Vin Brocki: Blogging

While the United States debates democracy and deploys bombers with Israel against Iran, and while U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement storms neighborhoods that sound like the ones we grew up in, I am working on an IPad trying to finish this blog post and set of limericks before bedtime.

The absurdity is almost theatrical.

Missiles arc across deserts that gave birth to scripture while pundits on cable news panels glow with their sense of urgency and importance. History is in motion and I am recording original music and videos about fresh air and growing older.

There is something deeply comic about aging in America during another season of global brinkmanship. In youth, geopolitics felt cinematic. We watched grainy footage and imagined ourselves principled, fearless, maybe even heroic. Now the stakes feel both higher and more exhausting. The racism and hatred seem frightening. I don’t fantasize about storming barricades, but I take offense when my community is under attack. I imagine other folks in other parts of the world feel the same.

And so what do I do?

I tune a drum. I adjust a microphone. Then I hit the record button. I try to create something new and interesting without sounding like a greeting card from the pharmacy, or music from my youth. It’s a fine line between creativity and callousness.

Art doesn’t solve geopolitical problems. It doesn’t dismantle extremism. It won’t rewrite policy or silence hatred. But it does something quieter and, in its own way, subversive: it preserves our sense of humanity. It says: despite everything, you are still allowed to see beauty in nature, to laugh at a well-placed punchline, to love the person reading in the next room.

At this age, I understand that I am not going to personally steady the arc of history. But I can steady a tempo. I can shape a phrase. I can refuse to let the worst voices be the only soundtrack.

Therein lies the reconciliation.

The world may remain theatrical — dramatic, combustible, addicted to greed and spectacle. But inside this small room, with an iPad glow and a half-finished limerick, I can choose harmony over hysteria.

Not because I don’t care.

But because I do.

Vin Brocki, Erie, PA, USA

March 9, 2026