My life in a parallel universe is going pretty well. Of course, I don’t see my compatriots, the other folks who are wearing masks and hunkering down because, you know, they are hunkering down. I do see the people bunched up around the tavern door and the teenagers gathering up with their gym bags at the lake front. I see pictures of folks having dinner inside restaurants and welcoming their kids home to celebrate grandpa’s birthday. I look at these things and wonder what planet am I orbiting?
I made a pot of chicken soup today and dropped it off to a couple of loved ones. Of course, I worried, as I always do, about whether the soup was as good as it could be, and then I remembered, that wasn’t really the point.
The pullover I ordered came today and it looks like a black cat costume. It is very furry. Like a rec room rug from the 70’s.It’s important to branch out, fashion-wise, don’t you think? Especially during a pandemic when the risk of overdone monochromatic fleece is so great. It’s furry but I think it will jazz up my look at the dog park.
The guys on sports talk radio this morning debated about whether they wanted to be 25 again or be the age they are. The old man and I looked at each other and said, “the age we are.” I don’t have an explanation for this. It seems like everyone would want to be young again. I don’t. I figure I had my turn. And I think I wrung a lot out of those years – time to move on.
I want to take a box of chocolates and a flower to every voter who has stood in line for hours to vote. I love each one with all my heart. The long lines are dreadful and the most visible sign of voter suppression there is, but the people in line? they’re the true heart of America.