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The good life
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Dear Editor: Yesterday I read in the paper, T. Pat Cavanaugh’s column "In mourning" I do not write comments to editors, but as your will see from what follows, "perplexed" is not exactly how I feel.

Sunday I went to Sunday school — that doesn’t necessarily make me a good guy. The Congress planned to vote later that day. My thoughts were that it would be a tough vote. I believed there was the option to take it to the Senate, where additional matters would play out. Life is good in America.

I went to my part time job at the Gwinnett Arena to usher for the Gladiators hockey game, where Sponge Bob was the fan celebrity. I smiled at patrons to help make their day pleasant. The Gladiators won, they beat Trenton. It rained, but Gladiator fans were happy. The Congress was voting. The clouds I saw did not register as a warning; I’m not a believer in omens. Life is good in America.

I came home to Social Circle, to have supper with my wife. I was determined not to talk about the drag strip. I wanted sit on our screened porch overlooking our pond and catch up on the day’s activities of our granddaughters. Their cheerleading teams were competing in Jacksonville, Fla. For the first time in three years both their teams were competing for first place. My wife told me they both won. We watched the internet videos and looked at cell phone pictures. We texted the girls, sharing our joy for them. The Congress had voted and I did not know the outcome. Life is good in America.

Around 8 p.m., I turned on the TV and before the sound came up I saw smiles, which needed no words to explain. I said to my wife that I did not want to watch what was happening. I believe that for as long as I can recall, this was the first time, I did not want to be a witness to an historic event playing out before my eyes. I felt sick. But life is good in America.

I have not read one article pertaining to the course of Sunday’s Congressional vote. I have turned away when it has been covered on TV. I have not watched Fox, CNN, ABC or even listened to Bortz and others for over five days. It is sometimes hard just to swallow, when I think about this. I am trying to regain a degree of resolve to plod on… not with a feeling of fear (although maybe I should)…not with a feeling of anger (although down deep it is there)…not with a feeling of disenfranchisement (because this is a Democratic governance)…as yet I cannot get my arms around this matter… bewilderment, maybe… perplexity, perhaps…not belonging anymore, conceivably…passed by, possibly…out of sync, I just do not know. Is life good in America? This does not require an answer, we know what it is, however the optimal word is "good" and now it has a different meaning.