Pundit’s Disease Pandemic

The poet wrote, “What a gift it would be to see ourselves as others see us.” Well Chris looked into his mirror and apparently saw me! Nailed me, yes guilty as hell, and sick as the devil with Pundit’s Disease.

I confess: My name is Jonathan, and I am a pundit. I can no longer live in denial, but am not yet in recovery.

I may have been born with this tendency—a genetic predisposition, and then had it triggered by growing up in a very political and liberal household. My parents discussed politics, current events and literature. They even paused long enough to listen appreciatively (or at least to pretend to be listening and appreciative) to my brother and me. This clearly emboldened us—and me in particular.

Then I fell into bad company in high school. How many sad tales and sorry excuses begin with this sentence. I joined the forensic team and did debate, extemporaneous speaking and impromptu competitions. Tragically, I excelled, fooled judges and won competitions.

From there it was all downhill to that hitting bottom experience of waking up with the delusion that our great American Constitution and Bill of Rights included the specific right for everyone to know my every thought and opinion.

Dear Gentle Readers, Co-Conspirators and Enablers: Forgive me my trespasses as I prepare to trespass again.