This is a huge decision, one requiring considerable thought. I’m at a crossroads, one with two directions from which to choose, going down one road or the other.

Despair and dismay are nearly overwhelming at the moment, driving me to this point.

Tens of millions of Americans are embracing a clear fraud named Donald Trump as our next president.

And so much more. …

It’s a rare trip from The Hovel, my little condo, to the nearest Publix, located less than a mile away, that I don’t see angry maniacs speeding, tailgating and weaving in and out of traffic.

There’s no need to get into terrorism and mass shootings and a local politician presenting himself in commercials as a combination of Mother Theresa and Wyatt Earp, a straight-shooting and pure savior who will stop every evil in the world. If only we’ll send him to congress.

Sure, pal. His name is Francis Rooney and I derisively refer to him as St. Francis of Naples.

What’s to be done?                                                                                                              

Here are my options:

  1. Become a hermit.
  2. Become a recluse.

Now they seem to be the same thing. In the interest of making this blog worth your time and money (oh, that’s right, it’s free!) I grabbed my handy copy of “Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary.”

There are subtle differences between hermits and recluses.

Hermit, according to the dictionary: “One that retires from society and lives in solitude, esp. for religious reasons.”

Recluse, according to the same source: “Marked by withdrawal from society.”

So that narrows it down for me to recluse. I’m not a religious person and don’t attend church.

Plus when I Googled famous hermits the names that popped up were historical religious leaders, folks I had never heard about before. Well, except for St. Paul.

But recluse?

Now you’re talking. I’m all over this recluse thing. I’m looking into buying a Recluse Kit and joining a Recluse Club. Well, I guess that would disqualify me from becoming a recluse.

Anyhow, the list of famous recluses is long, which beggars the question: How can one be a recluse and famous? When I Googled for famous recluses the names of writers, actors, songwriters, and the greatest chess player of all time popped up.

The list includes J. D. Salinger, Brian Wilson, Greta Garbo, Bobby Fischer and Harper Lee.

Now if the life of a recluse is good enough for them it should work for me.

But I still have other issues. If I hunker down in The Hovel how will I get my groceries and cheap red wine? And how will I earn money? I need to get out to do my freelance writing work.

And I have to get out to vote because I haven’t signed up for an absentee ballot.

And you can be sure I won’t vote for Trump or St. Francis of Naples.

Earlier today I posted this comment on Facebook: “Only 100 days until the election. I haven’t decided if I’m going to become a recluse or hermit to escape all the electioneering and campaign commercials.”

Kathy had the perfect comment: “Become?”

Touche.