Yesterday's drunken ramble

As best as I can remember it:

I'm such a sucker. I mean, emotionally. Heath Ledger is dead? Really? Start to cry and then stop myself. The same as when other celebrities die, or if there's a crazy tween what stole a car and crashed it into the front of a daycare, or a fuel truck on fire right under an overpass, or a plane crashed in my third cousin once removed's back yard in Queens.

I start to cry, and then stop myself. That's why I have to stop listening to Country music. Too much emotional chain yanking, "Elissa Lies?" Change the channel. "Because Of You?" Change. "Stealing Cinderella?" Change faster. Because it isn't even a good song.

I can't do it any more. I can't care. I have to ignore the media, shut myself off, because I have better emotions to feel, and I can't do it with all the angst-generating dreck that the media is pouring, shoveling, hurling our way.

Do I care? Intellectually? Well, yeah. But there's only so much I can do. But getting upset about something--me, personally, getting upset about something--does the victim (of crime or disaster or just mishap) NO FUCKING GOOD WHATSOEVER.

I can't spare that much time to expend that emotion; I have kids who need love and attention, and they don't do well when I'm upset. The proverbial, If Mamma Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy. So I can't care, really, if it ain't worth my time. There's only so much BeerPup to go around.

So I've decided to let Bono do it for me. All that caring? He feels enough for all of us. He created One. So...that's how it will be. Instead of all of us caring about shit, there'll just be One.

We can't all be Bono.