They say time flies when you’re having fun — clearly, if the past month or two is/are any indicator, it also flies when you’re deluged with a wild news cycle (which often isn’t fun, even if it might get the adrenaline pumping).
Or maybe it just flies more noticeably when you’re in your mid-50s, as I am. As such, I’m old enough to remember the near miss when Ronald Reagan was shot in March 1981. At the time, I didn’t fully appreciate just how near a miss it was — in part because initial reports didn’t fully convey the severity of the situation, but mostly because I was only 12 years old. I did, however, understand the deep wound left by the assassination of John F. Kennedy — even though that was before my time, I recall seeing news reports and reading articles about it and the sort of unspoken, sad reverence with which my parents and other adults I knew treated the…
