15 Minutes with Kevin in Evanston
Kevin was on his own. His endgame, I had figured out, was just to let his rage unfurl until the booze wore off. At which point, assuming he avoided arrest, he’d walk home. I figured this because I had been there before. And truth be told, I was having a bit of a bad day, too. Nothing specific. Just a general sense of annoyance with being awake. It happens. It’s one of the reasons we drink beer in bars and put up with bar trivia hosts.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 11, 2020
Most of the drunks I’ve come to know are really fun and funny people. I miss carousing with and observing with their kind. It’s not COVID’s fault—it’s the fault of age, responsibility, and domestication. The silver lining is that my two-year-old son often acts and talks like a drunkard, which quenches my thirst for being among fun lunatics with bad habits.
Anxiety is the thing that’s ripped our country apart. It has divided us, caused us to fear and hate those who think and live differently than us, and even caused us to hate those who only slightly disagree with us. It has led to panic and overreaction. And I worry that American Anxiety is only going to exacerbate the social and political divide in this country to the point that there is no coming back.