Midnight Rambler

Remember that song? "Midnight Rambler"? The Stones? 1969 (the year I got married!)? (Link to song.)

Well, when you get, uh, older, the term midnight rambler has a bit of a different meaning--a meaning involving a trip-in-the-dark to you-know-where. (I know: TMI.)

Anyway, last night, back from a Midnight Ramble, waiting for Morpheus to welcome me back into his soporific arms, a name popped into my head.

Harrison Bergeron.

And as I lay there--my whirling mind keeping Morpheus away--I could not for the life of me remember the source of that name.

Time passed.

A character in a story!

That I remembered. But what story? And by whom?

I fell asleep. About an hour later I woke up again--time for another (post-)Midnight Ramble. And when I returned to lie down, the author's name returned to me: Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Yes, it was Vonnegut who wrote the story "Harrison Bergeron"; it was a story that I sometimes read aloud to my students when we were reading another Vonnegut story ("The No-Talent Kid") in our 8th grade literature anthology--all this later in my public-school career: 1990s. Vonnegut first published the tale in October 1961, but I'd found it in his story collection Welcome to the Monkey House (1968).

our copy

And then that story just flooded back to me ... (link to the complete story--it's not long!).

It's the story of a time in the future when the government has declared that everyone must be equal (i.e., mediocre). People who are talented must be government-handicapped in some way. Strong people carry weights around. Attractive people must wear masks. TV announcers have speech impediments. Intelligent people wear ear devices that blast harsh sounds at intervals to distract their thinking. Dancers and musicians must be ordinary. Etc. All this is enforced by the U. S. Handicapper General.

We are in the Bergeron family home--and their son, Harrison (no longer living with them), is enormously talented and attractive. And he, apparently, is rebelling.

He shows up at a TV studio where a talented ballerina, much handicapped, is going through a dance with others. Harrison strips her of her handicaps. And they begin to dance--defying gravity itself.

Then the Handicapper General shows up ...

It's a funny conception (Vonnegut was good at that); it's got a piercing message (Vonnegut was really good at that). Equality, for him, meant equality of opportunity--not equality in all we do or achieve. Who wants to watch a Super Bowl with a bunch of ordinary players? Hire an electrician who knows only that sparks can hurt? Listen to a band with average musicians? Look at works of art produced by someone like me (who has zero artistic ability)? Read books written by ... you know?

Anyway, I was glad to remember that story--hell, these days I'm glad to remember pretty much anything!

Let's end with a light moment. When I just checked the lyrics for "Midnight Rambler," I found this at the very beginning--and laughed when I realized its relevance for Old Guys like me:

I'm a-talkin' 'bout the midnight rambler

Everybody got to go …