Reflecting Indifference and Fatigue

 BELATEDLY it occurred to me that three days after election day, there are probably about seventy million Americans madder than hell, convinced that their presidential candidate is having the presidency stolen from him, and ready to do something about it, violently if they deem it necessary. Trump supporters gathering outside vote counting venues in several American cities chanting unpleasant  slogans tend to motivate my attitude of disconcerting dread for the next ten weeks. Wanting to stop thinking about the election for a few hours, I dragged my fit but sixty five year old body up and down rocky mountain trails for a few hours with a fellow senior progressive, the trees flaming. When we finished, I suggested that we visit a good friend of ours, a devout Trump supporter. Hell no, said my fellow progressive; right now he wants to kill somebody. I agreed, but avoided thinking about the benefit of having such a friend. The United States is possibly closer to civil war than at any time since the election of Abraham Lincoln in 1860. Closer than the summer of 1932, when the Bonus Army descended upon and occupied Washington D.C.. Certainly closer than during the turbulent late nineteen sixties of my childhood, with the nation torn assunder by racism and Viet Nam. I began to wonder whether it was all worth it,my frantic personal project to unelect Trump, my hatred of the man. I've lost too many friends. I has hoped to reach senior citizenship without such hatred being part of my life. I remember what John Adams said to his wife Abigail on their way out of Capitol City in 1800 after losing the dubious election to Thomas Jefferson. Darling, he said, if he wants it that badly, let him have it. Hell, I survived Trump for four years, I could have kept going. I'm tired. Tired of arguing, trying of trying to convince strangers on the phone to vote. Tired of hating Trump. I'm ready to just stay home, hide from the gathering virus, and let the seventy million angry Trump supporters vent their wrath, hurl their baseless, useless accusations of election stealing. Eventually, they'll use up their hateful energy, and get about the business of trying to find ways of destroying Biden, as they tried so hard to destroy Obama, without success. I am so damned tired. the autumn leaves have reached and passed their peak of color, and are rapidly littering the ground with an explosion of hot, fallen colors.Soon, autumn will turn dull brown. I'm tired of hating Trump, and his immoral supporters. Tired of counting votes, tired of hearing lies, tired of of my own anger and that of others. I'm even tired of walking up and down rocky tree lined mountain trails, seeking as escape I somehow sense I will never find.