I Don’t Want to Write
Washington is a disaster. A catastrophe. A shamble. An embarrassment. Every day is another revelation, another scandal, another failure. The news is depressing, enraging, irritating and unpleasant. There are people at the bridge club I can barely manage to be civil to because they support and cheer about this deplorable situation.
A health care plan was introduced that would take insurance away from 20 million Americans, and the GOP voted it down because it wasn’t harsh enough.
I don’t like conspiracy theorists; most certainly don’t want to become one. Still can’t shake the sense that the entire election was stolen by Vladimir Putin.
The Supreme Court just struck down the North Carolina voter suppression laws and gerrymandering, but that doesn’t change the result of the election.
So that’s easy, just don’t write about it. Unfortunately, I also don’t want to NOT write about politics. There is nothing more important happening. It seems pointless to pen another anodyne article about the lack of crispiness of the fries at another restaurant when the nation is going to the dogs. I’ve got a great post about the Tel Aviv Central Bus terminal with photos I took months ago, just can’t bring myself to write it while all this mishegoss is forefront is everyone’s consciousness.
Writing about restaurants and ballets and bus stations seems like so much re-arranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.
Okay, so maybe I’m whiny and self indulgent. I’m certain to be less important than I think I am. Probably I should just shut up and keep writing about the few things that interest a tiny group of people in my insignificant corner of the internet. Be happy to have my few hundred readers and muddle along in my irrelevancy. Is that what a grown up would do? I wouldn’t know.
This boring funk won’t last, one hopes. Just as one hopes this insane crisis in American politics will be resolved, in some fashion, sooner rather than later. I guess we’ll all have to stay tuned.