I stopped by an old friend’s apartment to commiserate tonight and to wait out the hellish Portland traffic.
We drank a couple of Sticky Hands IPAs, and I relived some Facebook conversations for him, since he quit it a few weeks ago.
I’m a little envious of this and tell him so.
But he’s not unaware of what’s going on. He knows about the latest antics of our orange wannabe dictator. He’s aware that the Senate silenced a female member while allowing her male colleagues to read the same words she attempted to.
Continue reading Thoughts from a snowflake
Is this what America’s life looks like as it flashes before its eyes?
Like opening and closing my eyes to reveal the chaotic scene of The Great Fire of Rome and Nero dancing and singing as the flames spread from the Circus through the narrow streets below.
Or maybe I’m tired and it’s later still, the middle 400s, Rome has no emperor. Only enemies. Enemies it has hired or enslaved, who now destroy the city in their cold revenge.
Are we on a precipice? Eternally compared to the greatest Empire the world has ever known. Twins unable to escape eachother’s orbit or trajectories.
You can almost hear the echoes of their voices off the marbled walls through time itself.
“Let’s make Rome great again.” Continue reading The Sky is Falling
I was killing time at my best friend’s condo in PDX tonight, waiting for the protests to die down when the news of Leonard Cohen’s death broke.
My friend didn’t know who he was, so I played “Hallelujah” on Spotify for him and his kids.
Of course they only know the Jeff Buckley version, or, more realistically, the John Cale version from “Shreck,” but my point was made.
The man whose lyrics I read more than I ever listened to is dead at 82.
And Trump was in the White House today.
Continue reading Trump is president and Leonard Cohen is Dead
Like many Americans, I woke up sick to my stomach.
Did that just happen? Did we just put a tax-dodging, racist misogynist in the White House to spite the establisment?
It sunk in as my daughter came down the stairs and asked me tentatively, “Did Hillary win?”
I’m sure she already knew from the despondent look on my face.
It was soul crushing to answer her.
I gagged as I said the words.
“No, honey, Donald Trump is the president elect.”
Even now, that has an absurd quality to it I can’t process.
Continue reading A Day Removed
This is my first election night not spent in a newsroom in more than a decade.
Four or five hours into this great America tragedy, and I miss the comfort of the newsroom.
The way you felt in control of things, even though it was only an illusion. Being tied into the campaigns so tightly made you feel like you really understood them.
The hot pizza at 5 p.m. and cold at 10 p.m. And bottle of Scotch for midnight. The sense of purpose and feeling like everyone was listening, watching, reading your every word.
Election nights are intoxicating.
Continue reading See you on the other side