Drunk Behind the Wheel
It's been a rough few months. We've been yelling and screaming, "This is not normal," while those on the right politically have been calling us names and telling us we're sore losers.
(Considering recent events, I think we're vindicated. They just don't see that yet.)
You know what this has felt like? It feels like last November we were forced into a car with a drunk driver.
No one would willingly get into a car with a drunk driver. Right? But, it feels kind of like this. We tried to get out. We did everything we could think of to prevent it. Yet, the drunk ended up behind the wheel, and we ended up as his passenger.
So, naturally we've been yelling and screaming. And the drunk behind the wheel (and his buddy in the front passenger seat) has been telling us to pipe down. We're breaking his concentration. He's got this, he says. We know he doesn't.
He's been careening around. Driving erratically. Knocking over mailboxes.
But the driver tells us it's all fine. No big deal. He's a great driver.
You'd think that now, after he sideswiped a police cruiser, he'd have been pulled over. Stopped. But no. Somehow, he manages to careen on.
We know what happens to the passengers of the drunk. The drunk walks away without a scratch, but the passengers aren't so lucky.
We see the big brick building coming up. We're screaming. Swerve. Stop. But no. He's heading right for it.
And we're still stuck in the car.
That's what this year has felt like, at least to me.
Why is this so hard for people to understand?