My miniature greyhound is confused and proceeded to ask me a few questions about the Coronavirus. Naturally, our discussions devolved into the obligatory verbose abyss.
Rex: What's up with the rush on toilet paper?
Me: I don't know, son...people get weird when things they can't control happen. It's a built-in human reaction.
Rex: I'm human, but let me show you how I manage this problem.
Me: Okay.
Rex: Open the backdoor.
Me: *opens backdoor*
Rex: *drops a deuce in the back yard* Also Rex: *runs back in the house* Also Rex: *drags butt across our carpet*
Me: Stop it, you nasty little bastard!
Rex: Daddy, I'm trying to save the world and you're cursing me.
Rex: Daddy, what is 'social distancing?'
Me: We have to maintain a one to two meter distance between two people to keep from getting one another sick.
Rex: Scratch my back. Yeah, yeah...right there...you know what Rexy likes.
Rex: I don't have hands so I am exempt from hand washing.
Me: Shut up.
Rex: You've made sure I don't bring home any sexually transmitted diseases because I don't have testicles.
Me: Dude, I've already told you I had nothing to do with that.
Rex: Whatever, Daddy.
Rex: Will this Corona-thing interfere with my wet food supply?
Me: So far, no, but I have no idea what the future may hold.
Rex: Give me "futures" address. I'll bite his penis.
Me: Dude, what is wrong with you?
Rex: A man has to eat!
Rex: Can we eat T-bone if food supplies get low?
Me: I can't believe you would consider eating your brother!
Rex: We ain't blood kin!
Me: Your backstraps are looking tasty.
Rex: Don't make me get the .380 and cap yo' ass.
Me: Boy, watch your mouth!
Wednesday, March 25, 2020
Monday, March 23, 2020
Take a Deep Breath--Away From People
Yeah, I get it...COVID-19 is here. Wash your hands, shave your face (guys and gals), shave your arms (Ibid), and keep the virus at bay. Folks, this is not the first time our country has battled an unseen enemy, but it is the first time we have seen it in our lifetime.
What can you do to help? Stay away from people. Wash your hands and arms frequently. Wear gloves to cut down on cross-contamination. Don't be a douche-hoarder. Yeah, that's important. Our elders and medical brothers/sisters need our support, not our ebay/Amazon has-beens.
Check on your neighbors--this is critical. Be leaders, not sheep like most I know. The flock is heavy today, but it struggles to find the cream that rises to the top. Don't be the assberry that hangs behind hoping for a solid wipe and promising prayer.
I love you all. I don't want to attend your funeral. I don't want to contribute to your chosen charitable organization because you are on your deathbed. Don't put me in that position. No...I prefer to see your political posts that are contrary to mine, your manbun that I laugh at, and your skinny jeans that I wished I fit into.
Guys, I want you to be here because I hate your point of view, and because this world needs your perspective and mine.
Much love to you all.
What can you do to help? Stay away from people. Wash your hands and arms frequently. Wear gloves to cut down on cross-contamination. Don't be a douche-hoarder. Yeah, that's important. Our elders and medical brothers/sisters need our support, not our ebay/Amazon has-beens.
Check on your neighbors--this is critical. Be leaders, not sheep like most I know. The flock is heavy today, but it struggles to find the cream that rises to the top. Don't be the assberry that hangs behind hoping for a solid wipe and promising prayer.
I love you all. I don't want to attend your funeral. I don't want to contribute to your chosen charitable organization because you are on your deathbed. Don't put me in that position. No...I prefer to see your political posts that are contrary to mine, your manbun that I laugh at, and your skinny jeans that I wished I fit into.
Guys, I want you to be here because I hate your point of view, and because this world needs your perspective and mine.
Much love to you all.
Monday, March 16, 2020
Forget Coronavirus For Just a Minute
As the virus gained momentum in the United States, and was no longer an Asian or European phenomenon, I was on a series of airplanes traveling up the east coast with stops in Charlotte, NC, Baltimore, MD, Philadelphia, PA, and Boston, MA (oh, and I started my journey in Atlanta, GA). Each of these airports are major hubs, and home to a vast number of international flights. To say that travelers buttholes were puckered tighter than a baby's mouth after sucking a lemon would be an understatement. The Coronavirus seems to have us all rather distraught at the moment!
People are nervous, and for good reason. We are being bombarded with growing death rates without valid testing and recovery data. Most understand that the virus is more hype than dangerous, but there is still a significant amount of concern to be given to this twenty-first century plague. Before I move on, allow me to say this: I have never seen passengers so courteous, aware, and cognizant of their surroundings. At no time in all my years of air travel have I seen airports and airplanes so clean and sanitary. It is truly a shame it took a global pandemic to get us to this point, but as the saying goes, "It is what it is."
The reason for this entry, however, is one that has remained with me the past thirty-six hours. On my return flight from Boston to Atlanta, I had a layover in Philadelphia. I noticed an older woman whose head was held high; her face a haughty facade. I notice these things about people and make mental notes of them as I move about public places.
As luck would have it, the lady sat across the aisle from me once we boarded our flight from Philly to Atlanta. She quickly ordered a Bloody Mary (it was bloody 10:30 AM and I was astounded!) and drank it down before boarding group six was seated. She and I were seated in first class (upgrades were available for forty dollars, and I could not pass that deal up), and were in boarding group one. American Airlines has made remarkable progress in the expediency of seating airline passengers--thank you, Southwest Airlines for the model!
I was battling a cold and cough and attempting, rather feebly, to mask my cough as the hypersensitivity of winter sickness ran amuck through the plane. If you dared cough or sneeze, the consensus was you were infected with Covid-19, do not pass go, do not collect $200.00. I am currently on the mend if you are wondering. :)
About forty-five minutes into the flight, and three or four Bloody Mary's later, I noticed the haughty woman crying. I watched tears roll down her face as she stared blankly out her window, the bright morning sky reflecting on her shiny face. Not wanting to touch her, or anyone since I was sick, I leaned closer to her and asked if she was alright. The next few minutes rocked me to my core.
"Yes, I'm fine," she lied. She then followed with, "No, I'm not."
"Well, whatever is bothering you, I hope it turns out okay," I responded.
The tears really began flowing after our exchange, and I noticed her hand as it shook the empty cup that formerly held her drink. She spun the ice clockwise then counter-clockwise, her mind lost in thought. After a few minutes she looked at me and said, "I bought a one-way ticket to Atlanta. My daughter has cancer, and I'm trying to get all these tears out of me before I see her. I've never dealt with anything like this before."
Whew! I thought back to my original impression of her and realized how wrong I was. This poor lady was trying to maintain her composure in a chaotic environment.
"Where are you from," I inquired?
"Central Jersey," she replied.
For a few minutes, this glorious lady went on to tell me that her daughter and her daughter's husband had moved to Atlanta less than a year earlier. It was then that she was diagnosed with cancer in her adenoid and tongue. She showed me a picture of her smiling daughter lying in her hospital bed, a smile on her face, but beneath her chin a cut in her neck from her right ear to just past the midway point of her throat.
"How old is your daughter," I asked?
"Thirty-one," she said.
"I'm so sorry," I told her. "That's way too young for these kind of problems."
The lady wiped another tear away from her cheek, as she told me about how strong and wilful her daughter is. She was obviously a distraught mom going to a new city to provide something only a mom can give.
She and I talked for the remainder of the flight, and I helped her to baggage claim and to the location where her ride would find her. I let her know that she and her daughter would be in my prayers. It dawned on me after we parted that I never asked her name, nor she mine. But what she did do was thank me for letting her cry on my shoulder.
For that I am forever grateful.
Be good to one another, y'all.
~h
People are nervous, and for good reason. We are being bombarded with growing death rates without valid testing and recovery data. Most understand that the virus is more hype than dangerous, but there is still a significant amount of concern to be given to this twenty-first century plague. Before I move on, allow me to say this: I have never seen passengers so courteous, aware, and cognizant of their surroundings. At no time in all my years of air travel have I seen airports and airplanes so clean and sanitary. It is truly a shame it took a global pandemic to get us to this point, but as the saying goes, "It is what it is."
The reason for this entry, however, is one that has remained with me the past thirty-six hours. On my return flight from Boston to Atlanta, I had a layover in Philadelphia. I noticed an older woman whose head was held high; her face a haughty facade. I notice these things about people and make mental notes of them as I move about public places.
As luck would have it, the lady sat across the aisle from me once we boarded our flight from Philly to Atlanta. She quickly ordered a Bloody Mary (it was bloody 10:30 AM and I was astounded!) and drank it down before boarding group six was seated. She and I were seated in first class (upgrades were available for forty dollars, and I could not pass that deal up), and were in boarding group one. American Airlines has made remarkable progress in the expediency of seating airline passengers--thank you, Southwest Airlines for the model!
I was battling a cold and cough and attempting, rather feebly, to mask my cough as the hypersensitivity of winter sickness ran amuck through the plane. If you dared cough or sneeze, the consensus was you were infected with Covid-19, do not pass go, do not collect $200.00. I am currently on the mend if you are wondering. :)
About forty-five minutes into the flight, and three or four Bloody Mary's later, I noticed the haughty woman crying. I watched tears roll down her face as she stared blankly out her window, the bright morning sky reflecting on her shiny face. Not wanting to touch her, or anyone since I was sick, I leaned closer to her and asked if she was alright. The next few minutes rocked me to my core.
"Yes, I'm fine," she lied. She then followed with, "No, I'm not."
"Well, whatever is bothering you, I hope it turns out okay," I responded.
The tears really began flowing after our exchange, and I noticed her hand as it shook the empty cup that formerly held her drink. She spun the ice clockwise then counter-clockwise, her mind lost in thought. After a few minutes she looked at me and said, "I bought a one-way ticket to Atlanta. My daughter has cancer, and I'm trying to get all these tears out of me before I see her. I've never dealt with anything like this before."
Whew! I thought back to my original impression of her and realized how wrong I was. This poor lady was trying to maintain her composure in a chaotic environment.
"Where are you from," I inquired?
"Central Jersey," she replied.
For a few minutes, this glorious lady went on to tell me that her daughter and her daughter's husband had moved to Atlanta less than a year earlier. It was then that she was diagnosed with cancer in her adenoid and tongue. She showed me a picture of her smiling daughter lying in her hospital bed, a smile on her face, but beneath her chin a cut in her neck from her right ear to just past the midway point of her throat.
"How old is your daughter," I asked?
"Thirty-one," she said.
"I'm so sorry," I told her. "That's way too young for these kind of problems."
The lady wiped another tear away from her cheek, as she told me about how strong and wilful her daughter is. She was obviously a distraught mom going to a new city to provide something only a mom can give.
She and I talked for the remainder of the flight, and I helped her to baggage claim and to the location where her ride would find her. I let her know that she and her daughter would be in my prayers. It dawned on me after we parted that I never asked her name, nor she mine. But what she did do was thank me for letting her cry on my shoulder.
For that I am forever grateful.
Be good to one another, y'all.
~h
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)