I am excited about the Democratic ticket, excited in a way that, a few weeks ago, I did not think could be possible. Kamala Harris and Tim Walz are smart and interesting and funny and personable. Like me, they are 1964 babies, and thus they understand the power of snark and irony, as my generation does so well, but they also understand joy . . . and this is such a massive, massive relief.

I've been thinking that age 60 may be the perfect time to run a good presidential campaign. We've got life experience, but we've also got energy. And we've got a vivid relationship with the generations on either side of us. Many of us still have living parents; many of us are the parents of young-adult children. This creates the possibility of a broad network of knowledge and care and trust. It's an interesting moment, even if we're not running for president.

I'm not going to burden you with a politicking post: I'm pretty sure that all of my eight or so readers will be voting the same way I do in November, so you don't need any advice from me. But all of us have endured some gruesome times together, and the cloud of gloom has been hard to break through--sometimes impossible to break through. Reports of last night's raucous, happy Harris-Walz rally in Philadelphia dispelled some of my gloom, and that's no small thing in this era of dread.