Digging holes

On the way to the beach, my wife reacted to my quick list of distressing world news: “the guy is obviously crazy and trying to burn as much as possible before he gets pushed out of office. The next crew will patch stuff up and make their own mistakes along the way”. On the parking lot, a bumper sticker reads: “call me when you’re great again” - parked between a beach bum minivan and a huge pickup truck.

I got carried away digging a big hole in the sand with my kids. In the process I thought of the US government and my career. We’re both, more or less metaphorically, digging holes. The absurdity and stupidity seem similar, it’s the magnitude of impact that makes a difference. Venezuela, ICE, Iran, Greenland, Epstein, tariffs, AI defense contracts… the list is long and appalling. The tide will rise.

A seagull took advantage of us being captivated by our digging operations and snagged one of our snack bags. We ran after a bunch of birds who were minding their own business. Kiddo tried to get a fat seagull. He lost the intimidation game. We need a fucking seagull in the White House.