Oh.......Boy.

I'm beginning to understand why I sleep all day.

Largely, because I can no longer handle it.

It's not depression, my friends; it's just that I am inundated, eight hours a morning, while all of America sleeps, with threats, protests, innuendo, sorrow, fear and an abundance of 'Man's Inhumanity To Man' that would make Jesus want to slap us all, one after another, out the door, line on the left, one cross each.

But I am also far enough 'in the know' to understand that there is no single person, no single point-of-view, no single outlook or media beacon to blame for it.

In the words of Pogo The Possum, "we have met the Enemy, and they is us."

So, I wake up in the morning, and I kiss my wife and tell her that I love her. And I pet the kitties on the head and tell them that they are good boys; good good good good boys. And I go out and I try, in my official and non-official capacity, to make life easier and safer for people I've never met, or had a relationship with.

And I hope that if I can keep stress out of their lives, they will pass it along.

Years ago, when I was an Officer at a TSA Checkpoint at an airport in this Northern State, I came face to face with the kind of blind disdain (hatred is too hard a word, and this disdain was NOT hatred, but it had the road map and knew the way there) that will rock you back on your heels. And that disdain was brought on by the fact that this man and his family were traveling on passports from far away, and they were not Caucasian, and that they had previously had a very bad time at another place with another guy who looked just like me and wore a uniform just like mine.

I smiled in greeting. I was sincere when I asked how the day was going for them. The child smiled at me, but the parents were stone faced as they said, 'Fine, Thank you.'

I asked the usual questions, and asked their patience as we progressed. Still, stone faced.

I asked if there was anything I could do to make their process easier.

The man looked at me, in the eye. It was a hard look, but I was used to hard looks. My smile did not waver, and my sincerity didn't wane in the face of what was going to be an unpleasant jibe.

'Well, if you could just get us to the plane, that would be great.'

My response: 'I'm thinking you've had a bad experience before, and if that's the case, I'm sorry. There are some things we have to do, and if you have any questions about the procedures, I would be happy to answer them. And, I promise that if you give me another five minutes, I will personally escort you to your gate, and I swear you'll be on time.'

That drew a smile from the wife, so now I had two people smiling. The man relaxed a bit, and said, 'Very Well.' Which I thought was nice, because usually, I hear, 'okay', and I'm always fond of variation.

I completed the procedure, waited for them to collect their belongings, passed off my responsibility to another Officer, and escorted them to their gate, as I promised.

And as I bid them a good day and safe travels, the man put his hand out to me. And he said, 'Thank you for being polite.'

I took his hand. "You're welcome."

And he smiled. So, now I had all three of them smiling.

One at a time. One mountain. One river. One misunderstanding. At. A Time.

And in my world of dark cynicism, and sarcasm, and all sorts of ism's and asm's, that's as optimistic as I can be.

Tic is always going to trump Ism's and Asm's.