A Stranger in a Strange Land

I’ve been in a 5:00 am groove for a couple weeks now. My eyes pop open right at the stroke. There is always a frustrating dream left swimming in my head, the details of which seem crystal clear when my eyes first open but have vaporized into thin air by the time I walk downstairs to do my morning chores while its still dark outside.

I say a morning prayer while drinking my coffee. I thank God for the blessings of life, for another day. I don’t ask any favors. It seems selfish from someone who has already been given so much. I pray for whoever comes to mind, a friend who just said goodbye to her husband who died of cancer, another friend who recently had surgery and is having a rough time recuperating. Then I open my iPad and start reading the news from overnight.

There’s a story about a group of young men arrested at a gay pride event. The FBI had preempted their intentions to start a brawl in the streets. There was a picture of 30 mugshots of lost young men.

I read about an employee at Google who was let go for a public assertion that his company had created a sentient algorithm.

Then I read a story about the new Army where the traditional drill Sargent was being replaced by a kinder, gentler version more inclined to mentorship than yelling. It will be hard to eventually eliminate this iconic image from my mind…

I am informed about Justin Bieber’s latest health struggles, half of his face having been paralyzed. I wonder what could possible have possessed him to share this news publicly.

I see a mug shot of Nancy Pelosi’s billionaire husband after his arrest on DUI charges. He has the slightly annoyed but confident facial expression of someone secure in the knowledge that he is the billionaire husband of Nancy Pelosi.

Then I scan the financial news. There is a lot of it and it all seems bad. Inflation. Interest rate hikes. The obliterating crash of Bitcoin. Stocks officially in a bear market. Apparently, the pressure is on the Federal Reserve Chairman to either do something or do nothing.

I shut down the news site and escape to the MLB website for a break with the hopes that my heart will be comforted by the familiar and eternal rhythms of box scores. I learn that Stephen Strasberg has once again been deactivated from the Washington Nationals roster by yet another injury. He is currently in year 2 of a 7 year contract that is paying him 35 million dollars a year to pitch a baseball, something he has been physically unable to do almost since the very day he signed the papers. Fortunately for him, the contract was fully guaranteed. Unfortunately for the Washington Nationals, the contract was fully guaranteed.

It is now 6:30 and I feel like a stranger in a strange land. 

It’s time for a run.