When I saw the photos of T&%$p’s followers descending on Hartford last weekend, my reaction was to simultaneously laugh and cringe.


First, the cringing: there is a continued refusal of them to man up and mask up.

How is there such deep cognitive dissonance?! How are there people refusing to acknowledge that the pandemic has gotten worse? This isn’t early March 2020. It’s November. We’ve had months to learn this, and the science community has been consistent about these things since the spring: wear a mask, maintain physical distance from others, wash hands with soap and water, and keep your unwashed hands away from your eyes, nose, and mouth.

When I see photos of unmasked extremists ignoring physical distancing at social gatherings, my mind goes to a dark place. If and when those folks get sick and die from COVID-19, will they admit as much, or will family members do what we see typically happen when someone dies from an overdose or suicide — sweep reality under the rug? Will they have cryptic, vague obituaries alluding to a “short illness”? I cringe at how many preventable deaths might be coming along in a few weeks.

I can’t work out the cognitive dissonance, how anyone can push a “pro-life” agenda while disregarding the lives of those who made it out of the uterus, whether by spreading a virus or by trying to strip Americans of health care, or in hundreds of other ways.

How does one reconcile a regime arming police to the teeth in a country where hospitals have struggled with a PPE shortage during a pandemic?

The laughter: seeing T%$^p supporters wearing bulletproof vests, as if that is the only way they are willing to enter a Democrat-led city. So yes, I am laughing at this and the utter cowardice of those who won’t, without being surrounded by cops, go into urban areas.

While people were wrapping themselves in bulletproof vests (but not masks!) and screaming at fellow Americans in a different part of my neighborhood this weekend, I was ambling down various city streets — from New Britain Avenue to Prospect Avenue — soaking up the glorious weather, admiring folks’ yard decorations and signs, and not participating in the ugliness. That’s when I took the photos that you see in this post, wondering at the time how you could look at any of these scenes and think that the city is somehow the enemy.

That’s where I laugh to myself. Are they afraid of the guy walking his sweater-wearing chihuahua? The woman who is stripping off layers while jogging in a too-warm November?

How do people have room in their bodies to harbor such hatred toward strangers?

The laughter is short-lived. I think about how many firearms they are bringing into my neighborhood when they cluster around the Capitol. How dare they show up as guests in my city and behave so poorly?! I think about how many of these guns end up involved in violence, both here in my neighborhood and in their own homes. How many of these weapons wind up used in domestic disputes? Where is the greatness in that?

I don’t know how to feel inclined toward unity with people who don’t care if my neighbors live or die, and that’s putting it charitably.

When will they understand that there is enough for all of us, and we can pull each other up instead of crushing others for survival?