That Dusty Old Plate

Before the latest convulsion of lunacy over the weekend, I overheard two different friends in two different places on two different days saying they feel like they have to choose between following the news and keeping their sanity. For me, staying abreast of even the most dismal developments is worth putting my peace of mind in jeopardy. The weekend’s events harshly tested that conviction, putting a knot in my stomach and leaving me at a loss for words.

Instantly sharing personal reactions is expected these days, hot takes being all the rage. I’m going to resist going with that flow until I gather my wits if you don’t mind. Popping off without contemplation is one of the things fueling the lunacy as far as I’m concerned.

My journal entries are not fast food. The ideas have to marinate for a while. Then they are slow-cooked and meticulously plated before being presented for consumption. My apologies that the dish I serve today has been a week in the making and might not be what you expec…