Nobody Told the Squirrels

This week has been a week.

There are so many things going on that make me feel sad, furious, and helpless all at once.

My son seems to have figured out my patterns.

As he stood, scratching my back — I seem to have taken the place of the family dog — and the music for The West Wingstarts;

“I know you are stressed about politics when you start rewatching The West Wing.”

Just like that.

I am not used to people seeing my patterns like that. I like operating from behind the curtain.

But he catches things. Probably better than anyone in the family.

Yes… The West Wing is my comfort show. That theme music is like a bowl of ice cream for my stressed-out soul.

The West Wing, with its Sorkin optimism, led by what they referred to as an intellectual elite President — I would give anything to have that now — and a staff led by Leo, who, in his curmudgeon raspy voice, always had heart behind everything.

The problems of twenty years ago still plague us, but after watching an episode, I always felt we learned a little and elevated the conversation a bit. Reminding us that the world is complex. Issues can’t be watered down to a campaign slogan or sound byte for the news.