Satisfaction

The hit rock song, Satisfaction (“I Can’t Get No Satisfaction”), written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, was first recorded in 1965. Only illegal versions were available for years because cultural buffers considered it too sexually suggestive. It lay mostly dormant thru many of the Boomers’ years. 1965 was a time immersed in angst; Boomers were caught in a lingering Cold War,(44 years —March 12, 1947 – December 26, 1991), the Vietnam War was raging, and Culture shock was hitting from all angles.

However, in 1995 the song found a home —Generation X was another matter; Mick Jagger re-emerged, planting a permanent earworm in the ears of Generation X; bleating out “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction”—in his loud, ubiquitous voice through the myriad media means—the song took root. The turbulence of the time —as well as a less restrictive censorship—provided fertile soil, nourishing its popularity.

Satisfaction. The Media ramped up their hawking of illusive promises— “Buy This and you will be safe/happy/secure,” yet leaving “—no satisfaction”

The lyrics accurately described the milieu: “I can’t get no satisfaction
Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try
I can’t get no…” (full disclosure—this is actually the way this verse‘s lyrics end )

When I’m driving in my car
When a man come on the radio
He’s telling me more and more
About some useless information
Supposed to fire my imagination.“

Arthur Brooks, writing in The Atlantic, said “Satisfaction‘s longevity”…has a lot to do with the truth it speaks…”Satisfaction,” he went on to say, “is the greatest paradox of human life.” First there is a crave, and perhaps for a time, it seems we receive it; maybe in a vapor of a moment we experience it. And then, “Poof” it is gone! As Mick Jagger’s words die out we still hear (and likely experience its vacuity)”…’Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try I can’t get no, …’ Satisfaction~”

Maybe this is our problem—maybe our flaw—we try (and try and try) too hard. Ponder this; What would my life be like if I turned this around? Stop grasping (I don’t mean dishonestly, or greedly) to make everything right and perfect, and fixed all the time? How about this? When talking with a friend, I listen. Really listen for the subtext, drinking in the ambience of the moment; hear a subtle inner voice echoing, “I hear you! You matter to me.” Or while walking in the park (or pasture), instead of checking my timepiece or Smartphone, I open my ears and listen; maybe the natural world around is trying to speak to me.

I don’t know. I’m not a philosopher—I’m barely a theologian. But I get the point. The mad race toward satisfaction is a hot, dry, inert journey, not unlike the struggle of Sisyphus from Greek mythology—a virtually vacuous effort. I think Jesus said it as accurately as it is succinct: Come to me, all of you who are weary and over-burdened, and I will give you rest! I say this is the paragon of satisfaction! Copyright, Willis H. Moore 2022 ©

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