Hey, it’s been a while!
But whoa, whoa, dear reader, not so fast there with the physical affection. Just move back, thank you very much. I have missed you, and I do sincerely love you, but let’s just agree that we’ll hold off on the hugs and kisses for a while okay?
We have to be careful at the moment. This coronavirus is certainly making a mess of things.
When we last convened here, we were all in the midst of holiday hustle and bustle. Some of you were even bemoaning the fact that you weren’t having a white Christmas. Oh, the calamity! What a difference a handful of weeks make, eh? I bet you’d love to have that as your main complaint again.
Instead, we’re all collectively swabbing down surfaces, wearing masks, and keeping six feet from our fellow humans. Handshakes are now frowned upon. We are going to have to develop new expressions of affection until they come up with a vaccine for this thing. So for the first time ever, it’s now socially acceptable to elbow someone.
I for one am not wearing a mask. According to my wife, it’s bad enough that I wear a sleeping mask to bed each night. She claims it’s not very romantic. Oh, pish-tosh. One can still kiss while wearing a sleeping mask, but just try kissing someone wearing one of those facial masks that are all the rage at the moment. Let us know how you fare; I bet it’d be like kissing Darth Vader.
To think how smug I was back in the fall after I got my flu shot. They were forecasting for a “normal” flu season, and I’m sure I calculated that my odds would be good in avoiding anything calamitous. Of course, around that same time the S&P 500 was riding high, and my retirement savings balance had a Warren Buffett-like glow of invincibility. All of this goes to show that it just doesn’t pay to be an optimist.
Though we think we’re free of any viruses here at Snakes in the Grass, we still find ourselves affected by some of the paranoia currently gripping this land of ours.
Tomorrow, for instance, we had plans to get on a plane and travel to Scottsdale to visit my snowbird sister. It was to be Gorgeous’ first visit there, and we had some fun activities planned: two concerts, and stops at the Desert Botanical Garden and the Phoenix Musical Instruments Museum. However, out of an abundance of caution, we decided last evening to cancel the trip.
Gorgeous takes a medication called Humira, which can lower the immune system. We did look for guidance and reassurance from government officials about how safe it might move about the land, but only heard platitudes. When I read that the president referred to the still-illusive virus test kits as “beautiful,” I knew we were pretty much on our own for now. I know who I’d like to elbow at the moment.
So we’re staying put; it’s the path of least resistance. Time for some to wash their hands and just start painting.
Our gym has signs up at the entrance and throughout the facility asking people to thoroughly wipe down the machines after they use one. Hopefully those who never bother to do so (you know who you are) will actually do that now.
Of course, not everyone is getting the message about public interactions. I went to buy bagels this morning and watched as the person who rang me up touched her nose three times, thus giving a whole new meaning to bagel and a schmear. Honestly, if we all get through this somehow, it’ll be based on chance and luck.
So careful out there. Wash those hands for 20 seconds (if you’re unsure about this, Larry David shows you how! — <click here>), cough into your upper arm, and stop looking at your 401(k) and IRA balances. For now, you’ll need to postpone that romantic trip to Italy that you’ve been planning in your head. Romance is relative anyway. Which is something I think Gorgeous completely understands.
Until next time…