How dare we dance, laugh, goof off during coronavirus pandemic? How dare we not

People are dancing during a global pandemic. It’s true.

Pictures of a family’s impromptu “kitchen dance party” recently circulated through my Facebook feed. A dish towel twirled above Mom’s head; the kids were frozen in time, arms and legs akimbo; one of them appeared to be singing, and in the background was dad, stirring something on the stove, no doubt tapping his toes.

“Sorry if I don’t feel like dancing when so many people are out of work or dying,” someone wrote in the comments.

Ouch. The writer of said comment - Let’s call her Fran - had a point: During this global pandemic, millions are unemployed. Folks are sick. Every day the death toll rises. How dare we have fun?

I wanted to nod my head and agree with level-headed Fran, but I could only think of lessons gleaned from watching reruns of my favorite television hero, Hawkeye Pierce, from the 1970s’ show “M*A*S*H.”

I pictured Hawkeye, played brilliantly by Alan Alda, saying in his best sardonic tone: How dare we not have fun, Fran?

For those unacquainted with “M*A*S*H,” Hawkeye was a surgeon. His job entailed sewing bodies torn apart on the frontlines of the Korean War. He and fellow members of the 4077th Mobile Army Surgical Hospital showed me and the rest of the TV-watching world how best to endure life’s hardships.

“If we don’t go crazy once in awhile, we’ll all go crazy” was a Hawkeye motto. The ability to manufacture silliness and make jokes during times of tragedy and uncertainty were matters of survival on “M*A*S*H,” sometimes the only antidote to tedium and homesickness.

For Hawkeye, being silly was an act of defiance, a philosophy seconded by another hero of mine, filmmaker/comedian Mel Brooks, who once told a reporter: “The only way to disempower evil is to ridicule it. Bring it down with laughter.”

And that’s what many of us are doing during this landslide of suffering caused by COVID-19. We’re trying to bring it down with laughter.

The way I see it, every time we goof off, make a silly video or shake our moneymakers to some sick beat, we commit an act of rebellion against an enemy that’s stolen our way of life but shouldn’t be allowed to steal our joy. Not without a fight.

These are tough times. In 2020, it’s pretty evident that toilet paper will be a strong contender for Time Magazine’s person of the year. So, yes, we best be irreverent and silly when we can.

I’m not advocating for fun at all times. What made Hawkeye’s character relatable is that he also registered grief and outrage brought out by the war; if he hadn’t, he would’ve been nothing more than a calloused clown.

I learned the hard way that pain and laughter aren’t mutually exclusive. When my daughter was dying from cancer, we lay nose to nose in her hospital bed. She punctured a long period of silence by saying, “They won’t have to wonder what killed me.”

To my “Huh?” she answered, “Your breath, Mom, your breath.”

It hurt us both to laugh, but we did it anyway.

A crisis forces all of us to cycle through the wheel of human emotions. The problem is, not all of us land on the same feeling at the same time.

The moment I could use some comic relief is the same moment another person needs a little reverence. So this is where grace enters the picture, as in we need to be more generous with the stuff.

Throw it everywhere; at your spouse, your kids, your co-workers, your social media friend who just posted her fifth Instagram selfie of a new yoga pose. Way to show off, Adrienne, when you know I don’t bend.

This time of isolation and fear will eventually end, but there is no vaccine for life’s sorrows. They eventually find us, which is why, when we can, let’s turn up the music and dance.

News Tribune editorial writer Karen Irwin lives in North Tacoma and can be reached at karen.irwin@thenewstribune.com

This story was originally published May 3, 2020 at 12:00 PM.