While everyone debates whether and how to make them gender neutral out of respect to transgendered people, an even more insidious issue goes completely unreported.

The scourge that is open-door bathrooms in high traffic public buildings! Exhibit A, right inside the door of the Briggs YMCA in Olympia, WA. Exhibit B, at Martin Village Theater in Lacey, WA. These are open door bathrooms where you hear everything in the immediate vicinity and you have to choose the most distant commode or risk being seen doing your bidness.

I understand not wanting homeless people camping out, and security issues and all, but how on earth am I supposed to relax my bladder enough when I FEEL like I’m participating in your damn conversation?! And when I’m worried you might be trying to catch a peak.

When will sound dampening, closed doors, and some modicum of privacy return to public bathrooms? When will the madness stop?

Not just the point of the bestest holiday of all. I give thanks for my health. The world’s greatest physical therapist, Pamela Johnson, correctly diagnosed my chronic calf pain early in the calendar year and prescribed a series of exercises designed to strengthen my hips. Now that my calves correctly offload all the pounding to my new and improved hips, I extended my 1,000 miles/year streak to 17 or 18 on November 12th. My utter lack of speed has never been more apparent, but thanks to newfound “proximal stability,” the endurance is back, and I feel great*.

Speaking of running, a scientific poll conducted on this morning’s run revealed greater sadness surrounding Florence’s death than Fidel’s. Check this if you’re curious about the probable path of Cuba’s economy.

I give thanks for my wife’s and daughters’ health and that my in-laws live about 990 miles closer than a few months ago.

I give thanks for a pantry full of food and drink, the ever changing beauty of Budd Inlet, flannel sheets, and the comforter my in-laws just tossed my way. “My” comforter because the Good Wife has her own convoluted system of layers.

I give thanks for friends who run even if it’s cold, dark, and raining.

I give thanks for the labradude’s continuing playfulness despite nearing the end of his life.

I give thanks that UCLA basketball is rolling.

I give thanks that somehow I installed the new wiper blades correctly.

I give thanks that the daughters will be home in three weeks.

I give thanks for all the readers of the humble blog.

*Steph Curry also lacked proximal stability during his first few years in the Association. And missed a fair number of games as a result of chronic ankle pain. So, look for marked improvements to my playing time and three point shooting percentage in 2017.

Should have seen this coming, but was lulled asleep by Dan Dan the Transpo Man, and Nate Silver, and other number crunchers who kept telling me everything was going to be okay. I forgot the history, how incredibly rare it is for either party to win three elections in a row. National politics is about pendulum swings. Always has been, always will be. And the President-elect (damn, that was painful to type) vanquished 16 challengers in the primary because he understood how to use the media so much better than them. The refreshing fact that a woman made the finals didn’t compensate for the fact that she represented the status quo when the electorate was clamoring for change.

And now America’s fixation with celebrity has reached it’s vertex. And now my Middle Eastern grad student doesn’t know if her work permit will be renewed, whether she’ll be able to finish her degree, and whether her and her family will be okay. And now my daughters have to wait a little longer to elect a female President*.

And now health care will become more convoluted. And now tariffs on imports will mean the undereducated and underemployed white males who voted for the President-elect will have to pay a lot more for consumer products. And now because of the tough talk traditional alliances will be tested and foreign policy challenges will mount. And now terrorism will continue unabated despite the tough talk.

And now I remind myself of the stoic concept “trichotomy of control”, there are some things over which I have no control, some over which I have some control, and some over which I have complete control.” I will focus on the “some” and especially the “complete”. That’s why I got up this morning and ran in the dark. And that’s why I’m blogging again after too long of a break. And that’s why I’ll eat a healthy dinner tonight and cuddle with the sick labradude.

And I’ll do my small part as a writer, educator, and citizen to hasten the pendulum away from the simplistic, nationalist “America First” mania upon which it’s turned.

* my prediction, within 12 years