More Random Thoughts
Random thoughts. The Internet says random thoughts mean something, and that science agrees. Who knew?
My first random thought involves recycling. I keep two old-fashioned galvanized steel trash cans outside, near my kitchen door. The city picks up recycling every other Monday, so I carried that bin out to the alley. Lo, when I went to my city-owned recycle bin, someone had tossed in an Apple computer box. Very shapely. Stylish even, but it filled my container.
I solved the problem, but here is my question: Can you dump recycling in any blue bin? Or, just the one by your house? An inquiring mind needs a good answer.
Next up: living my life. I saw this post on an old friend’s FB page:
I never thought I would see a time when so many people were so afraid of dying that they were willing to stop living.
My friend leans right. Pretty far, it seems, for his post was reposting from a Trump for President 2020 page.
Do I fear death? Honestly, not so much. My head looks battle scarred, and my car knows the way, directly, to my dermatologist general in the Melanoma Wars. So, I am pretty chill and I know I have more yesterdays than tomorrows. (My dermatologist totally rocks, by the way, and for now I only worry about keeping bandages stuck to my skull.)
What does scare me? Covid-19. (By the way, all caps or not? Pray, tell, if you know the answer.) The symptoms associated with a bad case leave me more than a wee bit freaked out. Nothing I’d wish on my worst enemies … or POTUS or VPOTUS, who ought to look at the Presidential Succession Act of 1947 before they tempt the Gods. Do you think they can imagine President Nancy Pelosi?
Fear aside, I am mystified, truly, by the notion that people make life about access to the Cheesecake Factory, getting their hair colored, or having the kid at Costco tell them they can’t enter without a mask. Sad, really, if that’s what people call living.
I appreciate the need for many people to get back to work. And, for sure, some people talk about that issue. But the people I know who say Reopen Now focus, mostly, on what they want and need.
I am fortunate beyond any measure, and I am living every day. Joyfully! In different ways, for sure, but the fact that I’m not sitting on a bar stool at Trident twice a week says nothing about whether I am living.
Next up, among random thoughts: my closet. I have not been to the wash cleaner – a Cate Rubin phrase from decades ago to distinguish between the dry cleaner and the car wash – in a couple of months or more. Still, I have clean dress shirts. Suits, too. Will I ever wear them again? Will they fit? (No, not too tight. The other, and you can all hate me, but I’m getting in 20k+ steps a day.)
What seemed important in days of yore matters not so much right now. I grieve for restaurateurs and the bartenders who made my life so pleasurable for so long. But that world will likely be different for a very long time. And the people I know in that sector have about them brainpower and a service ethic which will serve them well.
Travel. Leigh made me promise that will come, soon, with due consideration for safety.
Those clothes? Meh. I picked up a half dozen used vintage Tommy Bahama camp shirts, for I suspect what I have in the way of suits and shirts represents about 300% more than I will need for the rest of time.
Of course, my focus reflects the world in which I reside: a universe defined by privilege and power. This nightmare – if you have a stronger word, share it, but words work poorly here – has shown our flaws as the wealthiest, most powerful nation in the world. Our time has arrived as a nation, to shape up … or ride out our time as the most recent fallen empire.
Those of us who know Mikey is the kid with his spoon in the cereal bowl – yes, us, the one’s who need to stay home, wear masks, and take our temperatures – should feel blessed. We avoided wars, a flu that killed lots of people, a Depression, and more. Yes, we ended up with a Grifter-in-Chief but his inane being tells us we can do better. We will, thanks to those we fetched up, and those who will follow them.
Apologies for the somber tone at the end. Focus on my recycle bin dilemma, pretty please!
Be well, stay safe, and if Rubin & Bernstein or Southern Arizona Fiduciary Services can make life a little easier for you, contact us at 520-623-3038, or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.