life

Exit 216. Knowing that I haven’t been forgotten.

I’ve been away from this site for a few weeks. Sorry. Life just got in the way.

I’m ready to hide from the world for a long time. The world is quickly descending into madness.

Yesterday I got something completely unexpected in the mail. I have a friend on Facebook who observes National Handwriting Day. She asked for anyone who wanted her to send a handwritten card in the mail. I said sure, as I had in a previous year as well. National Handwriting Day is in January; she got behind this year, but the card still came in the mail, finally yesterday. I had completely forgotten about this until I saw who it was from. She isn’t someone I see on a regular basis anymore. Life just changes, and I haven’t seen her in person since she made the post about National Handwriting Day in January.

Even in this mad, chaotic world, little things like knowing that I haven’t been forgotten can really make my day sometimes.

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Exit 215. Time to tear it down.

Something came up this morning at church that I had never noticed before, something very relevant to my life currently.

Moses delivered the nation of Israel from slavery under Pharaoh, but because of their unfaithfulness, God did not let them enter and conquer their rightful home for 40 years, until all the unfaithful have died. They don’t learn their lesson, and at one point, they complain to Moses about the living conditions in their nomadic state.  God punished the unfaithful by making some of them die of snake bites.  The survivors asked and prayed for forgiveness, and God told Moses to make a bronze statue of a snake and put it somewhere for people to look at it, to remember God’s faithfulness to them.  Anyone who was bitten by a snake could look at the bronze snake and live (Numbers 21:4-9).

Hundreds of years later, Israel is an established nation with a king… well, briefly. They plunge into civil war and divide into two nations. The northern kingdom did not follow the commandments of God, and the southern kingdom mostly did not either, although there were a few southern kings who did bring the people back to following God during their nonconsecutive reigns.  One of those was Hezekiah, who lived about 700 years before the coming of Jesus.  The Second Book of Kings says that “He [Hezekiah] did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, just as his [ancestor] David had done.  He removed the high places, smashed the sacred stones, and cut down the Asherah poles.  He broke into pieces the bronze snake Moses had made, for up to that time the Israelites had been burning incense to it.”  (2 Kings 18:3-4)

The bronze snake that Moses made was still there, over half of a millennium after Moses’ time. But its original purpose had long since passed. All of the people who looked at it to heal their snake bites had been dead for a long time. For the new generation, it was not helping them to look to God and worship him, or to remember what God had done for them and their ancestors; instead, it was doing the opposite, serving as a focal point for the worship of other gods.  God himself had completely disappeared from the worship that was happening at the snake.  So Hezekiah finally realized it was time to tear it down.

God does not always work among us in the same way.  God’s work in one place at one time might not work in another place and time, and God might have not intended it for that place or time.  At first, this didn’t really seem right to me.  Isn’t God constant and unchanging?  Well, yes, he is, but these two statements are not necessarily in conflict with each other.  God can still be constant and unchanging while working in different ways specific to certain times and situations.  God worked through the reformers of the 16th century to bring knowledge of the Scriptures to the common people and work against corruption in the church.  But in the USA in the 21st century, most people know how to read and have access to the Bible, and taking down the kind of corruption that churches today may see will require God working in a different way, even though the ultimate principle of turning people back to him and away from corrupt and fallen earthly institutions remains constant and unchanging.

Another example just came to me now as I was writing this.  Many people who have not studied Christianity in detail tend to think that God was so different in the Old Testament compared to what he is like in the New Testament or now.  In the Old Testament, God often told his people to make war with and destroy and kill neighboring countries.  And, as we just saw, once he sent snakes to bite those who questioned him.  How does one reconcile this with all of his commandments about love, or with Jesus’ self-sacrificial love?  The short answer is because in the time of the Old Testament, the time had not come yet for God to send his Son to Earth.  First, he had to prepare a nation through which Jesus would be born, and in order to this, he had to remove all the corrupting sinful influences from this nation… hence, the making war with neighboring countries.  God no longer tells us to make war with countries that have different beliefs, because this is a different time.  Jesus came to bring the message of salvation to all, and we can send missionaries to teach other cultures about Jesus, and we can lead by example.  God is no longer preparing a nation to give birth to the Messiah; that happened already.

This concept extends beyond the idea of Christianity, and it makes me think a lot of my struggles in trying to figure out life and adulthood.  Twenty years ago, I made friends by being involved with two college-age Christian student groups.  That was good.  Some of my closest friends over the years have come from doing that.  But that does not work anymore.  I now live in an area where most churches are geared toward families, not college students, because that is who lives here.  And very few churches have youth groups for 42-year-olds.  So I have had to look for other ways to make friends.  Nothing has changed, and I don’t have to change any of my core beliefs.  But what worked in one place at one time doesn’t always work for other places and times.

Sometimes I feel like the last one standing for God, like I am desperately hanging on to God’s truth while the world descends into chaos around me.  But maybe it’s not that black and white.  Maybe some of what I hold on to is ways that God isn’t moving in my life anymore, and maybe it is okay to let go of some of these ways without having to compromise my core beliefs.  Maybe this is what is getting in the way, why I feel like my life isn’t exactly progressing in the right direction.  But how do I know what to hold on to and what to let go of?  As always I will only know with prayer, and listening to the Holy Spirit, and knowing God’s Word.

Exit 214. Insomnia is infuriating.

Nothing seems unusual for the first hour.  For all my life, it has never been unheard of for me to take a while to fall asleep.  But if I am still awake after an hour, a feeling of dread starts to settle in.  Usually by then, a feeling of having to go to the bathroom has settled in as well, so I get up and deal with that.  I go back to bed and try to relax.

The end of the second hour is when I really start to feel doomed.  I can often tell by then that I’m just not going to be falling asleep.  Usually by then I have to go to the bathroom again, and I’m desperate to get rid of as many distractions as possible that might keep me awake all night, so I get up again and go to the bathroom.  It is at this point that I try doing something else for a bit to get my mind off of whatever is keeping me awake.  If I work the next day, I’ll make my lunch now; that’ll give me an extra few minutes in the morning just in case I do happen to fall asleep.  Sometimes I’ll read for a while.  Eventually I’ll try going back to bed.  I’ll set my alarm for about 45 minutes later than the time it usually goes off, so that I will wake up with the absolute bare minimum amount of time to get ready and dressed in the morning and not be too terribly late to work.  Every minute of potential sleep counts.

If I don’t fall asleep at this point, I start questioning why I am being punished with this inability to sleep.  Am I just subconsciously, or consciously, worrying about something?  Was it because of something I ate?  Did I just eat too much too late at night?  Did I drink too many caffeinated beverages?  Was I looking at too many screens too late at night?  I start to get angry and frustrated over the lack of consistency.  I remember other nights when I did whatever it might have been that is keeping me awake, but had no trouble falling asleep.  Why do there seem to be absolutely no rules here?  Insomnia is infuriating.

Sometimes, between the third and fourth hour, I get desperate.  I start lamenting whatever it is that is wrong with me that causes me to experience this hell.  If I have any in the medicine cabinet, I’ll take some medication for colds or allergies that causes drowsiness, even though I don’t have a cold and am not bothered by allergies.  That also gets me to the bathroom to take another bathroom break.  And this is when I start to notice the headache setting in.  A sense of dread begins to overwhelm me as I realize that I’m going to have to go to work tomorrow with this headache.   I contemplate taking a sick day, but then I realize that no one else can do my job, not being there just gets everyone behind, and preparing not to be there is often quite a bit of work in and of itself.  Most of the time, I just decide to ride it out and go to work anyway, and try to survive until lunch when I might get in a 20-minute nap with my head down on the desk.

Eventually, after a few more hours of helplessly tossing and turning, I realize that my alarm would have gone off by now had I not changed it earlier in the night.  I give up and get dressed and go about my day, simply hoping to survive until I get home, and hoping that it will be a long time before I experience this misery again.  Unfortunately, the nights of insomnia have become more frequent lately.  Every time, when I finally get to sleep after being awake for 30-40 hours in a row, I hope that these days are behind me.  We’ll see.

Exit 213. All of this has taken a heavy toll.

August is almost over.  It has been good so far.  The new school year is mostly starting well, although I have one class with all of the behavior problems together in the same room.  And I have had a lot of fun times with friends and family.

But all of this has taken a heavy toll on me.

I am exhausted all the time.  I have been having trouble sleeping again.  And at times, I have been short-tempered and irritable over insignificant things.

I need to get back into some healthy habits that have gone by the wayside during the last extremely busy few weeks.  Getting more exercise.  Eating less junk food.  Time in prayer and Scripture.  Stuff like that.

Hopefully September will feel a little more normal.

Exit 211. I see them running too.

I discovered classic rock in the early 1990s, my high school years.  As my teens wore on, I realized that I was enjoying less and less the R&B and rap that the remaining radio station of my childhood played.  By the middle of my high school years, the stations that played what I considered good music of that time period were gone.  MTV still played music in the mornings, and they had the show where they played the most requested videos of the day that came on in the early evening.  I watched a lot of that, especially during school breaks when I was home in the morning.  But when I was listening to the radio while in my room doing homework, or in the car once I started driving, I wasn’t finding anything I liked among the numerous R&B, rap, country, and Spanish-language stations that Monterey County was in range of at the time.  There were a couple of classic rock stations, playing rock music from a time period that spanned from the mid-1960s (my parents’ teen years) to the mid-1980s (my childhood).  Most of these songs were before my time, and I didn’t remember them.  Some of them were by artists I had never heard of.  But I came to discover that I enjoyed it.  Good music.

Some of these songs remained background music to me for decades, coming up every once in a while while flipping around the radio, without me actually paying close attention to the lyrics.  And sometimes, I will actually listen closely to the lyrics of a song like this for the first time, and I’ll have a sudden realization and find some meaning in the song that I had never found before.

Like this one.

Running On Empty was first released in 1977.  I don’t remember 1977.  I wasn’t old enough to eat solid food or wipe my own butt in 1977.  I probably was in high school listening to classic rock radio in the car when I first heard this song.  Or possibly it might have been while watching Forrest Gump, during the montage in which Forrest is running across the country; that movie was released a few months after I graduated from high school.  But I think I already knew of the song’s existence by then.

And I did have some idea what the song was about.  Life on the road.  Constantly moving from one place to another with no clear destination.  And that is a feeling I know well.  Sometimes I don’t know where my life is going.  Sometimes I feel like my direction and goals are unclear.  And I literally spent four months on the road in 2005 trying to find myself, not knowing the specifics of where I was going more than a week or so in advance at the most.

But then, a couple years ago, the song came on, and one part of the lyrics really stuck out to me, at the end of the third verse:

I look around for the friends that I used to turn to pull me through
Looking into their eyes I see them running too…

I see them running too.  Everyone around me has their own struggle to find their destination and meaning in life.  It’s not just me.  I’m not alone.

Knowing that doesn’t always help me find my answers or my destination.  But it still helps to know that my struggles are not unique, and that there are others running on the same road I am.

Exit 209. The week that everything happened.

In my last post, I made reference to “The Week That Everything Happened.”  I have used this name at times to refer to a period of seven days in my life in which, as the words suggest, a lot of things happened, many of which were the kind of things that affected me for a long time.   I’ve never explained exactly when that was or what happened, though… so it’s story time, especially since the anniversary of The Week That Everything Happened is this coming week.  As usual, I won’t mention names, and if there is someone in these stories whom I have told about before, I will use the same pseudonym I’ve used for them before (“Mimosa,” for example).

The Week That Everything Happened was Friday, July 30, through Thursday, August 5, 2010.  Eight years ago.  In the time leading up to this week, I was living in the same house where I am now.  It was summer, and it was toward the end of summer break at the school where I worked at the time.  I had been doing a lot of swing dancing and blues dancing that summer.  At the time, I was carpooling to both dancing places with a girl who lived not too far from me, whom I will call “IC443”.  I’ve told previously (#12) about a party I had been to in Davis earlier in July 2010, hosted by some college-age friends.  Most of the people at this party were from the swing dancing student club at UC Davis (some of them I already knew from my usual dancing place), and for part of that summer my friend and I started crashing the UC Davis swing club, just because we wanted to dance.  But there was also a much younger girl from that group, Mimosa, who I had been talking to a lot, to the point that other people were starting to notice and wonder if something was going on between us.  I had plans coming up to go on a long bike ride with her.

Friday afternoon, July 30.  A friend had a picnic in the park birthday party.  One of her friends, “Y Sextantis,” left before I did.  A few minutes later, the birthday girl told me that Y Sextantis had texted her and told her to give me her number and tell me to call her.  That caught me completely off guard.  Y Sextantis is cute, but she didn’t seem like my type, and more importantly, I had plans with Mimosa the next day, so I didn’t respond to that.  However, Y Sextantis found me on Facebook a few weeks later, and we did end up spending a day together in September.  I’m still in Facebook and Instagram contact with Y Sextantis, but I don’t think I’ve seen her in person since then, and I’m still pretty sure she’s not my type.

Friday night.  I gave IC443 a ride to swing dancing.  On the way, I was talking about my plans with Mimosa the next day.  IC443 has a very different background on dating and relationships compared to me, as most people do, and I got a little frustrated with some of the things she was saying.  Something changed that night.  We never carpooled again, and she never really seemed as friendly toward me after that.  I don’t know if it was because of the way I acted while we were talking, or because she just happened to find new friends the following week who were younger and more attractive and more popular, or if she just does things on whims for no reason.  It could have been any of those.  I still tried to be friendly to her for a while, but never got much more than hello out of her.  At some point in the future, she stopped going dancing.  She came back once in 2015 and was friendly again, but we didn’t stay in touch.

Saturday morning, July 31.  My long bike ride with Mimosa.  I didn’t sleep much the night before.  I was nervous.  At one point later in the day, I kissed her… at several points, actually.  It was my first kiss in over three years.  Everything felt wonderful, and it didn’t seem to matter that I was 33 and she was 20.

Saturday afternoon and evening.  I dropped off Mimosa at her friend’s house after our bike ride date, as we had planned.  I went home and showered.  I was going to a wedding that evening of some friends from church, and they had asked me to bake something to serve at their reception.  After I was done baking, I attempted a quick nap, since I had only slept for about an hour and a half the night before and I had ridden my bike about 40 miles that morning.  There was dancing at the wedding reception.  One of my dance friends, “Gamma Comae,” also knew the couple getting married; she was there with her entire family.  That night was the first time I remember talking to her 16-year-old sister, “Sulafat,” although to this day Sulafat insists that she already knew me, or at least knew who I was, at that time.  A few years later, Sulafat (at that time 19) and I carpooled to a mutual friend’s game night, and in that half hour car ride we quickly went from acquaintances who say hi in passing occasionally to close friends, which we still are today.  But we first talked (and danced) at that wedding during The Week That Everything Happened.

Later Saturday night.  I was going to hang out with friends after the wedding, even though it was going to be pretty late by then.  Gamma Comae was friends with this group too, so both of us carpooled there (to the house of the same mutual friend from the game night a few years later in the above paragraph).  Mimosa and her friend with whom I dropped her off earlier were there too.  On the way home, at about 2am, Gamma Comae asked me how I was still functioning, since I had slept for less than two hours of the last 44 or so.  I guess I was just on a high because of the whole Mimosa situation.

Sunday, August 1.  I went to the fair with a friend.  The concert that night was Weird Al Yankovic, the most recent of two times I’ve seen him live.

Monday, August 2.  I was in Davis hanging out with Mimosa for most of the day.  We went to see Toy Story 3 in the afternoon.  Great movie.  Then we hung out at her house for a while.  That night we went to the swing dancing club at UC Davis, and after dancing came back to her house for a few hours of kissing.  I was really on a high at that point.

Tuesday, August 3.  In the morning, I made the Facebook song lyric quote that I wrote about in #208 last week.  That night, I went to the Sacramento River Cats game with some friends from church (that’s AAA baseball, one step below Major League).  I don’t remember much about the game (I looked it up, the River Cats lost, 7-5 to Las Vegas), but I do remember texting Mimosa during the game; she was packing to go out of town to visit her friend for a few days.  I’ve already told the rest of that story twice on here.  But there was another long-term consequence of the Mimosa incidents: a couple weeks later, we were still trying to be friendly, and she mentioned that she and her aforementioned friend knew someone who they wanted to set me up with.  At first I didn’t like their friend, but a few months later we seemed to click better… and that was Acrux, the horrible relationship that I was in for most of 2011, the one that became long distance because she decided she was going to move away without even discussing it with me, and then she didn’t make me a priority once she moved away.

Wednesday, August 4.  As far as I can remember, nothing special happened this day.

Thursday, August 5.  I went to a friend’s birthday dinner.  I talked a lot with one of her friends, “Aurora” (whom I mentioned in one of the other stories I linked to this one).  We got to be close over the next few months (and we actually figured out that we had met once before, through the same circle of friends, but neither of us realized it at the time), and the following January she told me that she liked me.  We hung out a lot for a couple months, but I just wasn’t feeling it, and I felt terrible having to tell her so.  I felt especially terrible because this was all during the same time that I was first getting to know Acrux, and I feel like I had to choose one over the other.  I didn’t go on an actual date with Acrux until I knew I really wasn’t into Aurora, but I still wonder if my judgment wasn’t clouded.  In hindsight, I don’t think either of them would have been right for me.  I did end up on good terms with Aurora, although I haven’t actually seen her in two years.

So what does it all mean that all of these things happened within a week of each other?  Probably nothing.  But all these little things together have made that week feel like a turning point in my life.  I guess there isn’t really a point to this story.  I like stories.  Have a good week, everyone.

Exit 204. I’m sitting on a train from Sacramento to San Jose right now with no idea what to write.

I’m sitting on a train from Sacramento to San Jose right now with no idea what to write.

Someone I know just got on the train in Davis.  I would say that that was unexpected, but maybe it’s not.  Since June of 2017, I have made three round trips on Amtrak, and twice someone else I know ended up on the same train as me.  Maybe it’s just that I know a lot of people.

The Wi-Fi on the train is actually working today.

I made a list of goals for the summer, as I said I would do last week.  I haven’t made much progress on it, but that’s okay, because I have plenty of time.  I did make small dents in the total number of miles I want to run and bike before I go back to work,   I thought about doing one of my bigger goals (go to a Giants game) last week, but I backed out at the last minute on the grounds that I was better off taking some down time, starting my Teacher Summer with a week and a half of dead time, then going to visit my family (hence today’s train ride, which will be followed by a bus ride from San Jose to Salinas), then tackling my big adventures after that.  But after watching the game I didn’t go to from home, I wish I had gone, because the Giants came back from a two run deficit in the 9th inning to force extra innings and win in the 10th.

The aforementioned dead time was just the right balance of fun, relaxing, and productive.  And now I get four days with my parents, not having to worry about things like making dinner every night.

I left a pile of dirty dishes in the sink at home.  Probably not the best idea.  I hope I don’t come home to a big stinky mess.  I was going to put them in the dishwasher before I left, but there were still clean dishes in the dishwasher from yesterday.  And I literally didn’t have time to put the clean dishes away, because I had a train to catch.  Oh well.  It’s not the end of the world.

I’m now somewhere in the marshlands between Suisun and Martinez, and I still have no idea what to write about.  So I guess this is it.  This is your post for the week.  Have a great week, everyone.

Exit 203. I need to sit down and write out a list of goals.

It’s summer.  Well, not technically.  From the astronomical perspective, summer begins on June 21 at 10:07 UTC (which would be 3:07am here in my time zone in California).  But the school year is over for me, so it’s Teacher Summer.

Every year, around this time, friends ask me what my plans are for the summer.  Every year, I say something like just sit around and relax.  And every year, when school is ready to start again, I feel unaccomplished, like there was so much more I wanted to do before the school year starts.

At some point in the next few days, I need to sit down and write out a list of goals for the summer.  I don’t want to try to take on too much, but I also should include a few goals that are a little ambitious, or at least out of my comfort zone.  If I actually write these down or make some kind of formal statement that these are my goals, then I am more likely to actually accomplish them, or at least put more effort into attempting to do so.  I say this every year at the start of summer, and every year around New Year’s Day-ish, but then I rarely do.

I have before, and writing goals down has actually motivated me to do them in the past.  I was about to tell a story about a time when I made a goal for myself that was quite far out of my comfort zone, but I actually did it.  However, I then discovered that I’ve told this story before on here a long time ago, and alluded to it on multiple occasions.  For that matter, I’ve had several other posts like this where I say I need to make some goals… and then I don’t.

So, friends, start bugging me about this.  Remind me to come up with a list of goals.  I don’t know yet if I can promise that I’ll share them on here.  If I know you well, I may be willing to share them privately with you.  But the important thing is that this needs to get done.  So keep reminding me.

Exit 201. Bullet points and thoughts about the weekend.

I missed last week.  Sorry.

And I’m not sure what to write about this week.

But I had a great weekend.  So I’ll just share some bullet points and thoughts about the weekend.

Friday night, a friend went out for sushi and issued an open invitation.  Three of us plus her showed up.  My mom noticed that my friend had tagged me in a Facebook post and said that she didn’t know I liked sushi.  I don’t know when I tried sushi for the first time, but it was definitely in adulthood.  I probably would have thought the idea of sushi was disgusting as a kid, but it’s good to try new things, because sometimes you like them.

Saturday morning, I played Pokemon Go and helped some friends move.  I watched exactly none of the royal wedding.

Saturday night, I had people over for another one of my retro gaming parties.  It was a small crowd, only 10 of us, but we had fun.  Sometimes a small crowd is a good thing.  I feel more connected to everyone.

This morning, I went to my old church in Davis, because the youth pastor, under whom I volunteered in my early 20s, is leaving the church staff and changing careers after having been there for over two decades.  They had a reception for him after the service.  It was heartwarming and uplifting to hear so many stories about his work in youth ministry.  I shared about how, in addition to having such a heart for the young people of the community, he invested in the lives of the volunteer leaders the same way.  It was also inspiring for me to be greeted by so many old friends who are still at that church, and some who came just for that event as I did, almost 17 years after I moved away.

Then I came home and took a long nap, so I hope I’m able to fall asleep tonight.  If I’m not, I have plenty of cleaning to do to tire me out.

How were all of your weekends?

Exit 200. Emotional clutter.

As I said recently, I have been wondering again whether or not it is time to cut my losses and start over somewhere else other than California.  This is a very difficult decision, and I have a lot to lose if I don’t make the right decision.  It isn’t as simple as, say, getting groceries from a different store or taking your money to another bank.  Those decisions can be reversed with relative ease compared to leaving a job I love and the only state I’ve really known as home.

I’m not here to announce a conclusive decision.  But in thinking and praying about this over the last few weeks; I have come to one important conclusion: My life is too cluttered, both physically and emotionally.

Physical clutter is easy to identify and remove. Put stuff away when I’m done with it.  Make a place to put things away instead of just tossing them on a table.  Throw away or donate things I don’t need that take up space.  Although physical clutter is easy to identify, it is very time consuming to deal with completely, but this is something I can work on over time.

Emotional clutter is a bit more complicated.  When I say emotional clutter, I mean things that are clouding my head and my moods and feelings that don’t need to be there.  Emotional clutter takes a variety of forms.  All the hundreds of people who I follow on social media just because we were acquaintances briefly in the recent past, despite the fact that they are not the kind of people I would normally be friends with, are emotional clutter.  Situations in which I put myself and stress myself out about, despite the fact that these situations are not enjoyable to me, that is emotional clutter.  Pages and blogs that I follow because I used to know the author, but which cover topics that are of no interest to me, those are emotional clutter.

I have been spending time the last couple weeks fiddling with my Facebook settings, making some tough decisions about who can see my posts and whose posts I see.  I have also been thinking a bit about how, and with whom, I spend my time, and if I need to cut certain activities and places out of my life.  These aren’t easy decisions.  Cutting people out of my life isn’t in my nature.  I spent too much of my childhood and young adult years being lonely and not having many friends, and it hurts me to think of friendship as expendable.

A few months ago, I wrote (part 1, part 2) about having unfriended five people on Facebook in one day, something I don’t believe I had ever done before.  One of these people was SN1604, the girl I dated off and on in 2015.  I made this decision on the grounds that, even though there was a time when SN1604 and I were very close, and there were times that it was looking like we would stay good friends despite our history, her more recent behavior has shown that it was not realistic for me to hope that things would ever be like that again.  The few times we did communicate in 2017, for example, all started with me hoping that maybe we would be close again, and ended a few minutes later with her not replying to a message in a conversation she technically started.  I never see her in person anymore, and keeping her in my life on social media was just causing more disappointment and pain.

I am realizing that I can, and should, apply the SN1604 Doctrine in other areas of life.  Maybe some of the activities that I enjoy aren’t worth it, because the other people involved with those activities are not the kind of people I want to be friends with.  Maybe some people I’ve known for decades aren’t worth staying in touch with, because all they want to do is spew hateful political rhetoric.  These are tough decisions, though, because there are things I enjoy about these activities themselves, and some of the people spewing hateful political rhetoric were a big part of my life at one point.  I don’t know.  But at least I’m asking the right questions now.