2017 was a tough year, y'all

An oldie but a goodie - one of my fave memes of all time

I have a few assignments for various publications due the first week of January, and I'm slogging through the motions to get on top of them before Christmas week, when I'll be out of town. 

Instead, all I can do is scroll through Twitter and despair. That's pretty much been my year. In the run up to the 2016 election, I was cautious and quiet about my liberal leanings, worried about my "brand" in a white male dominated industry in a conservative geographic area. Now, I'm not super loud and proud about it, but that's because I'm tired and afraid and feeling beat down about the political process and priorities of this government. 

For several weeks after the election I couldn't bring myself to go out to beer or other industry events, fearful that I would run into a Trump voter and be unable to punch him or her in the face. Or just start crying, which is my annoying default when I'm angry. I'm still pretty much a hermit unless absolutely necessary - socialization is tough for me now, and caring about beer, the beer wars, beer nerds nerding, or hazy IPAs is really difficult. It seems trivial in the larger scope of things. Focusing on such things, for me, reeks of privilege in the face of all that is happening in the country and the world. There's also so much dick-swinging that I absolutely cannot deal.

When I lived up north, I went to grad school so I could rise in the ranks of higher education to influence policy and contribute to what I thought was a significant part of American society - not just in students attending, but research that benefits everyone and large campuses that employ and provide for communities. When I moved down here, I spent three years working with a non-profit that organized neighborhoods to help the voiceless be heard in the corporatization of post-Katrina New Orleans. 

When I first started writing about beer, I felt like I was helping brewers, drinkers, and bars get the word out and provide news and information about events. Four years later, there's a much better mechanism in place for that, and my usefulness has come to an end. Now I pitch, I interview, I write. I promote myself half-heartedly. My first year of freelance writing was one big hustle to learn, meet people, and promote my services. Now the hustle is beyond my energy level. WAY beyond.

I need something to believe in. I need more than the same players and snipes in the beer and food worlds of New Orleans. I don't know what my metric of success is anymore. 

And scrolling though social media reading about the dumpster fire of government isn't helping, but I can't stay away. I probably spend 3-4 hours on social media and reading articles linked there. I used to do this to stay on top of the local beer/food scene, but now I do it to stay on top of whatever awful thing is happening today.

I've been infected with doubt, hate, anger, and hopelessness, and I don't know how to justify my career or interests anymore. 

Well! This turned into a real pity party, didn't it. I thought writing it out would help me clarify my murky thoughts, and it did, a little. It hasn't helped me find a solution yet, but maybe that'll come later. 

Happy holidays? Yes. I hope everyone finds love and warmth with friends and family and beer and food. Soon the days will get longer and maybe even better.