Navigating the new normal

Every day there's a new outrage in the news surrounding the regime occupying 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Every. Damn. Day. It just doesn't let up, except maybe during the weekends when the wannabe king is off cheating at golf.

Whether it's relocating his buddy the convicted child sex-trafficker from a high-security facility to a cushy "Club Fed" prison, human rights abuses at his Florida concentration camp, his HHS secretary setting back vaccine research and development by decades, his open declaration that he needs states to further gerrymander their congressional districts because he feels "entitled"—seriously, he said "entitled"—to five additional Republican seats in the House from Texas, or opening up bullshit investigations into the perfectly legal activities of Democratic officeholders, every day there's more crime committed by the alleged President of the United States and his regime of sycophantic neo-Nazis.

It's overwhelming.

Once again, our friend Craig Calcaterra has put something into words that is more eloquent than what I feel like I could articulate at the moment:

I honestly think something has happened in the past six months that has prevented me from ever truly understanding and, possibly, caring about most of the nonsense afoot in this country. Like, I lack the energy to mock or critique on most days. I just stare into the middle distance and offer an accepting nod. The acceptance is not substantive, of course. It's just acceptance of the fact that, yes, this is how people are now and it's doubtful that anything is going to break the fever of insanity which has overtaken so, so many of them.

This is how I've been feeling, though I don't think "acceptance" is quite the right word. Close. Not sure what would be better.

But a significant percentage of people in this country—including, importantly, people in Congress, who could put a stop to all this tomorrow if they wanted to—embrace this "fever of insanity," as Craig put it, and the rest of us suffer for it while we watch the end of the Republic barrel along at ludicrous speed.

I'm certainly not one to advocate tuning out. We can't fight the authoritarian takeover if we're not aware of what's going down. But for personal mental health reasons, I have been allowing life outside of politics to kind of pretend things are normal and just try to enjoy things that, so far, have not collapsed into nightmare fuel.

I've been watching some good TV—"Upload," "Platonic," ST:SNW—reading Enterprise fanfiction, even getting in a little bicycling. And, naturally, baseball and softball.

I had an umpiring shift tonight, championship games, which tend to bring out the worst in people. But tonight was almost entirely positive, with only one player giving me grief for a strike call that he had no business being mouthy about. Otherwise it was good spirits all around and general fun, plus some ego boosts for me when, upon my arrival, several players from the adjacent field objected that Laz was umping their games and not me (hey, Laz is a good dude, cut him a break); players in games I did officiate went out of their way to compliment my style and declare me "best ump we've ever had," which I will take given the state of my head lately.

The other night I attended the Mariner game with my friend Dave, and clearly I had a good time talking with him throughout the game because my scorebook has a number of scribbles in it where I had to cross things out and correct because I had lost track of who was batting or whathaveyou. Too busy conversing with Dave to have a clean scorebook. (Good game, too, went from what looked like a blowout in the making to a close one at the end, with the M's prevailing.) Sunday I have both another M's game and an ump shift to look forward to, a rare Sunday night shift of three games at Cap Hill. Hopefully those will also be engaging, fun, and leave me in a good mood.

'Cause the news sure isn't going to help me.