145 Comments

I used to be an avid news follower - but after 2016 I just couldn't take it anymore and, surprise surprise, I'm much better mentally. I don't talk politics anymore(especially not on social media) to anyone other than my significant other and a few good friends. There is much more to life than 24/7 news cycles. Thanks for this piece, Matt. Have a great day!

Expand full comment

Asking why the media (digital and social and cable) make us angry is like asking why fast food is fatty, salty and sweet. They sell more of it when they push the buttons embedded in our nature.

Expand full comment

Today's special at the cable news drive-thru: A CNN Burger w / Fox News Fries and a large MSNBC Mountain Dew...the ultimate Happy Meal!

Expand full comment

I needed a re-set. I’ve served my time and should know by now that it’s become a news whirlpool that can literally drown you in a morass of bad feelings. Enough with that. Remember. Easy does it…

Expand full comment

Matt. I think you should become a religion. Or a movement. Or write a creed for a lawn flag. Something like: "In this house we don't believe in, fox or cnn three hours a day, term limits, an absolute right to abortion or guns, Alec Baldwin Ted Nugent"....you get the idea.

Expand full comment

Would I be able to collect tithes and offerings? If so, I might have my attorney look into it.

Expand full comment

I'm thinking you could monatize this in a number of ways. I think about 50% of America is about tired of being taken on a ride by the 25% on either side. Whoever can figure out how to free us from their bondage, or at least make us forget it it in a thought out way, well I'm ready to follow 'em like a thirsty Kool Aid fan at a Jim Jones preaching marathon.

Expand full comment

I'm definitely more of an iced tea guy than a Kool Aid guy. But a lot there to ponder.

Expand full comment

I'm Don Meredith and I approve of this message.

Expand full comment

Fantastic insight into where we are. The great thing, as I tell my students, is that each of us has the ability to fight for our minds. When we take a step back from the edge and look around we can see so much beauty surrounding us. If you get a moment check out Teach to Unite, a project that I started with my former students: https://teachtounite.substack.com/p/choosing-hope?s=r

Expand full comment

Yessir. And sounds like a worthy endeavor,Teacherman.

Expand full comment

My probably idiosyncratic view is that we’re spoiled. Never mind the simplistic solution “if you don’t like the news, make some of your own;” there’s the more profound question of why we think we’re entitled to a world in which what we read and hear is completely anodyne. Since we’re pretty sure to be disappointed with a lot that is said and done, anger seems like self-indulgence. If one feels overwhelmed, back away:

“To make an interior act of renunciation and become a stranger in the world; to watch one’s fellow countrymen as one used to watch foreigners, curious off their habits, patient of their absurdities, indifferent to their animosities—that is the secret of happiness in the century of the common man.”

—From the diary of Evelyn Waugh, March 26, 1961

Expand full comment

I wonder what Waugh would say today?

Expand full comment

A problem as old as the "news" itself.

As the 12th century philosopher Maimonides (most famous for his words "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.") wisely noted:

"Men frequently think that the evils in the world are more numerous than the good things; many sayings and songs of the nations dwell on this idea. ...Not only common people make this mistake, but even many who think they are wise."

Expand full comment

Thanks for a great piece! It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes from Robert Heinlein:

"Remind me to write a popular article on the compulsive reading of news. The theme will be that most neuroses and some psychoses can be traced to the unnecessary and unhealthy habit of daily wallowing in the troubles and sins of five billion strangers. The title is 'Gossip Unlimited' — no, make that 'Gossip Gone Wild.'"

And to think he wrote that in 1961! I couldn't imagine what he'd think of our current predicament. I think we'd all be much better off without 24/7 cable news (to say nothing of Twitter et al).

Expand full comment

Thanks for a lovely piece. What was the old song— blow up your tv and eat a few peaches. Peaches are ripe and delicious right now.

Expand full comment

Thank you. I spent all morning and part of the afternoon trying to talk my husband down from a white-hot rage about gas prices and “greedy oil company executives”, somehow culminating in “why do I even bother to vote!” All fueled by reading the online news on what should have been a beautiful Sunday. I get angry too, believe me, but for my own sanity, I’ve learned to walk outside, breathe the air, look at the forest surrounding our house (we’re blessed to live near Taos, New Mexico), and do my best to maintain my equilibrium. Okay, curmudgeon rant (I’m 61): we as a country were better off when we could only watch the network TV news once a day in the evening and read a printed newspaper once a day in the morning. It let us keep the news in perspective to the vast majority of the rest of our daily lives, instead of constantly threatening to overwhelm us through our phones, tablets, and laptops. I’m tired of being angry all the time.

Expand full comment

Hey, your husband sounds like me on gas prices.

Expand full comment

I thought about you, Matt, when I read Lairie’s comment 😊

Expand full comment

Great post. You and so many of your readers know what’s important in life. If only we could pry some people away from the hate merchants. I’ve never seen them make a life better, but I’ve seen them ruin a few.

Expand full comment

The hate merchants are getting fairly imbedded into our lives through our “used to be cherished” institutions. When people use hate to try to destroy our values, they destroy our country. I’m all for getting out in nature as a temporary antidote, but when you come back, there you are - smack in the middle of the great divide and feeling powerless to change anything. Maybe I’d put Maverick in charge.

Expand full comment

I think you summed up my ambivalence about becoming an expat. My other option is to locate into a region of the country where a higher percentage of people share my values. We already are somewhat sorted, i.e., urban and rural. As a progressive, is my area blue enough? Will very red areas become unsafe for me if I have the wrong bumper sticker on my car? It already makes me nervous that people hang “Fu** Joe Biden” flags (w/o the asterisks) in some rural areas I travel through. I mean J. Christ, people have to drive by that with their kids…it’s just vile. If that occurs, it’s “O Canada” for me (if that’s the place I pick).

Expand full comment

I'll put aside some sufficient cash & go to Australia or NZ ( No offense meant to Canada, I merely prefer warmer climes ), maybe Brazil or Egypt, although for somebody with no roots there, I realize it's not exactly the height of REALISM.

Expand full comment

If you go to NZ or Australia, a word of warning...a neighbor who lives near us - a retired schoolteacher who likes to travel and is a really great, down to earth person (taught all my kids, and as adults they still have some occasional contact with her...from 3 different states) - went on a trip to both not too long before Covid showed up. She told us that wherever she went in either place, whenever she was introduced to someone or had a casual exchange with a store clerk or similar, the first words out of their mouths upon learning she was an American were almost invariably "What the hell's wrong with you people?"

Expand full comment

I'd say something like "why do you think that I'm HERE ? ".

Expand full comment

Precisely. My ex-wife travels internationally (or did before COVID) and they would get that question (more politely) and they would reply something like I wish I knew, we’re not happy with it either. I’d say that question, in baseball terms, is a hanging curveball over the plate, easy to swat.

Expand full comment

I’d love to move to NZ, but I thought I read that you have to be worth $10M to become a citizen, maybe I have that wrong. But I’d prefer a warmer clime too, the appeal of Canada to me is closeness to USA friends and family. Australia is on my list, along with Puerto Rico (I know someone who loves it there), or another Caribbean island. I’ve met some happy expats in the islands. And I hear expats love Switzerland, but I should’ve added that it’s really expensive

Expand full comment

Northern India - I think that I could hang out with the Dalai Lama & try Tibetan - style cuisine. Or maybe the Silk Road. I've had an interest in archeology for a while, even if gets a tad chilly.

Expand full comment

That touches on an interesting point. I need consider the cultural richness of the location.

Expand full comment

That's why God - or maybe it was Dionysius or Bacchus - gave us CBD. I know I mention it a LOT online, but it keeps anxiety from making me melt down. I'm 💯 % serious. I also watch a lot of streaming, almost like a psychic cleanse.

Expand full comment

That's because a ) they have nothing else in their sorry, squalid little shells of lives, & b ) dumping dung on someone else fills a place in their existence.

Expand full comment

I would add that hate is an addiction, just like crack. The hate merchants are essentially drug dealers, and like dealers they prey on the vulnerable, especially older people. And it’s been my experience that drug addicts rarely turn back once they hit a certain age. They’ve lost “hope,” and that’s a tragic place to be as a human being.

Expand full comment

Would it be TOO MUCH to expect people to become addicted to some POSITIVE things ? It's not like they don't exist ! Anything even remotely positive. Gardening, exercise, dancing, collecting curios, taking care of rescue animals, Habitat For Humanity, working at homeless shelters, FISHING, for heaven's sake !

Expand full comment

I share your frustration. With drugs and alcohol, the addict is looking at the world through a very distorted lens, they are incapable of seeing what they are doing to themselves, and those around them. In a moment of sobriety they have to say, I’ll try anything, please help me. My theory is that hate is like that too, but because haters have such a huge support group, it’s very difficult to make them see the light. If you haven’t been exposed to drug addiction very much, watch the movie “28 days,” It’s really good.

Expand full comment

Hate AND tribalist thinking. Shades of grey don't exist for people such as this. Some of whom I'm related to, unfortunately. Unless you're a Trump - worshiping Evangelical, you're a traitor, blah, blah, blah.....

Expand full comment

Brother…I hear you. It’s just like drug addiction, there is no nuance. I’m glad my father is not alive to see this; he was left leaning, as I am and you are. I think he would have had a fatal heart attack. He was pretty far left: kind of refreshing for an old guy. Remember, they are _sick_ and you can’t expect to change them. Don’t beat your head against the wall….take care of you.

Expand full comment

Beautiful finish to an unsettling piece! Thanks again for what you do.

Expand full comment

Wow! I was returning to NJ for summer vacation from Florida ( no it's not an oxymoron) and went the long way to see some friends in Toledo.Myhome there sat on the Maumee and I fell in love with it !Had a chance to spend some time sitting by the River - the 600 mile detour was worth every gallon of premium gas !! It was simply transforming.

Expand full comment

Back in the early '70's as a young married couple, my late wife and I were returning to MI from our hometown in central KY with our 6-mo-old daughter after a Thanksgiving weekend visit. Headed up I-75, it started snowing when we hit Cincinnati. By the time we got to Dayton, it was coming down heavily. And it didn't stop. We managed to make it to the US-23 split and slogged our way to the Maumee exit where the State Police by then had closed the road and were directing traffic into Maumee. Don't recall exactly what time that was, but it was way after dark, and we'd left about 8 or 9 that morning.

Long story as short as I can make it:

Sometime before midnight we ended up in a 'shelter' set up by the Red Cross in a school gymnasium across a street from the Maumee River. Place was packed. Literally nowhere to even sit down. As we stood just inside the doors contemplating returning to the car, parked a fair ways away in what was now the middle of a closed street, so my wife could at least be off her feet, a man and woman about twice our age walked in and started looking around. They looked at my wife standing there with our daughter in her arms and a diaper bag slung over her shoulder, then looked at each other for a second and seemed to nod in agreement about something. Then they walked over the few steps to us and introduced themselves. Said they lived just across the street, had a spare bedroom, and asked if we'd like to come over and spend the night.

Turns out they lived in what once had been the main part of an old grain mill right on the banks of the river, now turned into an absolutely beautiful 2 1/2-story home, literally right on the water. They were both professors at Bowling Green U. and two of the most gracious people I've ever met.

We were quite tired by this point. Worn out, actually. In this time long before cell phones, they offered their home phone so we could call our families to let them know we were ok. Said forget calling collect, just call direct, so our folks wouldn't have to worry for those few seconds after they answered the phone and heard an operator's voice rather than ours. Which we did. And then we slept like babies, along with our own baby, in their very comfortable spare bedroom.

Next mornng, two things were obvious: we wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon, and the view of the river out the story and a half tall picture window at the back of the house, visible in some degree from everywhere in the home except the bedrooms, with the banks blanketed in a couple of feet of pure white snow and set against a sun in a now cloudless blue sky, was all but breathtaking.

We sat and had breakfast, drank coffee, and talked about all manner of things with them, never feeling the least bit uncomfortable or out of place, since that's how truly gracious and kind people make strangers in a bit of trouble feel. And these people were indeed that.

To pass the time, and help 'pay' for our stay, I helped the husband shovel their sidewalks and porches, clean off their vehicles, and then helped him help others in the area do the same, while my wife and his had a bit of a hen party and watched TV and listened to the radio for news of when the roads might be open again. Which turned out to be about 3 in the afternoon.

When we had retrieved our car and were ready to go, I stood looking out that window at the river again for a few moments, as I'd done numerous times that day. I can remember at that moment I had a strange sensation, something I couldn't put my finger on exactly. I let it go, we offered our sincere thanks and some money to pay for the very good food they had fed us and the phone calls, which of course they refused, and we parted as friends, though we all knew we'd probably never see each other again. And several hours of one-lane road later we were back in our own home.

The memory of that has faded a bit now. I'm ashamed to say I can't remember these very nice folk's names. But for all these years, any time I drive over the Maumee River on the way down home, I can't help but think of them and that experience. And I remember thinking years later that you wouldn't think a couple of early 20-somethings with high school educations and a new baby and not a lot of money would have much in common with a couple of late 40-something childless college professors who could afford to live in a place like that. And in a way, we didn't. But in a more important way, we did. And it showed in the way we spent our time together, talking and laughing as if we'd known each other for much, much longer than we actually had.

What we had in common, I've come to realize, was simply basic, uncomplicated, genuine good will. And what I felt looking out over that river for that last time was a small voice trying to make itself heard, trying to say, "This is the way it ought to be."

Expand full comment

Great story. Good will - that sounds like a good answer to an intractable problem.

Expand full comment

That was awesome, M. Thanks for that!

Expand full comment

Thank you, MG68. Didn't really set out to write so much about it, but it really was an experience that has stayed with me all these years, and considering the subject of discussion here, when I read Don's comment and 'Maumee River', it just sort of wrote itself. Poor guy's probably gonna' see this in his inbox, open it up, see how long it is and go WTF??? But truly, thank you for taking the time, and your comment is much appreciated.

Expand full comment

What happened to simple civility & the ability to bond even with differences instead of feeling suspicion, distrust & animosity ? Did that ship sail never to return ?

Expand full comment

I don't know, Daniel. I expect it's still afloat and sailing somewhere. Seems pretty hard to catch sight of it somedays, though...like it's out there just over the horizon, and we're all just waiting and praying for it to come back into view. Maybe a few more of us need to get stranded in a snowstorm a little more often...

Expand full comment

As long as it's not stuck on a reef. I can be a CAUTIOUS OPTIMIST, & some people see a dollop of cynicism on occasion. Even I have trouble telling.

Expand full comment

Yeah, I'm a mixed bag myself. Read something a while back about the difference between being optimistic and hopeful is that an optimist believes that things will most likely be ok, and one who is hopeful realizes that they very well may not be, but that they actually can if the right things happen. Or something to that effect. So, I guess with more than a few shots of 100 Proof cynicism running through my veins I'd say that I'm 'cautiously hopeful'. Which is much better than being hopeless, I suppose. Because when hope itself is gone, there ain't really much left, is there?

Expand full comment

Hey, you work with whatever tools are in your toolbox. Example : I'm not a 100 % atheist, but I don't quite believe in the Abrahamic version of God. Makes it a tad bit potentially awkward at family gatherings if the subject is brought up. I maneuver around religion at family gatherings. I become SLIPPERY..... although I think they at least suspect that I'm un - assimilated ( Borg reference ). " Cautiously hopeful " - Yep, that works.

Expand full comment

Hearing about something relatively " normal " is a breath of fresh air, sunshine & a glass of good Greek Ouzo ( or tequila ) to me. Thanks, Don. OPA or Salud !

Expand full comment

I'll have to settle for a good smoke .

Expand full comment

Thanks for the great reminder for those of us who do get overwhelmed as news junkies.

Expand full comment

I cut-and-pasted your last paragraph and the following quote from Nelson Bryant into my Evernote app. I will read often and pass the advice to my adult children and my three granddaughters PRN. Thanks once again, Matt.

Expand full comment

Few better than Isbell.....in my mind he picked up where Prine (RIP) left off.

I have never been an anger junky. Just wasn't ever in my nature. I think it is an immature emotion and I do my damnedest to act like an adult (at 63). In my opinion, everything springs from either fear or love/joy. I choose the latter.

Oh, and, nature is the gift that keeps on giving.

Music and Beer (in moderation) don't hurt either.

Expand full comment