Floofvest (floofinition) – 1. Another word for floof jacket. 2. A caring animal who provides the emotional support to remain uplifted.
In use: “Were it not for her floofvest, Snoopy, and his warm, furry attentions, she would have been crazy within four days of self-isolation.”
Back with an old Kinks favorite. It popped into my head as I saw myself in the mirror as I began shaving.
Hello you, hello me, hello people we used to be
Isn’t it strange, we never change
We’ve been through it all yet we’re still the same
And I know it’s a miracle, we still go, and for all we know
We might still have a way to go
h/t to Genius.com
This 1978 song was about the changes the Kinks were going through so far as lineup, but tells in parallel about a man influenced by their music. Each, in a way, is going through a rock and roll fantasy, from coping with being musicians making the music, to fans listening to the music and taking solace.
In writing, we always talk about how characters change. Yet, how many times have we experienced people in our lives and realized that they haven’t changed, and probably never will?
As we’re going through this global pandemic, I wonder what changes are being wrought, and how many will last? We already see that some people aren’t changing, and won’t change.
We might still have a way to go before we know.
I had to venture out to a local store for a few things we deemed critical. As I shopped, maintaining a social distance (six feet) from others, their apparent (and maybe willful) ignorance annoyed me. The chorus of an old The Police (remember them?) song jumped into full-loop mode in my mental stream.
Don’t stand, don’t stand so
Don’t stand so close to me
Don’t stand, don’t stand so
Don’t stand so close to me
(You prob’ly knew that was comin’, dinja?)
Yes, those lyrics from “Don’t Stand So Close to Me” (why, it’s right there in the title) from 1980 are perfect for when you’re out and others are nearby in the age of coro. Beyond that, I enjoy this song about an older male teacher and his young female student. Nice beat.
Walkin’ round the southern hills of our town, thinking through writing, drifting through music and news, I considered songs that felt right for the time. They came up mostly from superficial connections. Like, “Baba O’Riley” (aka “Teenage Wasteland”) (1971) by the Who sprang into the music stream because I was up in the fields.
But then, the social distancing – hunker down – quarantine – self-isolation aspect whispered at me about songs about people knocking at the door. With those songs, I thought of Rod Stewart with “Legs” (“Who’s that knocking on the door? It’s gotta be quarter to four.”) Then came Men at Work with “Who Can It Be Now?”. Finally, my stream settled on an oldie (yes, even older than the cited songs).
Several performers have done “I Hear You Knockin'” but I went with the one I’m most familiar with through poprock radio, the one by Dave Edmunds, which was released in 1970. Other than the lyrics about hearing someone knocking at the door, and telling them they can’t come in, this blues song about being left alone has little to do with our coro sit. But still, it’s a good song.
The coronavirus is creeping into our area (Ashland, southern Oregon). A case was confirmed in the county a few days ago. Friends forwarded information to us early Friday morning. Medical professionals, they’re sharing stories from the hospitals.
“…saw 6 cases of bilateral pneumonia in folks 60-80. All had to be
admitted…have NEVER seen 6 cases in one shift.
Absolutely no way to test them for Covid-19. All negative for regular flu.
One woman 60 yr. on Methotrexate. Very sick. (Asante ER)”
Testing kits aren’t available. We’re over sixty years old. My wife suffers RA. She decided to self-isolate and skipped her exercise class at the Family Y. With the chain as it is, that requires me to self-isolate with her.
We’re people who generally stay stocked up on supplies. We have a freezer chest to support our approach, and a pantry. A case of bottled water is kept on hand. We don’t use bottled water; this is for emergencies.
Portions of our philosophy can be ascribed to our parents’ attitudes, but we also went through typhoons and lived in earthquake-prone areas, and now live in a wildfire area. We want to always be prepared. Besides those factors, I’m a guy that always thinks that you should never run out of staples. You know you use it, you see your use rate, buy more before it’s gone, if you have the means and it’s available. Just common sense to me.
An inventory was conducted. Have thirty-six rolls of toilet paper on hand. There are two of us. Don’t need more, thanks. Several boxes of tissues, and cough drops. Enough coffee for about six weeks (yeah, we’re Costco shoppers).
We have personal hygiene products, and no need for more. Cleaning supplies are aplenty. Cheese. Tortillas. Guacamole. Romaine lettuce, onion, carrots, and celery. We also have frozen pizzas with cauliflower crusts on hand from Costco. Frozen blueberries and mangoes. So far, so good.
Lots of pasta (could use some sauce), rice, soup, wine and beer (a few bottles of each), black beans, lentils, bread (several loaves frozen as reserves), peanut butter (three extra large jars on hand), potatoes, jelly, oatmeal, flour, brown sugar, cane sugar.
I ended up buying more fresh fruits and veggies (like potatoes, sweet potatoes, broccoli, asparagus, bananas, pears, spinach, grapes), doughnuts (comfort food) (just a small pack), more frozen fruits for smoothies (my wife makes them for us several times a week), cat food, and eggs. (Seems like we can never have enough cat food on hand.)
Entertainment shouldn’t be an issue. We have the ‘net, broadcast and streaming TV, books, and jigsaw puzzles. We also bought painting supplies for a new project, and have yard work to do.
I can go for walks for exercise, we agreed, as long as I don’t contact others and clean up when I arrive back home.
The stores weren’t bad. I was worried as the parking lot was full. Cars were parked anywhere that was possible. As a man finished putting everything in his car, I made a deal with him; I’ll take his cart back for him, since I required one, and I’ll take his parking space. Yeah, wiped down his cart handles.
Inside the store (local place, Shop n’ Kart) everything was well-stocked. Not many shoppers. I did my thing without issue. All check-out islands were open. A cashier was immediately available. She was using disinfectant on everything.
She told me that I’d just missed the rush. When she’d come into work for the eight AM shift, it’d been a madhouse. My timing was golden.
Back home, we settled down to read the news and talk about new developments.
Here we go, life in the time of COVID-19. Be safe out there.