I looked around when I woke up Wednesday morning and, sure as God made tart green apples, life was still pretty dang good.
My daughter Danni’s marriage was still going strong after four days, Bob Knight was still basking in the glow of being a First Citizen, and last I checked, those lovable losers — the Cubbies — were still world champions.
All of this remained in place although The Donald, that Wile E. Coyote of a candidate, had won the presidential election.
Many of my liberal friends might differ with me when I say life was still pretty dang good. Having to utter the words “president-elect Trump” was, ah, just a little off-putting to them. All that chatter about moving to Canada, becoming a monk or hunkering down in the closet for four years was heartfelt but goofy. Life goes on. As it should.