This blog seems like such a puerile exercise really.
The news would have us think the country is collapsing, while most of the markers of my experience remain the same, if only slightly askew.(My Church runs a lottery to decides who goes to Mass. Kind of reminds me of the Roman legionnaires who cast lots for the robe of Our Lord, as He died in agony on the cross.) Other than that rather odd state of affairs and the Y’s reduced schedule, it’s all pretty much the same.
My street is safe and quiet. The multiracial community where I live is not roiling in tension. The stores and restaurants are open now. Today I walked around my neighbourhood just as I have done for the past ninety days. Not much different than March.
But the media depicts America as ready to explode into fragments, the way some academics talked about the “balkanization” of America a few decades ago. As if some intellectual will get a big bonus and bragging rights at the Faculty Club for predicting this goat screw.
“I told you so, didn’t I? Now I get first dibs on the soft serve!”
So there is this disconnect. Do I call the “Cash For Your House” people, take what ever they offer us, sell the rest of our stuff and high tail it out of America before there is a stampede to the border? Where is it safe? Canada? Ireland? The UK? Austria? Hungary? Russia?
Or do I stick it out? Hunker down. Buy a shotgun, and a pistol, Get freeze dried food, store water, ammunition. A suburban townhouse is a hopeless position to defend, for a 69 year old man, a 65 year old woman, no automatic weapons, or any other military resources. Check off the Steven Seagall fantasy as any sort of a viable solution.
Or do I have faith in my neighbours that this madness shall pass and we can resolve this crisis together? I say we can. This is still a country run by adults.