Tag: 2020

His Rules

He wears the same damn pants every day. They’re loose, so he doesn’t need to watch his weight.

He’s added pockets to his pants for the remotes so they’ll never be lost (not that he goes far – frig, microwave, shitter, couch). He wears a utility belt with Tums, cough drops, and other crap that he might need that he doesn’t want to get up to get. A small frig resides besides the couch for essential soda and beer.

Clocks and calendars have been removed; who needs time? Sleeping on the couch makes the whole damn thing easier. He doesn’t plan to bathe or shave until this whole damn thing is over, his protest against government overreach.

Still, his mouth is hurting, so he’s thinking, maybe he’ll break down and brush his teeth.

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Happy Pretend Everything Really Is Okay Day

Hadn’t been reaching much news today (cause it felt icky on my tongue and was searing my senses) so I didn’t know until just now that today is Pretend-Everything-Really-Is-Okay Day.

Wow. As I age, I discover that I frequently don’t know WTF is going on (and even more frequently don’t care), so I’m not so surprised that you could knock me out with a feather for not knowing today is PERIOD. I don’t have happy memories of PERIOD (see, I just found out about it), even though it’s been around for several thousands years, pre-dating just about every holiday that exists.

I read that celebrating PERIOD means doing things that you would normally do, even if something is going on that might disturb you. You’re supposed to watch television, read, surf the net, clean house, shower, shit, shave, and eat, etc., as though everything is like baked Alaska.

What’d you know? That’s exactly how I celebrated PERIOD.

So Happy PERIOD to you, full stop. Hope you had a damn fine holiday.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Reading the news today, Sonny and Cher’s big 1967 hit, “The Beat Goes On”, sprang into the mental music stream. I’m sure we all know why that song deserves to be today’s theme music.

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More

More cases, more deaths, more jokes about drinking wine.

More demands about re-opening businesses, and then everything will be fine.

More stories about valor and the sacrifices made.

More stories about lying, misinformation, and the debts to be paid.

Some things will not change, don’t seem they ever will,

But every time we go through something like, someone pays the bill.

It’s not usually the rich, nor the pols running the gov,

It’s the workers and the nurses and the people that we love.

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Friday’s Theme Music

Showered. Shaved. Teeth were brushed. Headed out to make breakfast and thought, yeah, feel like steppin’ out. Which, you know, can be done, but with risk. How much risk? Some; we’re trying to flatten the curve, conserve resources, and buy time until we have a COVID-19 vaccine or we’ve developed herd immunity. Both are expected to require some time to pass. We hope, by social distancing and isolation, we’ll keep the illness and death down in the meantime.

While walking into the kitchen after those thoughts, Joe Jackson’s 1982 song, “Steppin’ Out”, began its fast-paced melodic beat in my mind. That opening track, with its humming vibrancy, captures the anticipation of going out at night to meet people and have fun.

Maybe on another day. Not today, but it’s a good song to help pass the time until then.

Cheers

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The Surviving Dream

I was out with others. We were in endless stores but outside, in rolling, emerald green hills bathed in sunshine. I was happy but I was aware that it was a dire situation. Everyone was aware. What measures did we need to take? How could we survive?

Then, boom, all were dead.

Then I was getting back up. I was aware it was a dire situation. What measures did we need to take? Okay, I’d just died, so what we’d done didn’t work. We needed to do something else. Then, boom, something was coming, and we all died.

I was back after a second, in the same situation, trying to figure out what to do, then it all happened again.

I spoke with others. How can we stop this cycle? Others were certain that it couldn’t be stopped, they saw no way that it could. But a man in uniform stepped forward.

He was dressed like a WWII Nazi officer, grey uniform and hat, black epaulets, knee-high shiny black boots, in a movie. “Actually, it can be stopped,” he said. “You just need the right place to hide and the perfect timing.”

Before I could question him more, he said, “Ah, here it comes again.”

I saw something coming, or more correctly, looking down and across the stores on the grassy hills, I saw its effects on the people and world. I warned others that it was coming as I took cover with a cat. I died.

Born again after that, I joked with the cat, “Well, that didn’t work. Did you die, too?” The cat didn’t answer. Then, knowing the cycle was short, I began hunting for the next place to hide. This time, I seemed more aware of the threat coming toward me. It rippled through the people and fields like a light breeze blowing through a rows of wheat. Watching it come up, I timed my move and stepped aside.

I’m not certain if I died or not. There wasn’t a moment of awareness of dying, but I was again considering the situation, the German officer beside me. “No, it’s not that easy,” he said in a jocular voice.

I was dubious of him. “I think you’re trying to distract me. Who are you? Why are you even here?” I had the sense that he was there for misdirection. He was there to stop me from seeing and thinking.

An event was coming again. Picking up my cat, I turned my back and hunkered down under a table.

The dream ended.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Such a simple mind have I. Watching the sunset pulling into the day, my mind punched the buttons for a 1984 Don Henley song, “Sunset Grill”.

Let’s go down to the Sunset Grill
We can watch the working girls go by
Watch the “basket people” walk around and mumble
And stare out at the auburn sky
There’s an old man there from the Old World
To him, it’s all the same
Calls all his customers by name

h/t to Google.com

I was feeling nostalgic. We’d hit 75 degrees F, and summer was strolling through, teasing us with looks and smells. Also, it was Wednesday, when my buddies and I meet to chat about science and the world and quaff a few pints.

It would’ve been a perfect day for the Sunset Grill.

 

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

A friend related her tale of venturing out to a store. Her recounting triggered jungle songs. So here we are – “Welcome to the Jungle” (GNR, 1987), “Jungle Boogie” (Kool and the Gang, 1973, here on “Soul Train”), and “Run Through the Jungle” (CCR, 1970). I think each song speaks for its niche with its musical style, but each convey the jungle with slight variations. Behind them all, though, is the sense that the civilized human scene is a jungle of wild menace. Kind of like that out there, although I haven’t heard stories of violence. I guess it’s not as much of a jungle as it was on, say, black Friday.

Here they are, in chronological order.

Any jungle songs on your mind?

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Starts

We weren’t able to get out to buy starts. There was a run just when shelter in place was announced; the initial supply was gone, and there weren’t any more to be had. But…looking around the house, seeds purchased years ago were found. Would they be any good? We didn’t know.

My wife decided to try them. We didn’t have starter soil or the proper pots. She made do. Arugula was planted (in the pot on the left) and butterleaf lettuce was put in the big pot on the other end. The middle pots were planted with basil. They were place in a dining room window where sun is plentiful from dawn to dusk.

We’re pleased with the progress so far. With the weather warming (into the seventies tomorrow), she plans to put some arugula out tomorrow. Meanwhile, we have other carrot, onion, and radish seeds.

 

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