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"Those who said the impossible couldn't be done got nudged out of the way by those who were doing the work. But it was harder this time not to give up, harder even than with Nixon. Harder even than with Reagan: hardcore hard, like eight years of a grinding brain fever, of soul flu.

I mean that nicely."

Anne Lamott writes about one of the reasons I'm feeling especially thankful this year.

I have a lot of reasons to be cranky these days. I don't think anyone who knows my family's situation would argue that. But this last month has felt more hopeful and anticipatory and downright fraught with possibility, and one of my favorite writers has thoughtfully put the reason into words for me.

One of my best post-election moments was a conversation with Clay maybe a week or so ago. There was just this incredulous tone in his voice, truly not understanding why it was a big deal for a black man to be elected to the office of president, and an inability to comprehend why anyone would want to deny any subset of our population access to the ability to marry. He knows the history, he just really can't wrap his brain around the mindset of racism or homophobia, and has no tolerance for it. I believe Julia and Cord share this character trait. If this is indicative of our next generation of leaders, we are poised for some terrific progress in the near future.

Kinda puts things into perspective for me.

(And here's a lovely piece I always seek out at this time of year, by another beloved Bay Area essayist, Jon Carroll. Read them both to counteract the waves of Black Friday greed washing over the nation today. Now, I'm off for a wee little adventure. I'll be in touch soon!)

November 2021

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