Thanks everyone for your good wishes. I'm pulling out of this funk slowly. This afternoon, a few belts of hooch helped. I had to do something. It's not a path to recovered health I'd recommend to anyone — nor will I continue it — but today, it helped. Once I forced myself to struggle out of this godawful ailment and read some news — a shooting in Annapolis, unholy Supreme Court decisions and, above all, Trump now seems to believe he's a legitimate president of the United States — I screamed out like Hans Solo in Star Wars VI, recovering from carbonite sickness: "Luke? A Jedi? I'm out of it for a little while and everbody gets delusions of grandeur."

(p.s.: My ignorance has been corrected by an astute reader. It's Han, not Hans, Solo. My apology to George Lucas.)