When I was Editor

Art by my daughter Isabel Bryna. Her imagery soars into the cosmos lighting the way to a more munificent world.

I write these words with a heavy heart as I watch our nation being unfairly, vindictively and most of all, stupidly, destroyed by the Trump Administration.  

We are not a perfect country. When you choose democracy you understand the necessity for compromise, which is a dirty word for extremists. Our founders were not extremists. The current president and his apparatchiks are exactly that, or cowards.

For the past month I have witnessed an unconscionable tearing apart of the American dream that includes personal freedom and equality for all. We're supposed to be the good guys. We help people, root for the underdog. Lend a hand to our neighbors and community. But no more. The President is a bully, a monger for power. He hates poor people, has no use for them. It's all about grifting for more wealth for himself and his family and his wealthy donors. He has alienated and divided us.

If you've been paying attention, you understand that a sea change is taking place throughout the world. Strong men, authoritarians, are drawing lines. You're either in or you're out. Zero sum. Extreme is the word of the day.

To assuage my sorrow about all of this, I've been watching and listening to the comedy of Stephen Colbert and John Lawrence who make fun of the hypocrisy and horror of what's going on. I get a good laugh and feel better for a moment. And the Golden State Warriors have been playing better and that's lifted my spirit a tad. I've also been listening to my favorite songs and artists. I hear a phrase from The Beach Boys' "God Only Knows" and tears fill my eyes. I found Judy Collins and Leonard Cohen singing "Suzanne" together on YouTube and my heart swelled as I remembered that era. 

Maybe I'm just getting old and wistful. I haven't been able to write much. Over the past nearly ten years I've bared my soul in stories on this blog. Some pieces I have taken off the platform because they are so personal. One of my blog posts was deleted. I don't know why. Either I was hacked or Google -- the host of this blog site -- decided it was unfitting. I can't contact a real person at Google to ask. "They" never informed me about why they removed the post, which was about my ancestors, the Civil War and why we should elect a woman for president.

I wrote a harmless piece following the recent election and tried to share it on Facebook, which informed me that it didn't meet their standards (?). So Zuckerberg censored me while at the same time he informed the world that he was allowing free speech on FB. I say, bullshit.

Given the censorship of my writing, I have essentially divorced myself from FB and I'm considering ending by blog on Google. I figured that the title of this blog post would pass the censors. Note that Trump is surrounding himself with propagandists and fake news makers, taking seats away from legitimate news sources like the nonpartisan Associated Press. 

One of my great memories and experiences was working as editor for several publications. I loved dealing with writers, especially young people just starting. I also looked for the best writers who told their stories most honestly and gracefully. I was a light editor, which means in editing a piece for publication, I attempted to maintain the voice of each writer. I have been published in various periodicals and found that some editors will always rewrite your copy. I believe this leads to the same sing-song voice in every story. 

It's been my pleasure to produce this blog in my own words without an editor. Although I'm sure my writing at times has suffered from not having a perspicacious editor. 

So if you don't hear from me for a while, you know why. I'm hanging out, watching and waiting to see what happens. If something inspires me, I may post. Thank you for joining me on this journey of words and ideas. Peace be with you. Don't let the bastards get you down. 

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make. -- the Beatles, from Abbey Road