I was once asked by a healthcare professional if I’d ever had suicidal thoughts. At the time I thought it was a standard question (I don’t really have a lot of experience with doctor types – other than the ones I’ve encountered in my work experience, who mostly haven’t paid much attention to me, except, maybe, to tell me how important they are). But I was forced to get an exam for some reason or other (work-related, I think) and it may be that I was just doing a poor job of hiding my disgust at being in this guy’s presence (once you find out what they really think of the general public, it’s hard to pretend to believe they actually give a shit about – let alone respect – you), and he mistook my disdain for despair.

I mean, my mother once told me I looked “mean” (thanks Ma!), and my wife told me I look like a Klingon (hopefully a “Next Generation” version). I even had my ninth grade English teacher tell me one time that she didn’t like having me in her class, because she’d look at me sitting there and know I was thinking “this is bullshit.” A bit of projection on her part, I think, but I assured her that she ought not to worry because I was rarely, if ever, actually paying attention to whatever it was she was saying.

So perhaps I had a bit of a pissy look on my face. I dunno.

Anyhow, my response to the whole thinking about offing myself thing was, “yeah, I suppose everybody has thoughts like that from time to time.” So naturally the follow-up question was “do you often feel depressed?”

Well, shit. First you have to define “often” and then you’ll have to tell me what you mean by “depressed.” Sad, sure. Who isn’t, apart from narcissists and sociopaths. I’m no shrink, but I doubt any state of malaise I’ve ever experienced has risen to the level of clinical depression. I once heard a now-disgraced podcaster talk about having anxiety attacks and saying that people think they get those, but they don’t really know what that is until they actually have one. Which made me wonder, if that’s the case, how you’d ever know you actually had one. I guess it’s like porn – you know it when you see (or feel) it.

But the point is, yeah, I’ve felt shitty and unhappy and all that, but nothing out of what I assume is the ordinary (I mean, it kind of depends on your situation, no? And whether or not you ran out of beer and cigarettes and the stores are all closed – yeah, there once was a time when the stores closed and teevee stations actually “signed off” for the night).

Anyway, any suicidal thoughts I might have had were certainly never serious (I mean, here I still am, right?), and, in any case, not as a result of depression. More like laziness. As in, there were things I really didn’t want to do (write a paper, take a test, go to work, give a presentation, go to a fucking doctor appointment, etc.), and never being particularly bright or creative, the only way I could think to get out of doing them would be to wake up dead. Or maybe get in a serious (but non-fatal) automobile accident. Preferably something involving a relatively brief coma that would allow me to catch up on my sleep and not have to experience any pain (had an MVA resulting in a compression fracture of the T10 vertebrae one time and let me tell ya, that shit hurt. A lot. Still does, frankly – it’s something I highly recommend you avoid).

Oh, and no catheter, please, because the thought of the thought of those things frankly creeps me out.

Now that I’m older, the car accident fantasy has been replaced by something a little more age appropriate – like, maybe, an acute cardiac infarction. Mild stroke. Something relatively benign, yet necessitating early retirement at full pay (and a prescription for medical marijuana – and not that NYS crap, either, but the real thing). Hey, a guy can dream, no?

Which leads me to where I am today. I mean, not today, specifically, but today as in at this point in my life. For reasons I won’t get into, I’m really not digging the way life is working out right now. I mean, besides obvious things like a POTUS who is a Russian asset, a bunch of “liberals” who seem intent on eating each other because this one doesn’t like that one, and that other one was mean to the one whose turn it was last time, and some billionaire asshole who seems intent on making sure the current fake billionaire asshole stays in office.

On a side note, I see that our beloved (yet terribly harassed, which has never happened to any other president) Commander in Chief keeps referring to the Amazon and WaPost dude as Jeff Bozo. I get that’s a pretty easy “joke” to make with the “b” and the “z” and the “o” and all, but someone who wears harlequin makeup and a fright wig really shouldn’t be making clown references.

Anyhow, my angst these days is pretty much all work related. I’m feeling overwhelmed and stressed and hopelessly trapped and just plain unhappy. I haven’t really slept much in a couple of years (despite what my watch seems to think – apparently when you just lie there staring into the darkness, it considers it “light sleep”), I have a more or less perpetual headache, my jaw hurts like hell from constantly clenching my teeth, and I have to piss all the time.

That last part isn’t really related to stress – it’s just annoying.

So, here I am, too young to die (or at least too young to give up just yet), too poor to retire, can’t drink beer, pot’s not legal (yet, at least) here in NY, the few parts of me that don’t hurt are numb because I slept on them funny, it’s only the beginning of February and I’ve been sick of winter since before Xmas, the basketball team is having a shitty season, the lacrosse team opened up with a loss to fucking Colgate, for fuck’s sake, and Trump’s still president. If I wasn’t at least a little depressed, I’d need to have my head examined.

And, yeah, I’m aware that I’m being just a wee bit melodramatic here (I get that from my mother), and obviously know that I’ve been more than fortunate in my life and I really have no right to complain.

But fuck that.

Up until a week or so ago, I’d been harboring this fantasy that I could retire at any point. I mean, I’ve got enough years in to collect a pension and while I know that I’ll take a hit because of my age (never thought there’d be a drawback to being “too young” – especially since it never occurred to me that I’d ever get this old in the first place), but I thought, you know, give up my addiction to Amazon, cut back on things here and there, and I could tough it out until Social Security kicks in (assuming the Republicans don’t fuck that all up). In fact, I was pretty much convinced I was ready to pull the pin, walk in to HR, fill out the paperwork, and close out this chapter of my life. I mean, what’s the point if you’re just gonna feel like shit all the time?

But then I sat down and looked things over realistically and, well, even if I eat the dogs, sell the truck and walk wherever I go, revert to dial-up Internet (do they even have that anymore?), fill in the pool (which I would love to do – I mean, a pool where there’s nine months of winter? Whose bright idea was that?), and give up my phone (which, really, won’t do me much good without Internet anyway, seeing as nobody ever calls me and I’ve hated telephones since I got the call in the middle of the night that my dad had died), there’s still no chance of me retiring. Zero. Zip. As John Lennon once sang, the dream is over.

If I wasn’t depressed before that, I sure as hell am now.

But I’m a guy, and while I am (under certain circumstances) allowed to have feelings, I’m most definitely not allowed to express them.

So, never mind.

It’s the countdown to the Super Bowl. I think. I guess it takes place in February these days (I remember because it was on Super Bowl Sunday seven years ago that Siggy died). There was a time when the Super Bowl was a big deal to me. Not because I was a “fan” of any team playing. I enjoyed it when the Giants with Joe Morris won back in 1987 (no, I didn’t remember the year off the top of my head – had to look it up). And I’ve never given a shit about Miami, other than not liking them, but I still enjoyed seeing Larry Csonka do well. I don’t like the Eagles, but of course I wanted to see Donovan McNabb win. But mostly I’ve never had any “skin” in the game, as they say.

But there was a time when I had friends and we’d get together and eat too much and drink even more and have what I seem to recall (to the extent that I can actually recall) was a good time. Back then, while I didn’t care all that much who won (assuming it wasn’t the Cowboys), I at least knew what city the teams were from. This year, it’s, what, the Rams? And I guess they’re back in LA again? I don’t know.

And while I don’t care much for them, I definitely don’t care for the Patriots, who used to be Boston before they got pretentious and annexed the entire New England area. I consider the Patriots to be the Cowboys of the Northeast – especially with their Friends-of-Trump owner and all-around asshole of a QB.

Mostly, though, I just don’t care either way. Besides, the damn game doesn’t even start until damn near bedtime (it was tough enough to get up for work the next day when the damn thing still started in the afternoon – I was young back then). So I’ll check the score on Monday morning, find out the fucking Patriots won again (probably after being down the whole game), and be glad I didn’t watch.

And then I’ll finish my coffee and oatmeal and head off to the job that I love so much.

Speaking of which….

We don’t get a chance to celebrate much on this side of things so, even though I’ll be waiting for the other shoe to drop in three weeks or so, there’s no harm in taking a little joy in yesterday’s developments. Not so much in the Roger Stone thing, because I don’t think we’ll see any action on that front for quite a while. I mostly expect to hear a lot of meaningless blather and speculation (which I’ll of course listen to, because meaningless or not, it’s still fun). But Trump being forced to back down was not only enjoyable, but good for the country. I have to admit I was afraid that Democrats would give in, and then we’d see shutdown after shutdown for any stupid shit the fat man’s handlers (Putin, Coulter, and Limbaugh, et al.) down the road.

So it was nice to see the Democrats stand up and stay unified for once. Nancy Pelosi did a great job of being the adult in the room and herding the cats. But if you think that happened in a vacuum, and wasn’t in large part a result of progressive candidates bucking “the party,” and getting elected to office (or losing close races in what were once considered Republican strongholds), then you’re delusional.
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Pelosi didn’t have the upper hand in spite of progressives, but because of them and because they’re nudging the Democratic party back toward the left.

Progressive candidates are beginning to show the Democratic establishment and concern trolls that it’s in their best interests to stop acting like Republicans and to stop being afraid of “being mean” to people who will never support them anyway.

It’s not “crazy talk” to support things like universal healthcare, free education, green technology, and marginal tax rates. Those are the kinda of things that the vast majority of people favor, and they’ll vote for candidates that support those ideas if you’ll just give them the chance.

So good for them, and for people like AOC, Beto O’Rourke, Elizabeth Warren, and, yes, even that nasty old man Bernie Sanders who was so mean to Hillary Clinton.

I don’t know who the Democrats will nominate in 2020, but I hope whoever it is, I hope it’s somebody with the courage (and the brains) to stand up and support the things I and most other “regular” people believe in.

So, if you’ve been paying attention to the weather news, you’ll have probably heard there’s a big old nasty winter storm sweeping across the US of A. It’s supposed to hit my neck of the woods later this evening, though it’s actually snowing out there already. They seem to have us penciled in for about 14″, though it could always be more. Or less. Usually more at my house, since I’m on the western side of a gorge and the wind tends to come sweeping down the plain, as they say, and dumping everything on my house. A foot to a foot-and-a-half is what we consider to be a pain in the ass around here, rather than some sort of Snowmageddon. Especially when it happens over a weekend (really sucks when we get dumped on in the early morning on a weekday, just because you have to get out there and fuck around in the snow to get to work). About all I do it make sure I have enough diesel to plow the driveway, enough gasoline to run the generator, and enough kerosene to run the heaters if all else fails. I should probably go run the gennie for a while just to make sure it still works.

The real hassle is the cold. It was in the twenties when I got up at my usual stupid time of the morning, but it’s down to about 12° right now, and it’s expected to be below zero and not much above for a few days. And really windy. Plus the wife is working this weekend, which means I’ll have to get out on the tractor tomorrow morning to plow. Not that I won’t be up anyway, of course, but getting out there in the dark kinda sucks, and my fingers and toes really have a hard time with the cold these days. I’m good for about half an hour, but then things start to hurt. And when there’s a lot of snow, even a quick and dirty plow job can take well over an hour.

It would be different if the rest of my life was all fun and games, but, well, let’s just say, it aint.

I’m also getting really tired of reading “Trump is toast now” or whatever. Or how Mueller has this awesome plan and Trump is playing checkers while Mueller’s playing three-dimensional chess and is 10 moves ahead and all that. Yeah, but Trump is still there, isn’t he? And Yurtle McConnell has has back and that, pretty much, is that.

Until I see them back the paddy wagon up to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and frog march that whole band of thieves out the door, I don’t wanna hear what Buzzfeed or Atrios, or anybody else has to say. How about we just focus on getting these Republicans (and the Republicans masquerading as Democrats) out of control? Not that I’m going to personally do much of anything, of course. I’ll vote – and I may even re-register as a Democrat to vote in the Primary, though that’s always already decided before NY gets to vote – and I’ll maybe even donate money, but that’s pretty much it.

And how’s about we just try to decide which candidate actually stands for and will try to accomplish the things that are important to us, and not play the “who’s electable” game, or the “I don’t like this one because they were mean to that one” or any of that other nonsense?

Frankly, whoever legalizes pot and lowers the retirement age to 55 (or even 58) gets my vote.

We’ve had a string of shitty years that I’ve been happy to say goodbye to lately, and 2018 is certainly no exception. It may have been the worst of the bunch. Hard to say, really. If consider 2016 to be the year we went off the edge of the cliff, then 2018 is hopefully the year we finally hit bottom and hopefully 2019 will be the year we start climbing back up again. But I don’t know. With every new revelation I keep hearing how “Trump is done now!” But there he sits around the White House (and when he sits around the White House…), tweeting stupid shit and outright lies, appointing judges, and just plain fucking up everything. The “Sadim” Touch, as they say – everything he touches turns to shit.

Not that he could do it all by himself, of course. He’s had the House, the Senate, and the entire Republican Party enabling him. Not to mention some 35-40% of We The People for whom he can do no wrong. And I still find it difficult to understand (let alone forgive) anybody who thought that Clinton was so terrible that they’d show everybody and help Trump get elected. They sure showed us! I think the effect that the likes of people such as Susan Sarandon had on throwing the election to Trump are a bit overstated, but still.

I just hope whoever the Democrats nominate in 2020 doesn’t get the same treatment (from either direction).

But hopefully we can put off the next campaign for a while and settle in for some prime investigatin’ for a year or two. Much as I’d like to see Fat Bastard out on his ass (on his way to prison, along with the rest of his family), I really don’t want a President Pence to hold office for very long (if at all). The best that could happen (IMHO) would be if Barbie (and her hubbie), Uday, and Qusay Trump all go to prison after their attorneys bleed them dry while Daddy is hamstrung by investigations making it impossible for him to do any more damage to the world while the House investigations make it clear to even Senate Republicans that the fucker has to go.

I have my doubts but, hey, if you can’t dream on New Year’s Eve, then when can you?

Since I was up before three this morning (which is more or less normal now that I keep old man hours), I really doubt I’ll be seeing midnight. Plus sitting around not drinking isn’t much of a thrill. And I’m so out of practice, a few beers would put me down pretty darn quick. But whatever it is you do tonight, have fun, stay safe, and watch out for the assholes out there who ruin things for everybody.

See ya next year.

Hello, and Happy Christmas to everybody out there. This will be the first one without my father-in-law, who made it to his 97th birthday back on December 7th (yep, D-Day) but only made it a couple days past that. He’d always said he wanted to make it to 100, but I don’t think another three years at the nursing home (where he was apparently a big hit with the staff – he always did have a good sense of humor) in the state he was in would have been happy for him (or for anybody else, really). His ashes went with my stepdaughter back to Alaska (here’s a travel tip – if you’re planning on transporting cremains, the TSA rather frowns on you doing so in a metal, bomb-shaped urn) where they were scattered off the coast and into the Pacific Ocean.

Funny how these things work. One day somebody’s here, and then, poof, they’re gone as if somebody threw a switch. Except of course they aren’t really gone. They’re presence lingers – all their stuff and their papers. Even their smells. Everything lingers and the people that are left have to figure out what to do with it all. My parents have been gone for what seems like forever at this point, and I still have their stuff. Bank records death certificates, my mother’s tchotchkes, my dad’s wallet and letters home to his mother from the war. You know, the shit that’s in all those boxes that you resolve to deal with but the best you can do is take them out one by one, look them over, and then put them back in the box for another day. My one regret (OK, well, I’ve got more than one) is that, being a dead branch on the old family tree, I don’t have anybody to pass this stuff along to.

Ah, that’s the Christmas spirit.

Anyhow, I guess I’d better get going, because there’s a dog at my feet who refuses to let me stop petting her, and it’s making it difficult to type.

So Merry Christmas and best wishes to you and yours.

So the weather report went from some rain expected to, oh, maybe we’ll get a little snow to, oh, gee, how’s another 10 inches sound? Good? Good. So I got to plow the driveway again last night and this morning (my favorite way to start the day). Then it was an invigorating half hour or so standing around waiting for the bus as the snow blew into my face (you’d think the wind would pick a direction and stick with it, but, no you’d be wrong – it seems to insist on blasting me in the kisser no matter what direction I happen to be standing). 

I could have walked across the street to the diner to warm up with a cuppa (it is senior day, after all). Could have, if the f*cking bus app was worth a shit. Oh, when the weather’s pleasant, it works great, showing me the location of my chariot and the expected arrival time. When the weather turns to shit, though, not so much. It basically just looks at me with it’s big innocent blank screen and more or less shrugs its little digital shoulders at me. So, there I stood, snow accumulating rapidly on my shoulders (and head).

And then when the bus came, it wasn’t the usual relatively comfy “coach” that I’ve become accustomed to, but a crappy “city” bus with plastic seats that are somehow harder than concrete. Oh boy.

Now, at the risk of furnishing too much information, my normal morning routine consists of (among other things) a pot of coffee and a liter or so of water (give or take). Not counting the half-liter of water in my bowl of oatmeal. This, combined with a 35 or so minute bus ride means my bladder is just about ready to pop as I walk the quarter mile or so to work and up the five flights of stairs. When you preface that trip with an unexpected 30 minute wait out in the cold, well, let’s just say it made for a rather uncomfortable ride.

I might have to invest on some of those catheters I see on the teevee.

But here I am at work with – as far as I can tell – no internal organ damage. The snow doesn’t seem to be letting up, and I don’t expect the bus this evening to be anywhere near on time. So it’s more standing around in a white-out on the off chance that the bus will be on time (the bus waits for no man, but all men – and women – must wait for the bus), before I get back to where my truck is parked so I can dig it out from a foot or so of snow in order to drive home and plow the goddamn driveway again. If I’m lucky, I might be able to have some dinner befor I go to bed so I can start it all over tomorrow morning.

I’d move if I could figure out a place where it’s warm all year but there aren’t hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes, wildfires, or Trumpies. Plus pot has to be legal. No point moving anywhere without that.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Just when I thought all the deals were over, it turns out today is Cyber Monday! The savings just won’t stop. Plus, the US Military (or ICE or whatever the fuck they are) is being used to launch tear gas into a neighboring country in order to maim, torture, and terrify poor people and little children (imagine, if you will, Canada lobbing tear gas from their side of the Peace Bridge over into Buffalo. Pretty sure that wouldn’t go over too well, even if it IS only Buffalo).

Note to our friends in the UK: this is a look at what life after Brexit could be like, though I’m not sure whether you folks will be on the tear gas chucking or receiving side (but I suppose most of you still remember what life was like during “the troubles” so you know better than I). Just a quick tip for those on the receiving end – if every movie I’ve seen is correct, you can just tie a rag over your face and chuck those tear gas canisters back where they came from. Though you might wanna import some Mexicans or Central/South Americans, because they’ve got great pitching arms, and we know you Europeans (if I can still lump you in with that lot) mostly use your feet. Except for Cricket, I guess. But those tear gas canisters are a bit more than a sticky wicket.

It appears that after a few days of respite, we’re about to get hit with whatever it is that nailed Chicago (where 13″ of snow is apparently enough to shut things down and knock out power to 99% of customers in the area – here, we call that “Tuesday”).

Not sure what the weather gods have in store for us (so far, it doesn’t sound like all that much, but that can change pretty quickly), so mostly I hope it’s not too cold and I don’t have to get out there and plow in the dark. Of course, it’s kinda dark before work and after work, so I guess I’ll be plowing in the dark no matter what.

I’m gettin’ cold just thinking about it.

Or Happy Day Kennedy Was Shot. Depends on what you’re into, I guess. Though I suppose nothing says you can’t celebrate both. This year it might be a bit of a challenge to find things to be grateful for, what with the wildfires and the climate change and whatnot. Normally you can just go with the everyday things that you take for granted, like not having a President who’s a narcissistic sociopathic moron but, well….

Things around here have been less than ideal, unfortunately. Oh, sure, the weather sucks (it’s 12 degrees out there right now, and from the sound of things, that’s gonna be the highlight of the next few days), but that’s to be expected. And even though we’ve had over a foot of wet, heavy snow, I at least got to make sure I the chains didn’t fall off the tractor tires, and that I had the 4WD working again. Plus it wasn’t subzero and I happened to be off when we got the worst of it, so I didn’t have to get out there at 5 AM and freeze my ass (actually, more like my fingers and toes – my ass stays pretty warm) off just so I could have the pleasure of going to work.

Then I came home the other night after work and the house was cold. Which it’s not supposed to be. It wasn’t subzero outside, but it was cold and not having heat was a bit disconcerting. I’ll spare you the long version of the story, but fortunately I was able to snap into former-HVAC guy mode and get things warmed up again. Though it’ll be a while before I stop worrying about it (and then things will probably turn to shit again).

And then there was what has to have been the worst few days sports-wise in recent memory. Not only did the SU football play like shit and look pathetic on national teevee against a team that I personally despise (and refuse to name here, but as a clue they have a racist, insulting mascot that perpetuates an insulting stereotype against my people), but the basketball team (for which we have high hopes this season, and which is pretty much the only thing that makes winter bearable around here – at least once you stop being a kid and start being a miserable old man) lost two games in a row and looked lousy while doing it.

But the worst part was my almost 97 year old father in law falling down the basement stairs in the middle of the night a few days ago. Broken face, broken wrist, broken fingers. Might have been some broken fingers in there, too – I forget. So that meant a couple of days in the hospital and now he’s in a nursing home, ostensibly for rehab but, well, he’s apparently not coming back, which he doesn’t know yet. He hates it there, and I’m not really sure he understands exactly what the deal is. Oh, and I imagine he’s pretty sore, to add injury to insult.

So this is all very sad. Heartbreaking, really. I can’t help but feel things from his perspective. Alone and in pain, confused and not really understanding what the deal is. Feeling betrayed and abandoned and just wanting to go home.

Personally, I hate not being home. My goal from the moment I leave the house is to get back home again, and it’s really difficult to get me back out of the house again once I get home. So I feel pretty horrible for the guy, and for my wife. And for me because, frankly, I see my future in all of this, and I don’t like what I see.

Being the youngest (by a long shot) in my family and having no kids of my own, the options seem to be to die relatively young the way my parents did, or live to the point where I can’t take care of myself and wind up rotting old and alone in some nursing home surrounded by a bunch of demented old farts hollering at imaginary people and crapping in my diapers while condescending young people wipe my ass and hose me off occasionally while I wait to die.

So I guess today I’ll be thankful that it hasn’t come to that point for me yet. And that at least the Democrats will be in control of the House next year (and no matter who gets elected Speaker – I’m sure it’ll be Nancy Pelosi, which is apparently important to a lot of people out there – never fear; I’m sure the Democrats will continue to be the feckless losers running away from progressive policies that we’ve all come to know and love, at least until the young blood gets a chance to move up the ranks), for what that’s worth. And, hey, maybe they’ll surprise me.

And along with being grateful, I guess I’ll be hopeful. Hopeful that they’ll finally decide to make recreational pot legal here in NYS. It will never replace the hole in my soul where beer used to be, but I really don’t think I can go through whatever’s left of my life totally sober.

I mean, forget the rest of my life – I’m not even all that crazy about going through the holidays sober. Having time off is nice (except for being on call, which sucks), but I’m not really a big fan of the holidays. Mostly because I don’t think O should have to convince anybody that, no, I do not want to eat more. I’m not on a diet, I just know what it is I can get away with eating in order to not get gout flareups or otherwise feel like shit. And I really don’t want to eat dead animals. Even if they died of natural causes. I’m not at the point where I wanna be a pain in everybody’s ass over it, it’s just not something I care to do. So just let me eat my spinach salad with beans and my steamed veggies and leave me alone. I’m getting to be a little too old to feel required to justify my eating and/or drinking habits. It’s not like I give a shit what anybody else does.

And, no, I won’t be attending the office holiday party. Thanks, but no thanks. I realize this makes me a horrible person and ineligible for promotion but, hey, I can live with that.

The EU has a “right to be forgotten,” can’t I just have the right to be left alone?

Anyhow, whatever it is you’re thankful (or hopeful) for, I hope you have a safe and happy day today. And I have no idea who they’re playing, but let’s hope the Cowboys lose, too.

So, that was a bit underwhelming. Oh, it’s good that the Democrats took the House, don’t get me wrong. Between the gerrymandering and the voter suppression, that’s no small feat. But I think I read that the average pickup under these circumstances is something like 28 seats, and last I saw they’d picked up 26. And of course they actually lost a few seats in the Senate, which in some respects doesn’t make much of a difference, but it still allows Trump to continue packing the courts and makes it even less likely to get a conviction in the Senate (which, really, wasn’t gonna happen anyway). Here in my neck of the woods, the scumbag Republican Congresscritter who hates meeting with constituents (though I must admit he does a pretty good job of pretending to be non-partisan while always doing the GOP’s bidding) won once again. And my NYS Assemblyman – who didn’t even bother sending out a mailing to my house, and who has never done much of anything that I’m aware of – won again. Democrats won the NYS Senate, though they’ve done that before only to have a group of DINOs caucus with the Republicans anyway. And of course Governor Andy won again, which I suppose is better than having the Republican win but it’s not exactly anything to jump for joy over.

But at least the Democrats will be able to launch real investigations into Trump and his gang of thieves. Whether they actually will or not remains to be seen, of course, but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt for now. And the Affordable Care Act should be safe (not that it’s exactly a great piece of legislation, but it’s a start), as should Social Security and Medicare (though that remains to be seen, too – Democrats have a tendency to negotiate by starting at their opponent’s position and then working their way to the right from there).

So while I’m slightly less than ecstatic about Tuesday’s results, I at least am not feeling suicidal. I’ll save that for 2020.