Not Guilty

By -

I tend to think in analogs and metaphors, as I’ve mentioned before. This morning, I was hit with one that clarified my feelings of anxiety lately: I feel like I am seated in court, awaiting the jury to return a verdict for a crime that I never committed. I am anxious. I am uneasy. But I didn’t do anything.

I mean, this is just a plain goofy situation. Let’s bullet-point my properties:

  • White;
  • Male;
  • Protestant;
  • Middle-Aged;
  • Has money;
  • Married to his childhood love;
  • Devoted family man;
  • Religious upbringing;
  • Grew up in the deep south;
  • Loves mah dawgs

I mean, Mr. G.O.P. all the way, right? And it was true for most of my life. But I’m a man without a party now (since, let’s face it, the Libertarians are well meaning but ain’t getting any posts except a few local school boards).

Look, let’s just be decent to one another this week, OK? Emotions are going to run hot. Let your better angels win the day. Please. For all of our sakes.