We're on the Titanic, but we think it's the Ark

 This song, by Brandy Clark and Adam Wright (featuring Clark's singing with Randy Newman), has been on my mind since rising this morning.

It was written in 2020 and is, alas, as pertinent as ever:

Chocolate and ice cream therapy, I should think.

I wonder why nobody don't like me

Steering clear of news from south of the border, I'm taking refuge in happiness and humour.

When elder daughter was less than a year old, I had a cassette tape of Harry Belafonte's 1959 appearances at Carnegie Hall, and fell madly in love with the quirky "Mama Look a Boo Boo".  

The only trouble was, when I was pushing my baby around in her stroller, doing errands downtown, I'd catch people giving me brief, alarmed sideway glances, and realise that I'd been singing it under my breath:  "Shut your mouth, go away..."

Last week, I stumbled across this 1965 gem from The Danny Kaye Show.  

Excuse me while I shut my mouth and go away.

A prayer to the better angels

 Doom-scrolling is a crummy thing to do before bedtime.

This was brought home, once again, to me about three weeks ago, when I made the mistake of checking my newsfeeds as I lay down to sleep, and stumbled across a veteran American meteorologist named John Morales breaking down as he analysed the approach of Hurricane Milton towards the Florida coastline.

You don't want to see a grown scientist cry.  It's really unsettling.

Last night, the Resident Fan Boy and I watched John Oliver wrap up the latest episode of Last Week Tonight with a passionate plea to American voters to keep that guy from getting into the White House again.  I was startled to see that his eyes were moist.

You don't want to see a British political satirist cry, either.

My American cousin and her son have spent the past few days phoning voters in the swing states.  I'm doing my bit by steering away from newsfeeds.  I'm rather grateful that Facebook blocks news items in and out of Canada.

The RFB and I will be watching Stephen Colbert tonight.  John Oliver will be a guest.  Are we crazy?  Well, the results are unlikely to be known soon, because, after more than eight years of this nonsense, and for reasons that overwhelm and depress me, the vote is likely to be close.   

Another Republican, standing on the edge of the abyss of an American civil war, made a plea to the "better angels of our nature".

I hope I can sleep tonight.