The Intoxication Proclamation (3 Strong Beers & The History Channel!)

Happy President's Day! How did you celebrate?  By going to work?!!

My favorite president may sound unoriginal until you know why he's my favorite.  Lincoln: Because he was depressed and hilarious.  Kindred spirit, bitches! 

I read a book called Lincoln's Melancholy that revealed the depths of Honest Abe's clinical depression, & I developed something of a crush on the gaunt sonofabitch.  What is most inspiring to me is how much he was able to accomplish in spite of, or perhaps in part because of, his profound sadness.  Depression is a genetic thing, I suppose.  I mean, I believe that it is a medical issue,& that there is a genetic predisposition to it.  I've got the damn thing, after all.  But there is some emotional intelligence at work there, I think.  In a lot of cases, I think depression is a valid reaction to life; it means you have been paying attention.  The biggest problem is getting snagged there-- marooned on that island of despondency without seeing any resources to improve your own situation, much less anyone else's.  Although if a second, unclouded look were possible to the depressed person, he or she would probably see coconuts galore & a cruise ship docking 10 yards away. 

Lincoln was able to see human suffering acutely through the lense of depression.  But there was something inside of him that was able to push past the horror & pain to a place where he could work toward making things better. 

Also, Lincoln was goddamn funny.  Are you familiar with this man's quotes?  Holy shit, they're fantastic!  And even more so if you picture the lanky, morose man uttering them. "When I hear a man preach, I like to see him act as if he were fighting bees."  "If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; if this is tea, please bring me some coffee."  Just one deadpan zinger after another! 

Also, he freed the slaves, which is rad.

It's difficult to know when to relax with your sorrow for a bit, to listen to what it has to say.  And it is even more difficult know when to extricate yourself from that sorrow after you have learned whatever lesson is had to teach you--when it can, from that point on, only provide you with useless pain.

And it is difficult to know when joy is useful in the face of sorrow, suffering, & anxiety.  I spent a little time with my dad today.  He is putting on a brave face, but I know he is scared that he could suffer another stroke.  I know that he is upset that he cannot walk without concentrating and holding on to things.  To counter the unbearable gravity of it all, I behaved much more cheerfully than I felt.  Perhaps it even pained my dad to be in the presence of such obnoxious cheer.  I sang ridiculous songs to the family dogs & parakeet.  I made jokes and laughed at them too loudly.  Then again, perhaps he saw through my own facade of joy, right down to my pit of deep sadness, & that was what really pained him. 

The evening was was an obstacle course, or a balance beam, or a minefield.  An emotionally impossible-to-navigate terrain.
 
But I blundered my way through it with an offer to help & a dumb joke & a sob held tightly in my chest.Which is pretty much a blueprint for any halfway decent political speech.  Nailed it! Medek 2016.