Today is the fourth day of January, and already the year feels old. The weight of Trump's idiocy presses down on everything, including me, and I begin to envy Ray's wavering consciousness; here, there, everywhere but in reality.
But 2018 is a gap year, a year when we recoup our losses, remember our dreams, and set out on the road again. At least that is what I read, and I am willing to believe. Surely it is a year for more resistance, for communicating clearly and calmly, and for righting wrongs.
There is a good deal of talk about the 2018 elections and the changes we might see. But until we eliminate the partisanship, and the willingness to close one's ears to any argument but one's own (and I too plead guilty), no single election will produce the long-term changes we need. But it could be a start.
If this is a year for living our dreams, here is mine. All violence ceases, to be replaced by patience and empathy. Men and women know true equality. High schools again teach civics. Social Security recipients get a real raise. And somebody finds a cure for Alzheimer's.
Happy 2018. Let's make this a better year.
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