I talk with my dad every Sunday evening. Usually we talk about computers, birding, family members, our respective churches, photography, books we’re reading, courses we’re taking — things like that. Tonight we somehow got to talking about politics. It’s not good for us to talk about politics, for while we basically hold similar political views, part of our shared political outlook is that we don’t like the political direction of the United States. Finally dad said, “I’m getting all worked up. Let’s talk about something else.” But by this time it was after ten, and time for me to get ready for bed so I can go to work tomorrow. “I’m not going to sleep well tonight,” said dad. “Neither am I,” I said. “I’m going to make a hot cup of Ovaltine to calm down,” said dad. I’m going to go down and make some nice chamomile tea.
I hate talking about politics. I don’t understand it, I know I’m being manipulated, and it all makes me feel powerless and hopeless. So there’s going to be a politics ban in effect on this blog for the next few weeks, or maybe longer.
…it’s Theater for homely people Dan.
I hate talking about CATS! I don’t understand them, know I’m being manipulated by their furry brains, and I feel powerless and hopeless ESPECIALLY when they steal my BALL!
I have imposed my own ban on too much news. I’ve gone back to reading books in the morning instead of the newspapers first thing. Right now, its Sigrid Unsted’s Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy. Still take a taste of the news…but don’t use my whole reading and listening time…
Bill @ 1 — Oh, the cynicism!!!
deb benn @ 3 — Thanks for the reading recommendation — I’ll have to look for Sigrid Unsted. I’ve been reading a lot more, too — I have just started reading Trollope’s Can You Forgive Her?.
hey owen, you should try being a pigeon. cats are much worse when you’re a pigeon. they’ve got humans fooled because they’re all cute and fuzzy looking, but in reality they are getting ready to stalk me and eat me. they turn their beady little eyes on me, and sort of hypnotize me, and i just stand there like a dummy while they creep closer and closer, but fortunately just then my buddies all flew up in the air, so i did too without thinking about it, which saved my life. cats — fooey.