By Butch Freedman
I’m having a hard time focusing these days, feeling too distracted by the awful events continually fired at our collective consciousness every day. It feels like a nightmare I can’t quite wake up from. Now I truly understand what an existential crisis is. But I don’t want to write about it anymore. At least not for now, not for today. I think today I have to take a mental health break. Fortunately I’m still in a position where I can afford to do that without worrying I’ll be shot or have to watch my neighbor get hauled away by jack-booted thugs. But there I go again slipping back into that nightmarish mind-set. Hard to get away from; it’s where almost every conversation with friends and family begins and ends.
So how do I escape? It starts by avoiding reading the New York Times first thing in the morning. Don’t get me wrong, I love the work that the Times does, how bravely they stand up to the regime and speak truth to power. But not today, Butch, not today. I’m also going to avoid MsNow and CNN. Same issues. I don’t need more horror today. I’ll come back tomorrow or the next day. Promise. This isn’t about giving up or in.
This morning we had a lovely breakfast with my daughter and her wife, who were visiting. And we successfully, for the most part, stayed away from speaking of the “horrors.” Instead we talked about family stuff and about “The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City” which sounds hilarious and scary in an amusing way. God, we so need more laughter these days.
Later today Bev and I will go for a long walk on the beach, then it’s off to a meeting of our Cape Meares book group. We’re discussing Percival Everett’s novel, Jim today, should be an interesting discussion. I’m the only guy in our group; me and 14 women. Love it.
It’s my turn to make dinner tonight—thinking kung pao shrimp and tofu. We often watch the daily news while eating dinner, maybe that’s not such a good idea. (I don’t know, kinda hard to give up on routines.) Later in the evening we’ll watch “Jeopardy.” Us old-heads have to keep our minds sharp. But more often than not, the clue gets answered (or vice versa) before I can drag it out of the memory bank. I’m scared of losing mental sharpness, but that’s a story for another day. Right now, sitting here at my desk, I want to think only of the pieces and places and people that bring joy and peace into my life: family, friends, community, nature, surfing, good food, and, oh yes, I’ve gotta say it—resilience and resistance and the movement to save our goddamn country. Over and out. The surf is calling my name.