I was back flying on an aircraft in last night’s dream. This dream found me going home.
I was finishing my military service, ending my career, and going home. Wearing my dress blues, what we used to call the Class A service uniform, I didn’t have shoes and socks on. I’d taken them off for comfort.
It was a working flight. Loose ends were being tied up. The aircraft was memorable. Quite roomy, I had a small office on it, with a desk by a window and a few chairs. Happy and engaged, people came to me to learn how I’d done something. The flight was spent answering questions, showing people paperwork, and helping others understand.
When I arrived at my destination, I said good-byes to people, then went to put on my shoes and socks. I couldn’t find my socks! Shrugging it off, I put on my Capps high-gloss Oxfords and tied them tight. Queuing to leave the aircraft, I then found my socks. Well, I wasn’t going to put them on now. I was already in line. People might say something, I thought. Then, so what if they did? Technically, I was out of uniform. Technically, I didn’t care. Technically, if someone really wanted to make a stink that caused me to care, I could stop and put my socks on.
But I wasn’t worried. I didn’t care.
If you heard a sharp screeching sound earlier this week, it may have come from our area. The seasons hit the brakes on the weather. We had been warmly progressing toward summer. Nice weather, if you can get it. But then, some power shouted, “Hit the brakes! Reverse.” Temperatures scaled down the thermometer overnight, taking us into the mid thirties. Rain stormed in. Clouds unfurled, mocking the sun’s 5:45 AM arrival. While the sun is expected to hang until 8:30 PM, the temperatures won’t go much over fifty, they say. Enjoying the rain, though, and the snow in the mountains. We haven’t had enough of either. Give us more, please.
This is Thursday, May 20, 2021, in the valley where Ashland is homed, where I am homed. Our vaccination rate keeps climbing (knock on wood). We’ve climbed over fifty percent of peeps with at least one shot. Our local Family Y has set up a J&J one shot clinic, no appointment needed, all day when they’re open. As with most of these things, it’s not advertised well. All of my local friends and acquaintances are fully vaxxed, but I tell them so they can tell others. Pitter-patter, let’s get ‘er at ‘er, and get this thing done.
Reading about why people aren’t getting vaccinated brought Tracy Chapman’s 1995 song, “Give Me One Reason”, to mind. Vax hesitancy usually falls in four groups. Dominating it are those individuals who don’t believe that COVID-19 exists or have convinced themselves that it’s not that bad. A lot of them defiantly demand, “Give me one reason.” But, what’s the use? You don’t believe the news stories about survivors and deaths. What one reason can I give that’ll change your mind? I fear that if you’re one of those people, your mind won’t be changed until you’ve personally experienced COVID-19 hell.
For the music, I’ve selected a collaboration between Chapman and Eric Clapton recorded in 1999. It’s a different take, a little fatter on Chapman’s gem of a song. Stay positive, test negative, mask as necessary, and get the vax. Please. Here’s the music.