Sweatpants, Diet Dew, a fire, a furry dog at my feet. Life ain’t bad, life ain’t bad generally. Going to keep this simple, on this simple evening. This is Monday Morning Commute, the column where we share what we’re up to during a particular week. The new movie we want to see. A comic book dropping on Wednesday we can’t wait to read. Et cetera et cetera et cetera. Going to keep this simple, on this simple evening.

I’ll go first, you’ll follow in the comments section. Fair? Fair. Fair!

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This is Weekend Open Bar. The weekly invitation to come and hang out, share what you’re doing the next couple of days. What you’re eating, drinking, smoking, playing, reading, et cetera. Et cetera.

It’s week two of the Empire’s descent into Trumplandia. I’ve been struggling to make sense of how to behave in the face of such gravity.  The best I can think of, is to simply continue persisting. To continue doing things like typing up the Weekend Open Bar.

As a hero of mine opines, the most “daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.” So so I persist, here, at Weekend Open Bar. Week after week, inviting likeminded folks to spend time together. Week after week, offering likeminded folks a space-oasis in which we can pass the time in good nature together.

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