Writing and the coronavirus mated, spurting today’s song into the stream.
I was writing about a queen. On break, I slipped into the backyard. Standing on the covered back patio, ginger cat wrapping around my calf like furry python, I listened to soft rain and admired pink and white blossoms on trees.
Lyrics arrive.
And I said mama, mama, mama, why am I so alone
I can’t go outside
I’m scared I might not make it home
I’m alive, I’m alive
But I’m sinking in
If there’s anyone at home at your place, darling
Why don’t you invite me in?
Don’t try to bleed me
I’ve been there before
And I deserve a little more
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
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.
Thinking of all the ways we’re being told to stay home or in semi-isolation and seclusion – shelter in place, hunker down, etc. – when the thoughts dredged up an old Joe Cocker song.
“Shelter Me” is from his album, Cocker (1986). That album is known more for “You Can Leave Your Hat On” (written by Randy Newman), which was used in several movies (bet you can think of at least one) (if you’re of a certain age or older). Meanwhile, I’d play the album and grew to like “Shelter Me”, even though it has that late eighties sound that sometimes was over-used (you’ll know what I mean, if you are of a certain age).
But the song’s opening lyrics work for the age of the coronavirus.
This ain’t no place for losers
Or the innocent of mind
It’s a full time job
For anyone, to stay alive
The streets have shallow boundaries
For the war that’s everyone
What a wasteland for
Broken dreams and hired guns
Shelter me, baby shelter me
When I’m sitting like I’m losing ground
Shelter me
Okay, they’re not perfect, but I can play off that sense of boundaries – stay six feet away from one another, watch what your touch (don’t touch your face), and wash your hands (properly) – and the wasteland of shopping areas, airports, highways, restaurants, etc, and how some might think we’re losing ground and standing still.
Or maybe I’ve gone for a metaphor too far. Possible.
Social distancing has been around for a while. Why, The Offspring were singing ’bout it way back in the last century, circa 1994. “Come Out and Play” was partially about keepin’ separated — there’s always a reason, it’s just the logic that’s different. As they noted in their lyrics, learn from your mistakes (I’m interpreting) or you’re gonna repeat them.
It goes down the same as the thousand before
No one’s getting smarter no one’s learning the score
Your never-ending spree of death and violence, and hate
Is gonna tie your own rope, tie your own rope, tie your own
Hey man you talkin’ back to me?
Take him out
You gotta keep ’em separated
We’re self-isolating, practicing social distancing. Yeah, this isn’t because I’ve sworn off people (“I’ve had it with you damn people!” he yelled in dramatic fashion, shaking a fist as he did), but because the gov’t. is following epidemiologists’ advice, trying to flatten the curve by slowing COVID-19’s spread.
Thinking about going for a walk through the neighboring streets and hills, having coffee (in my house), or doing yard work, the Clash’s punk-rock classic, the rockin’, “Should I Stay or Should I Go” 1982. I imagine many people have pondered this the last few days – should I stay or go to the store, etc.
It struck me as a humorous choice, and a rockin’ one.
Hope you’re all doing well out there in netlandia.
I thought today, being Wednesday in the era of the coronavirus pandemic, would be a good day for something lighter and sillier. While several songs leaped into mind, one leaped higher (and was accompanied by strange noises).
Here’s “Rock Lobster” by the B-52’s, 1978. Feel free to dance in the safety of your own place, maintaining a safe distance from others.
Read a WSJ/NBC poll results. Posted today, the poll was conducted during 11 – 13 March 2019. It was about the coronavirus. The surprising results weren’t about support for the POTUS (not much changed there). No, more surprising was that most polled, particularly Republicans, didn’t think COVID-19 would have a major impact on their lives.
The poll was conducted as the NBA was shuttering the season for a while. The POTUS mad a speech that Wednesday and the stock exchanges showed a brief rebound. Since then…well, the news speaks for itself about what’s been shut down. It’s easier to list what isn’t shut down or impacted by the coronavirus. I guess it isn’t a surprise, then, as the POTUS has previously denounced COVID-19 as a hoax, or overblown as fake news by the media. Fox News happily supported those points for a while.
I then read another commentary on Italy’s situation (over twenty-five thousand cases now, and twenty-one hundred deaths). Then came an article that the U.S. (with over four thousand cases today) is where Italy was two weeks ago.
Finally, I read about Patient 31. She’s a woman in South Korea who carried on life as usual, attending church, eating at a lunch buffet, and working through a fever, a carrier who didn’t go and get tested, a woman now identified with a spike in South Korea’s coronavirus cases, a woman now considered a super-carrier.
Then I thought back to all the Americans who plan to continue business as usual, just as Patient 31 did.
From that came an old Bob Seger melody, “American Storm” (1986). Seger’s song was about a different epidemic, the increasing use of cocaine. But all the warning signs were ignored, and it spread. Feels like another song, about another storm, is due.
Well, from sometime yesterday, out walking in the hills, admiring the sunset’s effects on the northern mountains, came some lines from the Styx song, “The Best of Times” (1981).
The headlines read, “These are the worst of times”
I do believe it’s true
I feel so helpless like a boat against the tide
I wish the summer winds could bring back paradise
Yes, the helplessness and frustration that seems to permeate so much of life sometimes can make it seem like the worse of times. It’s not for me, of course, but stress, and that sense, comes from that lack of control and the inability to steer things, to be able to take action and change the course before we wreck.
I’m sure most of us have experienced it at least once in a lifetime, where we said, “I know where this is going, and you’re not going to like it.” Then it happens, and all the misery you predicted comes to pass and others ask, “Who could have seen this was going to happen?”
Well, hell, many of us do see these things, but we’re ignored. We don’t get used to that; it’s just frustrating.
Then it all passes, and the courses that you thought should have been taken are, and things go great for a while.
No, I’m not a master prognosticator. I just color my memories with the best of times.
It was three in the morning, and it was raining, and I was addressing something to do with cats. In that situation, everyone will naturally recall the words to “3AM” by Matchbox Twenty (1997).
I was telling the cat (being an irritant by blocking the pet door) (and looking smug about it) that he was a major irritation, and then told another cat, “It’s three AM and it’s raining, and it’s cold. Are you sure that you want to go out there?” Yes, yes, he had an urgent matter. I let him out, went to bed, tried to recover my dreams, but instead looped “3AM” in my head.
[Verse 2]
She’s got a little bit of something, God, it’s better than nothing
And in her color portrait world she believes that she’s got it all
She swears that the moon don’t hang quite as high as it used to
[Chorus]
And she says, “Baby, when it’s three AM I must be lonely”
Well, heaven she says, “Baby, well, I can’t help
But be scared of it all sometimes
And the rain’s gonna wash away, I believe this”
Michael Seidel, writer 