No more Sunday drives to King of Prussia to visit my brother, Bob. I’m not sure if he was infected by a staff member, or another patient. In Alzheimer wards, people touch each other, yell in their faces, and pace, waiting for their loved one to take them home.
Now, Sundays are more routine. Church is a 30-minute TV time slot. Where mass used to end with ‘Go in peace,’ now it’s over when Joe Namath appears on screen to sell me life insurance.
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Since retiring five years ago, I spend my days writing, promoting, or trying to improve my craft. The occasional weekend book signing let me hope that success wasn’t too far away, if I just persisted.
Future physical signings seem almost impossible, now. Who would come within six feet of the strange man hawking his goods. I certainly wouldn’t. But I keep writing and hoping for a better day. But how can I find a diversion to make this bearable? Ahah!
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The buffalos stampede, tromping over aces, antelope, and mountain lions. I raise my online wager, knowing it’s only pretend money. This higher bet, combined with staying at a game longer, seems to pay off over time. Boy, I can’t wait to try this for real in A.C.
Of course, I’ll be six feet apart from my closest addict, so I can only signal success with a woohoo. But that will probably make people back away, and I’d risk an assault of disinfectant from the nearest gendarme.
I’ll need to be careful not to touch anything there, a trip to the redemption kiosk requiring a cunning guerilla assault. And what if I have to pee? Now there’s a plunge into the heart of darkness. And forget the buffet. I’d be safer with the rats at the back dumpster.
Before, I would fill up at the buffet, lose my money slowly but surely, and saunter back to my car, poorer, happier, and with no fear of a virus working its way into my lungs.
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I take walks when the weather is nice, or the guilt of constant snacking drives me outside on even cloudy days. Before, you would need to tackle someone, beat them senseless, and lift their wallet, to warrant a police response. Now, all it takes is stepping into a walker’s path, and offering them a high-five. Prepare to be tasered.
Walkers switch to the other side of the street when I approach. I do the same if I see them first. What used to be antisocial, is now social responsibility. Yet, we nod to each other and smile. We’re in this together, plus the mutual distrust of unmasked hacking joggers allows us to focus on the same villain.
Lawns are cut, yards are sculpted, and they say the ozone layer is getting back to normal. There’s less pollution. Dolphins have been seen in the Venice canal, and wildlife roams the coastline. No need to hide from the humans.
---
So maybe there’s a silver lining in this, though the cost of human life, especially loved ones, seems too much a price to pay. I don’t think this is a Deity’s plan to get man to wise up. He/she’s just letting things occur naturally, hoping that we’ll appreciate what we still have, and how it’s not too late to make the world better.
As I review these musings, another case of man’s inhumanity to man crops up, diverting us from disaster A to disaster B. People rise in anger and disbelief, while risking the spread of the virus as a result.
Somehow, we as a species, survive. We’ll come out of this all better, I believe. We’ll look back and wonder that in a time of national need, people in positions of trust still commit violence. We’ll survive this. What choice do we have?
Now, Sundays are more routine. Church is a 30-minute TV time slot. Where mass used to end with ‘Go in peace,’ now it’s over when Joe Namath appears on screen to sell me life insurance.
---
Since retiring five years ago, I spend my days writing, promoting, or trying to improve my craft. The occasional weekend book signing let me hope that success wasn’t too far away, if I just persisted.
Future physical signings seem almost impossible, now. Who would come within six feet of the strange man hawking his goods. I certainly wouldn’t. But I keep writing and hoping for a better day. But how can I find a diversion to make this bearable? Ahah!
---
The buffalos stampede, tromping over aces, antelope, and mountain lions. I raise my online wager, knowing it’s only pretend money. This higher bet, combined with staying at a game longer, seems to pay off over time. Boy, I can’t wait to try this for real in A.C.
Of course, I’ll be six feet apart from my closest addict, so I can only signal success with a woohoo. But that will probably make people back away, and I’d risk an assault of disinfectant from the nearest gendarme.
I’ll need to be careful not to touch anything there, a trip to the redemption kiosk requiring a cunning guerilla assault. And what if I have to pee? Now there’s a plunge into the heart of darkness. And forget the buffet. I’d be safer with the rats at the back dumpster.
Before, I would fill up at the buffet, lose my money slowly but surely, and saunter back to my car, poorer, happier, and with no fear of a virus working its way into my lungs.
---
I take walks when the weather is nice, or the guilt of constant snacking drives me outside on even cloudy days. Before, you would need to tackle someone, beat them senseless, and lift their wallet, to warrant a police response. Now, all it takes is stepping into a walker’s path, and offering them a high-five. Prepare to be tasered.
Walkers switch to the other side of the street when I approach. I do the same if I see them first. What used to be antisocial, is now social responsibility. Yet, we nod to each other and smile. We’re in this together, plus the mutual distrust of unmasked hacking joggers allows us to focus on the same villain.
Lawns are cut, yards are sculpted, and they say the ozone layer is getting back to normal. There’s less pollution. Dolphins have been seen in the Venice canal, and wildlife roams the coastline. No need to hide from the humans.
---
So maybe there’s a silver lining in this, though the cost of human life, especially loved ones, seems too much a price to pay. I don’t think this is a Deity’s plan to get man to wise up. He/she’s just letting things occur naturally, hoping that we’ll appreciate what we still have, and how it’s not too late to make the world better.
As I review these musings, another case of man’s inhumanity to man crops up, diverting us from disaster A to disaster B. People rise in anger and disbelief, while risking the spread of the virus as a result.
Somehow, we as a species, survive. We’ll come out of this all better, I believe. We’ll look back and wonder that in a time of national need, people in positions of trust still commit violence. We’ll survive this. What choice do we have?