The world is so full of bad news and worse news, and lies and ignorance, and simple wrong-headed thinking that sometimes it feels like a losing battle, just getting through the day without screaming. I keep my eyes closed a lot. I look away from things, even when I know I should pay attention. You can’t fight it if you can’t define it, right? But sometimes you have to look past it.

That’s how I’m able to get past the cynicism, greed and sanctimony of the current administration and still believe in the process that put them in office. And that, in turn, is why I totally ignore campaign ads and reactive speeches and bloated, intrusive coverage and still proudly cast a vote for the person I know is the best candidate. It’s even how I can bring myself to watch the Olympics from Beijing (even though I’m secretly hoping for Tommie Smith and John Carlos to raise their gloved fists on the medal stand, or whatever the 2008 equivalent would be).

When I watch the Little League World Series, I’m aware of the criticism of the TV coverage, and the overbearing parents and coaches, and the pressure on the kids. But what I see more often are supportive adults, and young athletes who rise to the occasion, and kids who are part of the wired generation and know how to be real even while having their lives taped. In fact, the cameras and the big, cheering crowds are a nice reward for them. And the tears? I love the tears, too. Sorry.

You don’t have to have blinders on to enjoy life in the modern age, but it helps to squint a bit and blur the sharp edges. I always assume the best of people until I know differently, and even then I try to find a way to give them the benefit of the doubt. It takes an awful lot to turn me in the other direction, and I’m perfectly happy to feel that way. (And none of this should be taken to mean that I won’t yell at the umpire when he blows a call.)