So, about that lack of updates in this space for something like nine days…this month has been rough, folks.
First, there was the final run-up to the election, which was nerve-wracking in itself. Then Election Night was its own category of annoying, as a hoped-for Democratic landslide resulting in the defeat of some of the more odious Republican voices in Congress failed to materialize. And then the results of the Presidential race just dragged on and on and on. Granted, we all knew that was going to be the case, given the giant emphasis on mailed-in ballots, but it would have been a lot less of a nailbiter if I wasn’t also disgusted that the likes of Lindsay Graham, Joni Ernst, and Susan Collins weren’t all going back for another six years of being singularly terrible people in the Senate.
Of course, the Presidential result looked more and more favorable as the week went on until finally all the news organizations concluded that yes, Joe Biden had won, and that yes, America had rejected another four years of Donald Trump. Good news, absolutely! That Trump won’t be the one setting the nation’s agenda is an unabashed good thing. But it definitely gives me pause to note that America seems to have said with this election not “We’re rejecting that guy and his agenda,” but rather “OK, we don’t like this guy, but we do like a lot of what he stands for.” Disappointing.
Through all this, The Wife had been suffering some increasingly obnoxious health issues, which finally led to her hospitalization this past Monday when her vitals got seriously out-of-whack. She’s home now, having only stayed two days, and doctors are homing in on treatment options moving forward, and none of it is life-threatening…but still, that was very difficult. And now, as I write this, COVID numbers are relentlessly climbing as millions of my fellow citizens seem to have basically thrown in the towel and embraced life whether they get sick or not, and my government has likewise thrown in the towel in favor of election-related court cases that are not likely to do anything other than get tossed out.
I’m ready for 2020 to be over, folks. This entire year has been ghastly, even as the current crisis seems tailor-made to someone with my particular lifestyle: we’re not particularly outgoing, and when we do go someplace it’s always by ourselves. But still, this level of world-induced anxiety is not something I’m remotely used to. I was reminded just the other day, on the anniversary of the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald, that the final transmission from the doomed ship was the Captain saying, “We’re holding our own.”