#114 Part Of The Solution? Or Part Of The Problem...
When reality intrudes
This is the question I ask myself every week.
Do I have an obligation to stick to my mission of lifting others up by providing a distraction?
Or an obligation to raise some sort of rallying cry?
Am I part of a bigger problem by choosing one over the other?
I have personally turned to escapism often.
Getting through a lot of my worst days by pushing reality aside and burying myself in “feel good” entertainment.
Old episodes of the Dick Van Dyke Show are helpful.
So are silly movies like Miss Congeniality.
I imagine many people are the same.
How else to explain all the lighthearted fare filling the airwaves and newspapers during WW II?
I mean, it’s hard to imagine a more desperate time in human history. Yet professional writers, artists and performers of all stripes buckled down and, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year, cranked out upbeat music and jokes. Comic strips and radio comedies created their own version of reality for a public that desperately needed something to laugh at.
Some of that output ignored the war. But a lot leaned into it – understanding that belittling Hitler and the Nazis was a form of therapy.
I have always understood the role played by such escapist entertainment.
But spent most of my life as a consumer of the material rather than a creator.
I don’t think I really ever understood how hard it must have been for those folks to keep their chins up while giving us all that levity.
What did it cost them?
Were they losing loved ones while they kept doing this weird job where they had to pretend everything was fine?
I can’t speak for them.
I can only express my own situation.
Every single week since the November election I have struggled.
Struggled mightily to stick to my mission of making this a relaxing, and often silly, space.
Struggled to know which side of the line is my responsibility.
Struggled to beat my own inertia.
The easiest answer would be to publish nothing.
In fact, for a very long stretch post Covid I did exactly that. And took almost two years off.
It was not a happy time.
Plus, instead of making me feel better, stifling my creativity and keeping my head down made me feel an awful lot worse.
Part of the reason for the hiatus was that I was blogging rather than doing a newsletter. The number of people reading my stuff was small and difficult to pin down and I didn’t get a lot of direct feedback.
These days I feel incredibly lucky to have a loyal audience here on Substack that tells me it is getting benefit from my weekly attempts at wit. It’s still a pretty small following but much more engaged.
So I’m keeping at it.
But some weeks, like this week, I can’t just chirp about my hapless life.
There has to be some acknowledgement that we just dropped some bombs and that we are not quite sure what is going to happen next.
Copyright© 2025 Anne Morse Hambrock All rights reserved.
Speaking Of Bombs…
When I published this in 2017 it was a lot more hypothetical.
I did spend the whole of the first trumpian presidency checking my phone every morning to see if he had blown anything up and/or started WW III.
As I mentioned back in issue #83 when I had a bit of a freak out.
By the end of the week I imagine we will have a better idea of where things are going next.
My heart goes out to everyone with family on active duty for whom the next steps taken by the commander in chief are extremely personal.
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From The Garden
Despite our ferocious heat wave some of my garden is happy.
The cilantro and oregano seem quite content while the chives are starting to peter out.
And these pink roses are holding their own as well.
Although I’m sure everything will be perkier when the heat dome breaks up and moves on….
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Keep The Messages And Comments Coming!
I appreciate the feedback and knowing how often I have struck a chord with your lives.
You always hit home for me, and this one especially. I like, even need, your mix of humor, pathos, empathy, and especially honesty. Thanks for keeping at it!
My oregano is taking over my garden here in the outskirts of Dallas. The thyme is fighting for space, and the chives gave up. I bought cilantro and basil seeds, but haven't ever gotten around to planting them -- or maybe I just couldn't get in the mood to do it.
Here the heat dome is a fact of life every summer, all summer long. Occasionally a thunder storm will break through, but mostly we have to do our own watering, and water here is getting scarce and expensive. My grandson recently moved to Michigan, and loves the climate there. Maybe I need to follow him!
Anne, it's time once again to take inspiration from "the hubs" AKA John; knowing the he has slogged through many a difficult period of time yet contunued to turn out a daily comic strip.