to know that the title of this essay springs from my thoughts about an old Protestant hymn called “Abide with me.” The first verse of that old hymn contains these lines:

Abide with me.
Fast falls the even tide,
The darkness deepens.
Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers fail
And comforts flee,
Help of the helpless,
Oh, abide with me.

I am not quite sure if the authors of that old hymn view it as the opening lines of an iconoclast’s essay. But the fault lies not with me but with the authors of that hymn. They are the ones who put the abiding conclusions firmly in place in my brain for the past 80 years. Now, having introduced you to a hymn of the Protestant faith, I think that we can proceed with abiding conclusions.
There are six in number. The first abiding conclusion comes from Walter Nollmann, who happens to be our son-in-law. Walter is properly wed to my elder daughter, a fact to which I can attest because I attended their wedding.
For the many years that the New York Jets, a football team, have been in existence, Walter has followed their fortunes assiduously. I am not that much of a football fan because of the brutality involved in the game. But in any event, it seems to me that over many years, the New York Jets have had a tendency to lose their games in the last few minutes. Sometimes the loss involves stupid penalties and other times it involves not being on top of clock management. But be that as it may, Walter Nollmann has made the following abiding conclusion to which I subscribe. Walter has said that, “In the end, you know that the New York Jets are always going to break your heart.” There is no argument about his conclusion. A fact is a fact. And so the fans of the New York Jets always proceed into games knowing that sooner or later the Jets will break your heart.
Now we proceed to an abiding conclusion from a gentleman for whom I have the highest respect. That would be Wayne Johnson.
Wayne is a plumber extraordinaire who has some observations about life, particularly here and in New York. Wayne attended a trade school where he learned the art of plumbing, which he practices with great artistry.
Upon learning of my blindness four and a half years ago, Wayne accepted a cup of coffee from Judy, my wife, and sat down in a living room chair. Early in the conversation, Wayne said to me, “I see you have had a bit of a setback.” From that point the conversation flowed freely and I explained to him what glaucoma amounted to. It was a great relief to discuss blindness openly with a person whom I greatly respect. Compare that to the experience of a treasured friend who had had a mastectomy. She has reported that in some of her conversations with people she has known a long time, they make great efforts to avoid the use of the word “cancer.” An identical avoidance occurs when the subject is blindness. In Wayne’s case, he said that he had observed that I had “a bit of a setback” and that I was doing everything possible to overcome it. As I said, that was four and a half years ago and my memory of that discussion vividly remains with me. It is for that reason that I have included it in my abiding conclusion essay.
Now let us turn to Tom Eadone, who for many years operated a limousine service based in Chatham, New Jersey. Tom was a native of Newark, New Jersey and he distrusted politicians of all stripes. His distrust was well-placed because there are not many politicians blessed with honesty who come from the Newark background. On one occasion, Tom offered this abiding conclusion. Mr. Eadone said, “I never trust a politician who spent more on his campaign than the job would pay him.”
As you can see, those words of caution have long been with us. Regularly politicians up to and including the federal level spend more on their campaigns than the jobs that they seek would ever think about paying them. Michael Bloomberg, who spent an inordinate amount of money to be elected mayor of New York City for his third term, would be the prime candidate for violating Tom Eadone’s rule. But Tom’s cautious thought is a thorough abiding conclusion. Never trust a politician who spends more on his campaign than the job will pay.
The next abiding conclusion comes from my favorite hardware store owner, who goes by the name of Lefty Vincendese. Lefty has survived the landing of 1944 at Omaha Beach. As happens to most of us, as age bears down upon our shoulders, two or three severe ailments have tended to slow Lefty down. He is more than 80 years of age, so that is fully understandable. In recent years, Crohn’s Disease has descended upon Lefty. I gather that Crohn’s Disease is a painful ailment. On one occasion, Judy, my wife, asked Lefty how he was feeling. Lefty responded by saying, “I will never feel good again.”
There seems to be an affinity between not feeling well and aging. If Crohn’s Disease is thrown into the mix, it is entirely understandable why Lefty would say that he does not look forward to feeling good again during his remaining years. The point is that Lefty was not seeking anybody’s pity. He was merely stating a fact that should have been apparent to all of us. After Lefty made that remark, I concluded that it had to be involved in our abiding conclusions. It is one of the greatest.
Now let us go on to a personal involvement of mine. In 1942, when I enlisted in the American Army, there was a six-week period of training in Las Vegas, New Mexico where dust pervaded the drill field as well as the barracks and the mess halls. There was a corporal there who was put in charge of training my platoon. Somewhere along the line, he wanted us to march in an oblique fashion. That means marching at a 45˚ angle as opposed to left flank, which is 90˚, or right flank or straight forward.
Clearly, the corporal was having trouble with what he wanted us to do and at one point I spoke up. I said to the corporal, “I think I can help you.” Instantly the corporal said, “Soldier, you don’t get paid for thinking. You get paid for doing whatever you are told to do.” That event took place 68 years ago or thereabouts, and I have not forgotten it. Presumably if I had stayed in the American Army I might now be a staff sergeant or perhaps even a colonel. But I elected to leave the Army at the first opportunity. But I have always remembered the thought that “Soldier, you don’t get paid for thinking.” So it is inevitable that it be included in our abiding conclusions.
The final thought has to do with Dell van Buren Barbee. In a previous essay, I explained that Dell was the car washer in one of the filling stations in which I worked. Dell had two or three years of schooling in a Mississippi school house for black people. I suspect that it was not of the Harvard level. But Dell could make his points reasonably clear. On a cold winter’s day when rain obliterated the Missouri landscape, Dell offered these unsolicited thoughts to me about relations between the sexes. I will clean this up as best I can; I believe you will get his meaning. Dell van Buren Barbee said, “If God invented something better than f..ing, he kept it for hisself.” I made no attempt to correct Dell’s grammar because I was overwhelmed by the logic of his remark.
So there are the six instances of abiding conclusions. Many of them have appeared in earlier essays but have never been brought together in this context. I am going to offer these abiding conclusions to my grandsons, which will give them a firm footing as they proceed in life. On the other hand, they may have little value at all. I cannot escape the conclusion that the words “Soldier, you don’t get paid for thinking” are of inestimable value. If we had clear thinking like that coming from our politicians, we might have avoided the near meltdown of our financial institutions. But then again, perhaps nothing could be done about the recession or depression that is upon us.
This essay started with a Protestant hymn, which is a magnificent piece of music. It can be sung as a solo; it lends itself to duets as well as trios
and quartets, as well as to choirs. And I can only repeat those lines about all of us growing older, saying “Help of the helpless, abide with me.” If there is anything that the deities can work on, it might be to stop the aging process. But I am here to tell you that it ain’t going to happen any time soon.
E. E. CARR
January 27, 2010
Essay 433
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Kevin’s commentary:
This is easily one of my favorite essays that I’ve posted in several weeks.
More on football brutality here.
Regarding politicians and payments, I am not sure it would be possible to find many who fit the criterion of the campaign costing less than the job. The highest office in the land is paid $400,000 a year, whereas the cost of a presidential campaigns runs into the dozens if not hundreds of millions. Now, if that rule only applies to out-of-pocket fundraising, perhaps a few more would fall into the net prescribed but it would still eliminate a sizable chunk. Romney, for instance, would only make $1.6 million as president for four years, whereas he personally contributed around $35 million to his own campaign.
In China that situation is even more interesting; officially, government salaries are very low, yet they are the most sought-after jobs in the country. People will buy a job that “pays” $2,500 a month for a million dollars, because it comes with the power to take bribes and generally be a corrupt asshole and make lots of cash.. A majority of the government in that country is run in this way.
More on  “you don’t get paid for thinking” here and here.