Ol’ Man River
‘Ol Man River’ refers primarily to a famous song from the 1927 musical Show Boat, written by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II, which reflects on the enduring Mississippi River and contrasts it with the hardships faced by African Americans:
Here we all work 'long the Mississippi
Here we all work while the white folk play
Pullin' them boats from the dawn 'till sunset
Gettin' no rest 'till the judgment day
Don't look up and don't look down
You don't das make the boss man frown
Bend your knees and bow your head
And pull that rope until your dead
Let me go 'way from the Mississippi
Let me go 'way from the white man boss
Show me that stream called the river Jordan
That's the old stream that I long to cross
Ol' man river, that ol' man river
He don't say nothin', but he must know somethin'
He just keeps rollin', he keeps on rollin' along
He don't plant tatters, and he don't plant cotton
And them what plants em, are soon forgotten
But ol' man river, just keeps rollin' along
You and me, we sweat and strain
Body all achin' and racked with pain
Tote that barge and lift that bail
You get a little drunk and you lands in jail
I gets weary, and sick of trying
I'm tired of livin', but I'm scared of dyin'
But ol' man river, he just keeps rollin' along
Chapter 1 of Ecclesiastes describes the ceaseless, repetitive cycles of nature, such as the sun rising and setting, and rivers flowing, to illustrate how generations repeat the same patterns without true change or lasting satisfaction. The central message is that life, when viewed from a purely physical perspective, offers no enduring meaning, similar to trying to grasp smoke or wind.
Futile days we can expect from time to time. Some of what we plan will miscarry. Paths that look promising will peter out and force us to backtrack. Pillars that we lean on will collapse and send our hopes tumbling down on us.
College president David Hubbard laments:
‘When sickness strikes or financial reverses hit, futile days stretch into empty weeks or months. There have been times when we heaved huge sighs as we ripped December's page from the calendar and welcomed a new year that offered better days than the old. This futility is akin to irony, because it is full of surprises. We find it where we least expect it. Values that we treasure prove false; efforts that should succeed come to failure; pleasures that should satisfy increase our thirst. Ironic futility, futile irony—that is the colour of life. ..
(Beyond Futility, David Hubbard, Grand Rapids,Eerdsmans Publishing, 1976)