It was Becca’s birthday or near enough. We had gotten into an Uber and were on our way to Japantown to eat at our favorite noodle house, our go-to spot for an occasion special enough for us to want to leave the house.

It was also Pride weekend. Saturday was the Dyke March and Sunday was the Pride Parade. Friday would have the least traffic, or so we thought. It turned out the Trans March was on Friday. Trans awareness is important, especially when you’re in an Uber trying to get from point A to point B.

It got all jammed up on Guerrero between 17th and 16th. It was a slog, made worse by people trying to turn left. By the time we got to Duboce, it had turned into gridlock. I first attributed this to Bay Area drivers being assholes. This was a reasonable assumption because I was a complete asshole every time I got behind the wheel of a car. It’s a good thing I don’t drive anymore.

Just shy of Market, there was someone, presumably from the Trans March, helping to direct traffic. We merged with stop-and-go traffic and eventually got across Market near the SF Mint. From there, there was some zigging and zagging and we eventually reached our destination. The trip took a little over an hour.

At this point, it might have been very tempting to go full Karen, railing against the marchers whose line of glitter and unicorns sliced the city in two and also our driver for not using the sidewalk as a passing lane. Fortunately, neither of us did.

One thing that irks me about self-styled progressives is how their support for a cause evaporates at the first sign of inconvenience. I remember this happening during the BART strike in 2013. There was no end to pissing and moaning by those whose commutes got upended. I had to take AC Transit across the bay one time, and yeah it sucked, but it was not the end of the world.

Now I don’t want to come off as a virtue signaler because I have selfish reasons for not being a dick. I like living in a place where most people don’t fuck with others based on sexuality, gender, or immigration status. Even though I am about as privileged as they come, I am an odd duck in my own way and can appreciate how tolerance breeds more tolerance.

I can also appreciate how it has not gotten that bad here yet. Protest in SF is easy peasy. All I had to do was write “TRUMP EATS POO” on a cardboard and be included in the head count of the No More Kings march.

Alas, I think it’s going to get a lot uglier if what is happening in Los Angeles is any indication. On a lesser level, it is already happening here. I have heard that ICE and their National Guard besties are provoking the public so Trump can invoke the Insurrection Act. I have no idea if that is true. We’ve given ICE expanded powers and a huge budget. How else do we expect them to behave? Then again, maybe I just sleep better believing that Donald Trump has no master plan.

What I do know is that the public is outgunned and will be on the losing end of an all-out war. Nobody wants a Kent State going on every week. So what can be done? Given my skill set, I might suggest weaponized mediocrity. ICE has a lot of logistical needs and outsources people to fill them. What if there is sufficient foot dragging and fuck ups to slow them down to a crawl? People could organize and call themselves the Passive Aggressive Liberation Front.

Of course, I’m not seriously suggesting this because I’m sure it’s against some bullshit law to do so. Nor would I do it myself. I’m retired and I just want to find a quiet place for Becca and I to live out our days. Somewhere woodsy and rustic, the kind of place where an action hero gets talked out of retirement so he can kick more ass.

There will be nobody coming for me though. I never did kick any ass so no one expects me to start now. We’ll just live simply but not too simply. We’ll need internet access and DoorDash delivery. When all is said and done, we still want things to be civilized.