Love in the Time of Coronavirus

I see that our ‘crack’ U.S. Government, after its leader, President Rump, proclaimed coronavirus to be a hoax, has reversed itself and declared a national emergency.  A task force, under the superlative direction of cardboard cutout Vice President Mike Dense, gives us reassurance that everything is under control provided we take safety precautions through abstinence and prayer.

coronavirus image

Nonetheless, despite consulting the world’s foremost experts on diseases and epidemics – people like Laura Ingraham, Tucker Carlson and Rush Windbag – the government’s task force has a glaring omission in getting citizens through this crisis:

What do I do when run out of toilet paper?

Well, I am here to help.

First, that usual question – paper or plastic?  My own preference is paper.  Plastic has a number of issues, not the least of which is slipperiness.  Besides, aren’t you environmentally concerned and using paper or your own bags to cart items from the grocery store?

So, paper.  And where do we get unused paper?  Most of us have stopped reading the daily newspaper and few of us use writing paper.  And, truth be told, your environmental concerns do not rise to the level of replacing plastic bags.  On the other hand, we tend to order online and get delivery by – cardboard paper!  Yes, I know that it does not have the silky-smooth quality of your store-bought ultra-smooth Charmin’ or the plushness of Quilted Northern but – hey – we’re in a crisis here so we have to accept these challenges.

And what happens when we have neither plastic nor paper?  Nature, in the form of trees, provides us with an abundance of leaves.  I would seek out large leafed hardwoods – Sycamore or Red/White Oak – over small leafed varieties or softwoods.  And I really don’t want to tell you about the experience one poor fellow had when reduced to using pine needles.

The best things in life are free

We have wants and desires that are far beyond our reach – that 100 foot (30 meter) yacht, that palace on the Riviera or winning the lottery.

None of these are going to happen but we keep wishing.

Yet, we overlook the simple but wonderful pleasures of everyday life:

the best things

  • The sound of gentle rain in the early morning
  • Watching a sunset on a mild fall evening
  • The distant sound of a train whistle from the open window of your room
  • Being awakened by a gentle caress on your cheek…

 

                … unless you happen to be in jail at the time.

The End

The End

Although I am not at death’s door, there are those moments when I can see the door from here.  To prepare for the Day of Atonement, I have a few requests for my all my loved ones (family and friends).

First, don’t say “He passed.”  I died.  Saying “He passed” sounds like I had a bad urinary experience or an unhappy encounter with cannibals.

“Two cannibalistic ship captains passed each other in the night.”

Second, don’t say “He is in a better place.”  Repeated requests to all Abrahamic religions – Judaism, Christianity, and Islam – have produced diddly squat so there is no corroboration for this assertion.  You can say that I am in good company.

“You go to Heaven for the scenery and hell for the company.” –Mark Twain

I may have better luck with Buddhists because a Zen Buddhist pizza guy once said he would make me one with everything.

Third, please do not have responses say anything about resting in peace.  I have no such intention.  For eternity, I plan to pester, bother, aggravate and, in general, annoy anyone who ever incurred my wrath.

“Agitate, agitate, agitate.” –Frederick Douglass

If you wish to delay the inevitable arrival of death’s door at the end, you can listen to the interminable The End by The Doors: