The news and I are separating. It's been coming for a while now, but think I can make the break without tears.
I still occasionally think about the news; after all, we've been together on DK for a couple of years now and we've been engaged and then married since the reign of Walter Cronkite and Katharine Graham. But the adventure of fighting the bad guys is mired in a malodorous tar pit. This is no way to live.
I can leave my boots behind in the mud and escape, running barefoot through the fragrant grass of audiobooks and old TV sitcoms on cable.
The news is ceasing to arouse me, and excitement, even angry excitement, is a crucial element in any relationship. Victories turn sour as the old animosities return, pressing on my relationship with the news, squeezing dry my hope for a return to sanity. The president's speeches are a thread back to my marriage, which I will follow when I need a reminder that it wasn't all bad.
Ed and Rachel, and sometimes Keith, are my support system during the transition. Keith, Keith, I'm sick of your attacks on those guys whose names I don't even want to remember in order to type them here.
But just when I get ready to drop you, you come up with a Special Comment, complete with the Sir! that I love so much. Your For the love of God, Go! last night reminded me that my separation process won't succeed without you on my team.
I'll mute your foolishness and let Rachel help me keep the best parts of the relationship. Ed will fuel the good kind of excitement, another thread.
Good-bye to the news. My mind will be freed for other pursuits, my body will strengthen and cease to sag as I walk and swim, leaving the computer behind.
It's been a roller coaster ride. I'm getting off now. Good-bye, News.