In 2014, comedian, musician, podcaster and Nashvillian Chris Crofton asked the Scene for an advice column, so we gave him one. Crowning himself the “Advice King,” Crofton shares his hard-won wisdom with whoever seeks it. Follow Crofton on Twitter and Instagram (@thecroftonshow), and check out his The Advice King Anthology and Cold Brew Got Me Like podcast. To submit a question for the Advice King, email bestofbread@gmail.com.
Dear Advice King,
How can I maintain joy in the current situation? When I think of all the people suffering, I wonder if it’s even appropriate to try to maintain joy. Is it better to deny myself joy in solidarity with those who couldn’t possibly find it?
—Courtney in Los Angeles
Thanks for the question, Courtney! The current situation is quite bad. There’s no way around it. All the values we were taught growing up — in our schools and churches — have been discarded. “What are those values?” a modern-day American child might ask, since they are well on their way to being forgotten. Well, those values were things like, “love your neighbor” and “you shouldn’t lie” and “you shouldn’t be mean to people just because they don’t look like you.” We were taught to share. We learned that Jesus loved the poor. We learned that it was hard for rich people to get into heaven — something about camels and needles. “What’s the matter with rich people?” I might have asked, back in the old (20th century) days of my American youth. An adult would have said something like, “Well, there’s only so much to go around, so if you take too much, there might not be enough for someone else. That’s why we talk about how important sharing is. That’s how Jesus did it, you see.”
Oh yeah, I almost forgot: “Judge not lest you be judged.” And, “He who is without sin, cast the first stone.”
But that’s all gone now. Now we’ve got people in power in America who insult immigrants. People who call the poor “parasites.” Meanwhile, they’ve hoarded so much wealth that they’ll never get into heaven — according to the camel, the needle and me. Me, with my old-timey, out-of-style (20th century) American Christian values. These folks who call poor people parasites also call themselves “Christians,” strangely.
But they don’t love their brothers and sisters. They judge them, starve them and insult them. One guy even did a “Roman salute” on TV. By the way, I’ve been around for ... um, a while, and I’ve never heard someone describe that gesture as a “Roman salute” in my whole goddamn life. Us old-time 20th century American Christians used another, much more common name to describe that gesture. But what do I know? I’m such an old and out-of-touch American that I still think lying is bad! Ha. I’m such a cuck. Just like Jesus, right?
I may have digressed, Courtney, but I’ll bring it back around now.
Housing for All targets five bills in ongoing effort to address urban, suburban and rural housing crunch
The other morning I was walking toward the building where I work. I struggled financially all winter, and I finally found a job recently. It was only my second week. My job is in downtown Nashville, and it’s a pretty long walk from the parking garage to the office. It was very cold.
It’s not an easy job, and it doesn’t pay a lot, but I was feeling grateful for it. And I’d had some coffee. I brewed it at home, and I was feeling grateful that I could afford my rent, my heating bill and some coffee — I know not everybody has all that. Plus, a strong cup of coffee always makes me feel hopeful.
So between the coffee and the new job, I was feeling a little ... JOY. Joy is the engine that drives us, you see. It doesn’t have to be the kind of joy that makes you jump up and down — it can simply be the kind of joy that gets you out of bed and walking toward work. Joy is the thing that keeps us alive — and that is very useful. Because if I wasn’t alive and possessed by a tiny bit of joy, I might not have noticed the young woman sitting alone on a stone stairway, not dressed for the weather — and not headed anywhere, it seemed. She turned her eyes away as I passed. I almost kept walking, but my gratitude and coffee had combined to form joy, and that joy became warmth, and it gave me the courage to stop and engage with her. Like a 20th century Christian. Like that 20th century kid, raised to share, in American schools. The kid that I still am, thank God.
I went back to her. I asked if she needed some money. She was embarrassed. She said, “Well, yes, but only if you can spare it. Only if you’re going to be OK.” My heart just about broke. I gave her what I could. And she smiled.
Joy is essential. It gets you out of bed. It makes you grateful. It makes you reach into your pocket to help others. It makes you a Christian. It makes you a real American. I wish it for you, Courtney, and me, and all of us — it’s the only way forward.
