Delicious Ambiguity

What’s clear to me now is that, while enduring the Trump Years, I suffered no uncertainty about how I saw him. He was, and is, a self-serving crook evading all consequences of his despicable behaviors. I felt suffocated under his relentless affection for authoritarian power and White nationalism. I was never ambiguous.

I’m grateful for the Biden Harris team. I don’t miss the brutal ugliness of Trump’s assaults. But having “my side” win, which is how their November victory seemed to me, isn’t necessarily a victory for democracy. As Nate Cohn opined in a recent New York Times’ essay, the most evident threat to American democracy is the danger “of a hostile and divided citizenry.” In other words: sides….

Straightening Out My Soul

I see signs of progress. The pandemic is winding down. More people have been vaccinated. Friends are planning to visit. Families separated by the virus for the past year are reuniting. It isn’t perfect, and it surely isn’t total. Look at Michigan! But I think we’re coming back.

Some members of our communities have been heroic during the past year: those who made deliveries, grocery store clerks, nurses and orderlies, gas station night managers, cops who care and firefighters who risk their lives. These folk may understandably be worn out by what was asked of them over the past year. They need our thanks, and they need a break….

Dreading the Miracle

I never expected to grow old.

In 1991 I was diagnosed HIV-positive. That diagnosis was spelled “AIDS” which at that time was also spelled “dead.” I was in my early 40s, fighting the odds, hoping for more birthdays, wondering if I might make it as far as 50.

Then a miracle happened. Anti-retroviral drugs arrived about five years after my diagnosis and AIDS became, in the U.S., mostly a treatable disease. No cure, but stay-alive treatments if you can make them work. About fifteen years later I fought off a tough case of cancer, again stretching my life farther than I’d imagined….