After giving the matter some thought, I have decided that I’ve become unsuited to the low art of writing newspaper columns any longer. My deficiencies to participate in the current conversation are many. For one thing, I have never listened to a podcast. I prefer reading things, a more efficient way to gather and retain information.

For example, while I’ve heard of this Joe Rogan fellow, I’ve no good idea what he’s all about. Furthermore, I do not own, nor have I ever wanted, an iPhone. My sainted wife, maybe the least “tech savvy” person you could ever meet, spends a great deal of time struggling with hers, arguing constantly with that snippy bitch Siri.

I get by with a steam-powered flip phone which rings about twice a week — normally a call from somebody I’m not eager to talk to.

Gifted with the fashion sense of a cowherd, I have never wanted to become an “influencer” anyway. When I really want to dress up, I go with L.L. Bean.

Something else I learned courtesy of Kevin Drum’s invaluable website is that fewer than half of Republicans in an Axios/Ipsos poll say they trust the Centers for Disease Control for health information. Sixty-eight percent trust Trump.

Don’t tell me it’s not a cult.

So yes, the main reason I’m calling it quits as a newspaper columnist — this will be my last outing in this space — is Trump, the incompetent sociopath and career criminal who’s gotten himself elected president of the United States. I’m not afraid of him; my contempt is absolute. I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life thinking and writing about him.

That a near-majority thought him worthy of the presidency is too depressing to contemplate. One way or another, Trump will bring the American experiment to ruins. But nothing says I have to chronicle the catastrophe. I only get one life.

The happy misanthrope and Baltimore Sun columnist H.L. Mencken predicted all this more than a century ago. “On some great and glorious day,” Mencken wrote in 1920, “the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.”

Dudes, we’re there. Donald Trump isn’t merely ignorant; he exists in fear and loathing of anybody who’s not.

When chronicles are written about the decline and fall of the American republic, the opening chapters will no doubt describe the founding of Fox News and the cowardly inability of other news organizations to confront the reality of a Soviet-style propaganda network in their midst.

But they won’t be written by me, because I’ve reached the end of my rope. I do want to thank my editors in Kansas City and at newspapers large and small who have published my work over the years. Also, the many kind readers who have written inquiring about my health and commenting upon my work. Thanks as well for the brilliance and dedication of the medical professionals who have restored my health and congenital optimism over the past year. I do look forward to haranguing poor Diane and innocent civilians down at the dog park instead of churning out newspaper columns.

Take care, y’all.