By John Brewer on April 12, 2011
A funny thing happened on the way to serenity the other night: I dropped by for a quick look at my Facebook page to see what was up, to see if anything was new, to discover that some of my friends–propelled by the offal-slinging rotors of ever-mounting and oscillating media coverage about a looming campaign season–were engaged in wall-to-wall combat. At first, I was pulled in as a spectator and nothing else; that is to say, there are moments when I truly believe I’ve had my fill of contentious political slingery, moments when I’d rather just sink back into my settee, pull the plugs (earplugs, that is!), and let the steam whistle from my drums…moments when I’d much rather think of something else, something else like the health and happiness of my parents and siblings, something else like the wonderfulness of my daughter, something else like the well-being of a dear friend up North, something else like the probability of my beloved Cubbies ever managing to win a World Series before my time on this Earth is through.
