I was thinking about something today while waiting to tee off on the ninth hole of a fairly crowded Thursday golf course. Pace of play was slow. The hot, muggy weather was kinda sorta miserable. But the group I was with soldiered on. I bogeyed the 9th, after a decent drive and lousy 5 iron to the green which came up short. Chip, and two putt.
Why am I boring you with this? Quite simply, because my xwitter timeline is a reflection of my full life. I'm not stuck in a political single gear, though I'm very passionate about my politics. I #golf. I shoot #pool. I am a die hard fan of #Philadelphia sports teams (see my earlier xweet from today). A volunteer for #Veterans organizations and advocate for @VeteransHealth. I've delivered meals on wheels. I could go on. You get the point.
When we silo ourselves in our personal lives, and let one thing dominate all others, we don't do anything well. We get personal myopia. We let others - especially trolls, bots, and opponents on social media - define us. I've seen it happen time and time again.
I realize and inherently understand that the life I live could come to a screeching halt in a minute if the orange shitgibbon & his minions were somehow to retake the levers of power in November. But I can not obsess about it. That's one reason why my xwitter timeline can go dark for a day, two, or three at a stretch. Because I'm living life. And there are only so many days.
While I understand, at least at some level, the pursuit of the next outrage by political social media influencers (both sides of the aisle), as an elder in the tribe, more and more it makes no sense to me. A lot of things don't. I don't understand why billionaires need another mega yacht, financed by trailer park marks who don't have two nickels to rub together, enabled by elected political climbers.
Yesterday, I was dumbfounded by #nimratarandhawa's embrace of #TFG. Social media went insane. On reflection, I suppose it made sense.
No matter how far afield many of us may wander, politically and in real life, in the end, we all come home.
