Michelle Obama is Just Fine.

It's you and me that are the issue. We can fix this!

My friend died a few weeks ago, and this was part of the eulogy I wrote for her.

She hated Trump. And she would fall for every ridiculous thing put on the internet about him because she so wanted him gone. She wanted people to have dignity and the simple things in life that everyone deserves to have: a decent meal, a roof over their head, education for their children, and the earned right to call themselves an American.

Here is the thing.

Her posts, her rage at their behavior fed the fires and kept their headlines exactly where they wanted them to be. We tried to stop her. She couldn’t. It was the only outlet she had for her pain.

So I get it.

I understand the urge. I understand the anger. I understand the exhaustion.

But attention is currency now. And outrage is fuel.

In the early 80s, women were finally allowed into the New York City Fire Department.

Yes, the fire department was filled with Irish male legacy, testosterone, courage, and a culture earned the hard way as men raced into burning buildings, saving damsels in distress and small children without fear or regard for their own lives. And they paid for this bravery with their lives. More often than they should have.

But women wanted to fight too.

So we fought, and we got in.

There was a story in the newspaper about how men harassed the women firefighters, and one particular story has stayed with me all these years. A tired, frustrated woman firefighter went over to the bulletin board, where there was a Playboy photograph or some such nonsense hanging. She reached up to take it down. Another firefighter took a knife and pinned her hand to the bulletin board.

I can’t remember what happened to him, but I do remember she had to go on leave because her hand no longer worked properly.

This is not a new scenario. We have been fighting it for years, but not by posting outrage. By fighting in ways that make change.

So, my question to you, fellow fighters of our beloved America that’s been interrupted, is this.

How many times have you clicked on, shared, or written about the outrageous comment about Michelle Obama yelled from the bloody stage on Sunday, shattering the dignity of the White House? How many times?

I promise you, Michelle Obama is fine. Just fine.

In fact, she and her husband and family will be opening the Obama Center in Chicago tomorrow! And, here is what they are posting and wish you were too. This was on Obama’s Instagram account last night. Isn’t this what we should be sharing?

OK, let’s think this through.

What do you think the Trump cohort wants you to write about?

What was said about Michelle Obama on Sunday?

Or celebrating and sharing what is happening at the library and its mission and what will be inside it? Maybe even sending a small contribution this week to support that mission?

What do you think will bother them more?

What do you think will make you feel better?

The serotonin rush of negative diversionary explosions created by this administration, which I understand because it actually works in their favor, is not helping our interrupted nation.

What would help our interrupted nation is if we stop falling for it every single fucking time.

And I mean every single time.

Do yourself a favor.

Action today?

Post something about the Obama Library opening (tomorrow!) and how excited you are. Tell journalists you hope they give it as much time and front-page access as they give negative news.

And maybe send a girl you know who’s graduating from high school or college a subscription to Ms. Magazine.

Ms. magazine has been doing amazing work for decades, making sure that if someone who doesn’t have Michelle Obama’s circle of protection and collaboration is harassed by the old boys’ network, including, more and more, the new boys coming up behind them, she will at least have some tools in her toolbox.

Do you want to fight them?

Do you want to fight them in their boxing ring or ours?

I vote for ours. Post that which will stop their freight train and clear the tracks for ours. I beg you. (By the way, I clicked too many times too.)