Friday, January 13, 2017

How I Really Feel

It's been over a year since I've blogged. It's been years since I've been faithful at blogging or journaling either one. I do, however, still have a desire. It just gets lost in the nothingness sometimes. I very often have a thought or an opinion I want to share, yet I very often decide to let it pass without sharing it. This week, though, a little interaction on social media has crept back into my mind a few times. So I want to address it. It concerns "how I really feel."

I wrote a post on Facebook the other day that said:
How do you set your tv to automatically mute every time someone starts to quote a certain type of tweet? Or even better switch to your favorite Pandora station when the political talk starts and then go back to regular programming when the coast is clear?
One of my friends, God bless him, replied:
Sweetie, I think you'll be listening predominantly to Pandora for the next few years if this is how you really feel. P.S. You're not alone; I'll be doing the same thing! 
What really got me was the phrase, "...if this is how you really feel." Which made me question if that was, indeed, how I really felt. I really do cringe every single time someone quotes a tweet from Donald Trump. I actually cringe just writing his name. I cringe when I see him, or hear him, or see or hear his spokespeople. I cringe when someone refers to him or reports what crazy thing he said or did today. I cringe when people talk nicely about him, or when they talk about him at all.

How I really feel is: I wish I could watch the news like a normal, concerned, involved citizen, without having to hear or see one single thing that involves that man. And since he is the new center of the political world, that means I can't watch or hear one single thing about politics that won't eventually involve him.

So, no, I really don't want Pandora to automatically switch on as soon as political talk starts. I just wish political talk didn't have to involve the-one-who-shall-not-be-named. It gives me an icky, ashamed-to-be-an-American feeling. Not ashamed so much as embarrassed. I'm embarrassed on behalf of us. Many of us can honestly show you are palms and say, "It wasn't me!" But we're guilty by association. So, there. That's how I really feel.

No comments:

Post a Comment