Be right back

It’s a rainy Sunday morning, 20 degrees cooler than yesterday. I’m going to Mass in a few minutes, and I should get up and get dressed. And I will. But right now I’m writing, with TV news in the background. I think I wrote something yesterday about the Strait of Hormuz being open again, but I was behind the times because it’s closed again. Apparently, the Strait of Hormuz is like one of those twee little boutiques on 96th Street in Stone Harbor. It’s open when it’s open. If you plan a little shopping trip to the Strait of Hormuz, maybe you’ll be lucky and the doors will be open. Or maybe you’ll show up to find the “Sorry you missed us, be back soon!” sign, even though it’s 3:30 PM on a Tuesday. The Strait of Hormuz doesn’t care. It knows that you need it more than it needs you. It’ll be back at 3:30 - 4 at the latest. Just relax. 

*****

Someone on social media called our distinguished FBI Director “J. Edgar Boozer,” and now I’m questioning every joke I’ve ever made because I will never top this. 

I haven’t read the Atlantic story and probably won’t because I can’t afford any more subscriptions. But they don’t strike me as a careless publication, so I’m sure their story about Kash Patel was very well-sourced and meticulously reported. And we all saw how he behaves around alcohol on camera for the whole world to see, so we can just imagine his behavior when he’s out of the public eye. But we won’t have to imagine because the Atlantic is not going to settle that lawsuit, so everything will come out in discovery. Something tells me that Kash is going to drop the matter rather than sit for a deposition. He’s a fool, but he’s not stupid. 

Well, he is kind of stupid, but he’s not stupid enough not to know that discovery for his $250 million lawsuit will open cans of worms that he very badly wants to keep closed. 

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In other current events, my spring anxiety and depression are back with a vengeance. I’m coping by eating chocolate and spending money. I’m great. Everything is great. Everything is fine. 

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I have two finished posts - one about wristwatches and another about a book - that I could just publish today. But there’s a lot going on - too much to keep up with, really - and I feel like I need to write about what it’s like to be alive as an American in the middle of the year 2026. But I’ll publish the other ones soon. Analog wristwatches and early 20th century English literature are not exactly the most current topics right now, but maybe sometimes it's better to look backward. 

Testing

Today at work, we had a test of the “Giant Voice” base-wide alert system. My office is in an odd little out-of-the-way spot, on the third floor with an open walkway outside. We call it the Crow’s Nest. It used to be that we couldn’t hear the Giant Voice up there in the Crow’s Nest. We could hear the alarm, but not the actual announcement, unless we went out onto the walkway and strained our ears. Well let me tell you that the Giant Voice works just fine now.. I’ll hear that Giant Voice in my sleep. Holy cannoli

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Oh and speaking of holy. The President, such as he is, is doing the most to force people to choose: Christianity or MAGA. Jesus or Trump. It’s getting interesting. Meanwhile, he appears to have confused Pope Leo with the Mayor of New York, because Popes don’t have much influence on law enforcement and crime policy. The Pope might be “weak on crime,” but he’s probably not weak on blasphemy. Side note: I work in a medical school, surrounded by doctors, and not one of them has ever appeared at work in a long white robe with a scarlet stole. 

*****

There’s always a bright side though, and that is that the memes coming out of the Dr. Donald Jesus debacle are top-tier. Hilarious people all over the internet are finding ever more creative ways to roast the “I thought it was me as a doctor” claim and each roast is better than the last. 

And the Pope Leo crashout continues. Yesterday, the brilliant JD Vance extended his winning streak by telling a nearly-empty arena that the Pope needs to watch his step when he’s commenting on theology. Nice work, Thomas Aquinas. Good way to sell your new Catholic conversion memoir. You’re a genius. 

My favorite thing is how news media thinks they're covering a Leo-Trump "feud." Pope Leo is not feuding with anyone, especially not the likes of Donald J. Trump. His Holiness is out here saying stuff like “war is bad, love one another, pray for peace” like pretty much every Pope since the last Pope Leo. Trump then comes back with a clever rejoinder something like “Shut up, bro, you suck and you wouldn’t last a second in the UFC octagon.” This morning, as a little social media joke, I posted an offer of $50 to the first reporter to ask Karoline Leavitt if the President is suffering from PDS (Pope Derangement Syndrome). By the end of the day, eight commenters had offered to match the $50. And that offer remains valid. We will pay up. 

***** 

It’s Thursday morning now and I'm sitting in the doctor's office waiting for the scheduler to come in. I have been putting off my colonoscopy appointment. Considering my very long history of medical avoidance, it’s hilarious that I work at a medical school. Do as I say, not as I do. 

Anyway, I’m going through with it now. I actually had a colonoscopy in 2019 so I know it's not a big deal. The day before is dreadful but the procedure itself occurs during a deep sleep brought on by really good drugs. And then you wake up and go home and eat your first solid food in 24 hours. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Everything is fine. 

*****

Actually, things might be temporarily fine. Israel and Lebanon reached a cease fire agreement and the Strait of Hormuz is open again. We went to war to accomplish the same conditions that existed before this war started, at the cost of many lives and many millions of dollars, but if this cease fire gives innocent people a reprieve, then it's all to the good. 

*****

It's Friday now. I feel like it wasn't a particularly productive week, but I accomplished quite a bit. I'm just always distracted. I've always been scatterbrained and easily distracted but I'm hanging on by a thread now. 2026, man, you know? Thank God for Pomodoro timers and lists and sublists and Google reminders. Maybe I need my own Giant Voice just to keep me in line. Good luck, Giant Voice. If a Giant Voice can prevent me from going off on tangents every five gosh darn minutes then it would be money well spent. 

*****

Signs of the times

On Friday night, I watched Artemis 2 re-enter the Earth’s atmosphere and splash down safely in the Pacific Ocean. I was holding my breath a little, just like everyone else who watched Challenger explode. But despite that tiny “no joy” moment of fear, the splashdown was perfect and all four Artemis astronauts emerged happy and well. That was a good Friday night. 

Then on Saturday, Chicago’s own Pope Leo threw down the gauntlet at Trump and Vance and Netanyahu and Putin, galvanizing at least two generations of lapsed Catholics. Meanwhile, all of Budapest was out in the streets celebrating Orban’s likely downfall in advance. 

In other news, JD Vance failed to end the war in Iran, so we’re not out of the woods by any means. I meant, Trump is still President. But between JD’s campaign trip for Orban (which I still have not wrapped my head around because what the FUCK) and his unsuccessful Iran war negotiations, that’s two big JD losses in quick succession, and that’s good news all on its own. 

All of this is to say that something is shifting. Things are changing. It’s Sunday morning now, and I’m going to Mass for the second consecutive week. 

Risen

Dawn Staley, college basketball coach: “He is risen.” 

Donald J. Trump, President of the United States: “Open up the fuckin’ Strait, you crazy bastards, or get ready to live in Hell.”

Happy Easter, amirite? 

*****

We are just home from Easter Mass. I’m trying to get back in the habit of attending Mass every week, rather than whenever I feel like it because I seldom feel like it. I’m still mad at the American Church because I hold it largely responsible for the cancer that is MAGA, but I don’t want to disappoint Pope Leo. I know he keeps track. 

Easter has never been my favorite holiday, coinciding as it does with crippling Spring anxiety. But there’s the silver lining - Spring isn’t bothering me a bit this year. The Year of Our Lord 2026 has been one long panic attack, and Spring can’t hurt me. Do your worst, Spring. 

No, don’t. That was just a joke. As you were, Spring. Carry on. 

*****

On Friday night, my fellow Philadelphia public school graduates and I were ready to ride at dawn for Coach Dawn Staley. As they say on the internet, we do not play about Coach Staley. 

I had hoped that South Carolina would win yesterday, but Coach Staley and her team will be back. And as always, her post-game interview was pure grace and generosity. Win or lose, Dawn Staley is what Philadelphians call “a class act.” 

I was surprisingly invested in college basketball this weekend. My son and I spent part of Sunday afternoon glued to the DIII men’s final between the University of Mary Washington and Emory University. UMW is a Marymount sports rival, including basketball and swimming (the Saints beat the Eagles this year, for the first time ever), and we were all in for them. The last few minutes of that game were heart attack-exciting, and Mary Wash came away with the heroic buzzer-beater win. I love DIII sports. 

*****

And the rest of Easter was lovely, too. Dinner was very good, and everyone ate and enjoyed themselves. As much as I hate everyday cooking, I do love hosting holidays. I love watching my people enjoy the food and festivities that I make possible. 

*****

It’s Monday morning now, a day off for me. I had a dream in which I looked up at the sky above my house, and it was suddenly filled with hundreds of military aircraft. An Air Force jet, flying very low to the ground, ascended suddenly just as I thought it would crash on my neighbor’s lawn. That’s when I woke up. 

*****

The rest of Monday proceeded without incident. A family lunch out that included both sons and my nephew was the highlight of an altogether pretty good day. I read my book, I went outside and touched grass, I went shopping, I followed Artemis II, and we ate Easter leftovers for dinner. 

And now it’s Tuesday and the weekend is really over and the President is threatening to level an entire country. He makes empty threats all the time, so maybe he’ll back down under some fake pretext. God, I hope he’ll back down, or that someone will stop him. But he’s bloodthirsty enough to do it, and no one seems able or willing to stop him from doing whatever he wants. 

*****

Well, that was a day. Thank God that we didn’t blow up a whole country, I guess. Dodged bullets aside, though, the United States (the entire world, really) is in the clutches of an absolute raving madman, an evil and unstable non-genius who is going to keep threatening mayhem until he gets bored with idle threats and decides to just kill us all and let God sort us out. JD Vance is on yet another taxpayer-funded European vacation so he will not be leading a 25th Amendment charge today; and I don’t think one single member of Trump’s Krusty Kabinet Krew would support that effort even if Vance had the courage to initiate it. We’re trapped in a semi driven by an orangutan. The orangutan didn’t drive us off a cliff yesterday, but we’re still locked in the truck, and that fucking orangutan still has the keys. If only we had other government institutions or structures - something like branches - that could oversee the White House. If only there were some sort of system of checks and balances. 

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And now we’re threatening the Pope? How does that even work? Do they plan to assassinate him and install a pretender in a new seat in Washington, where Vance and Hegseth can keep an eye on him? Or are they planning to send an armored division into the Vatican to do battle against the Swiss Guard? I would not put either option past these raving lunatics. And now I hear that not only is Pope Leo not coming for the America 250 celebration (leaving us with nothing but WWE and another half-assed Trumpy parade), he’s apparently planning to avoid the United States altogether until Trump and his henchpeople are no longer in power. The threat must be real because Pope Leo of the South Side of Chicago does not strike me as a person who is easily intimidated. Meanwhile, now that Coach Staley received a proper apology, we’ll need to ride for Pope Leo instead. Don’t come for this Pope unless you want to fight every working class Catholic in the United States. We will throw hands even if we’re holding rosaries. 

*****

Such a week it’s been. It’s Friday now and who knows what the insane clown posse has in store for us this weekend. I will not speculate. Coach Staley is (as always) right - He is risen. What’s the worst that could happen? 

Do NOT answer that. 

On the barricades

I came out for my fifth protest on Saturday; not just my fifth protest of Trump 2.0, but my fifth protest ever in my sixty years of life. I’ve always admired people who take it to the streets, but I never felt moved to do so myself until January of 2025. 

I didn’t go to the big march in Washington DC. I went instead to my local neighborhood protest. We gathered in front of a shopping center on Georgia Avenue, old people and middle-aged people and parents with young kids carrying homemade signs. A few people wore No Kings t-shirts and hats, and there were one or two costumes, but most of us looked like we were just stopping off to protest for an hour or two in between Saturday errands, which is actually exactly what I was doing. I showed up at 12:30 and I was out at 2. 

It was rather cold out there on the proverbial barricades, with high temps in the 40s and a pretty brisk wind. A lady in her 70s had brought a huge bag of red handmade Norwegian hats, and was handing them out to anyone who wanted one. I didn’t take one. I’m not a hat person. But I loved the idea and I appreciated the gesture. 

Another lady, who was unfortunately standing next to me, kept up a running commentary, interrupting herself every few seconds to yell at passing drivers to honk their horns, making helpful horn-honking gestures so that they could understand her even if they couldn’t hear her. Most of them did honk their horns (and would have, even without the encouragement). About 80 percent of the drivers who passed us honked and waved. About 15 percent studiously ignored us, staring straight ahead and not looking at us for a second, even when they were stopped at the light. 

That leaves the actively hostile five percent, jeering and waving their stupid little middle fingers as they passed. Some dumbass yelled something about Trump Derangement Syndrome, which certainly exists but it’s not what that guy thinks it is. Another guy drove by twice, yelling “Domestic terrorists! You’re all domestic terrorists! This is terrorism! This is an insurrection!” He was holding up his phone as he was driving, trying no doubt to get pictures and video to turn in to the FBI. After the second pass, the police stopped him, and he went on his way. I was glad to see him go. He seemed a little unhinged and I would not have been surprised if he’d brandished a gun at us. Psycho. 

*****

Did we make a difference? I don’t know. I think that 8 million people nationwide are thought to have been out on Saturday. Based on US population estimates of around 340 million, that puts us well over 2 percent of the population, but well short of the 3.5 percent that historians say is the tipping point for mass movements. So we’re getting there.  

It made a difference for me, at least, to be doing something other than doomscrolling and raging at the injustice of it all. It was nice to connect with other people. It was nice to see how many of those other people felt the same way I do. It was nice to go home afterward and warm up a bit before going out to a late lunch/early dinner with my husband. I know that public protests aren’t always easy and pleasant, but that one certainly was . I just hope that I’ll have the courage to continue even when it gets dangerous.