by D.F. Savage
Recently, my parents absconded with me back to their house in rural NoVa. Hardly my favorite place to be. But, while I was there, I got stuck on the couch watching 60 Minutes. I admit I hate the show, and, in fact, all news they don’t air on Comedy Central. Still, Mum loves it, so I sat there noodling around on the aetherbutts while Lesley Stahl chivvied some senator for the lowdown on his Dark And Troubled Past, mostly blocking out the irritating speech patterns and awkward interview style, until we reached this segment:
For some reason I can’t fully articulate, I was near tears for most of this segment. It was a strange sensation. I don’t really do feelings. And it wasn’t grief for Mohamed Bouazizi, or his family’s loss.
I think it was triumph.