“Have a good day sir”…“Good morning sir”…“Good afternoon sir”…I’m suspicious of a conspiracy of late, a conspiracy bent on attempting to make me feel old. These greetings, salutations, and general utterances of good tiding, with the added “sir”, have seemed to increase in the frequency of which they are aimed at me throughout the average day.

I believe the conspiracy was first set in motion by a few students on campus, most likely in hopes of kindness when it came time for me to dole out grades, but it seems to be spreading to the wider world of my general comings-and-goings.

I suppose that the politeness of others should be accepted as such, and simply enjoyed without excessive suspicion. Especially given the impolite arc that is portrayed so often on social media and media in general.

Speaking of “impolite”, I watched my first presidential debate last week. I blame it on all the “sir” stuff. I am officially an adult…though none the wiser.

Politics doesn’t really blow my hair back, never has, even when I had hair. Mullets and rat tails tend to be apolitical, although, if a presidential candidate were to sport such, they would have my vote.

I’ve always found the whole political party thing interesting to occasionally observe from afar. Very far afar. We humans are very social, tribal, team orientated animals who have been evolutionarily programed to view the “other team” with varying shades of suspicion, contempt, and outright dislike.

Sort of like the old high school rivalry between the Panthers of Burke Central and the Eskimo’s of Bowbells. “Those people” think they are so good, “those people” are basket of pompous jerks, “those people” deserve utter destruction on the athletic field.

Then school and sports co-ops occur, and “those people” become teammates, “those people” are sitting in the same dugout with you, cheering for the same things as you, even cheering for you. All through the simple magic of putting on the same jersey, and working towards the same goals, our view of “those people” is forever altered.

The mudslinging between political teams is nothing new of course, Plato wrote about it over 2,000 years ago, and some find enjoyment in observing and being a part of the whole spectacle. Some revel in engaging in meme wars on social media, bent on making the goofy rich mascot of the other team look goofier than the goofy rich mascot of their team. Goofy indeed.

With all the technology we have, would it be possible to have a political-free social media outlet where we can simply enjoy keeping up with the lives of our families and friends? You know…the stuff that really matters. Sure, maintaining our democracy requires an engaged public, but everything surrounding that engagement doesn’t live and die within the nuthouse of Goofy and the gang.

There are no Republicans or Democrats in foxholes, only Americans. Americans helping Americans, people helping people, humans being humane. Panthers and Eskimos uniting.

The silly season is upon us, but like the intestinal impact of a tainted gas station corndog…this too shall pass. Stay well my friends.