Caffeinated Politics

The angst I felt over the past few weeks as the UPS truck rumbled by our home and down the street is the reason I write this column tonight. It is a small thing in life. A truck with boxes, sometimes for me, is something I like to see. But in recent weeks, the truck has suddenly become symbolic of something much larger. For many years, the driver of the truck was Carlo, and then he was no longer behind the wheel, no longer coming up my front stoop with a delivery.

That is life, right?

People change routes. People take vacations. People get promoted, transferred, reshuffled in the UPS world.

His absence, however, became a tiny, persistent worry. My concern was based on where we are as a nation, and how we treat people with Brown skin.

While mowing today, the UPS truck stopped, and the side door opened. I walked over to the driver and said hello. A young, friendly face said Carlo was fine, working a new route. He understood my concerns and said he sees Carlo often and will convey that he was being asked about, given his absence.

And here’s the part that stings. I am so happy he is fine and just on a new route. But such concerns should never have been inflicted on this country. This is not normal. This is not the country we want. This is not the country we were taught about in the civics and history classes of our youth.

But it is the country we currently inhabit, a place where outlandish policies and rhetoric have made it impossible to assume that people of color simply go about their lives without threat or interference. One where the absence of a neighbor, a coworker, a delivery driver can trigger a quiet, fearful inventory of possibilities. One where the mind leaps to worst‑case scenarios not because we are dramatic, but because we are paying attention to what is happening in the Trump Administration.

The madness of Trump and the conservatives within the Republican Party, which has fallen into the supine position he demands of them, has created cruelty that has grown long enough to touch even the smallest corners of daily life. That sadness is worth a column.