News organizations are struggling and straining to say something they haven't already said before... and failing. The wearing, grinding repetitiveness is like rug burn. We need testing. Trump calls off his appearances at the six o'clock news show only to change gears when he realizes he won't get any coverage at all.
The word "hero" wears thinner and thinner: People who work, work because they have to work, not for any heroism quotient. Glad to see the helium kicked out of the 'heroism' balloon.
My teacher's teacher once said of this life, "There is birth, there is death and in between there is enlightenment." Enlightenment is not so groovy when all the news is grey and smoldering and rug-burn-y. Everyone scrambles but there is no place to scramble to. The local penny-saver -- referred to as a "newspaper" hereabouts -- is filled with touching tales of those who cannot hold the hands of those headed for what my teacher's teacher called "the majority." Everyone stays at a distance from the next person and the distance, in the end, may be worse than the end that death seems to proffer.
Masks ... ick. Everyone wears a mask.
Various cities are trying to open up selectively -- gyms, salons, bowling alleys etc. -- and no one knows if it's the right move or not ... will there be a snapback to an ever-further increased uptick in illness?
I live on a diet composed largely of Ritz crackers and cottage cheese ... the only thing that holds a sustained taste-interest for me. It's not poverty ... it's just my taste budds acting persnickety.
Today's early world figures:
The word "hero" wears thinner and thinner: People who work, work because they have to work, not for any heroism quotient. Glad to see the helium kicked out of the 'heroism' balloon.
My teacher's teacher once said of this life, "There is birth, there is death and in between there is enlightenment." Enlightenment is not so groovy when all the news is grey and smoldering and rug-burn-y. Everyone scrambles but there is no place to scramble to. The local penny-saver -- referred to as a "newspaper" hereabouts -- is filled with touching tales of those who cannot hold the hands of those headed for what my teacher's teacher called "the majority." Everyone stays at a distance from the next person and the distance, in the end, may be worse than the end that death seems to proffer.
Masks ... ick. Everyone wears a mask.
Various cities are trying to open up selectively -- gyms, salons, bowling alleys etc. -- and no one knows if it's the right move or not ... will there be a snapback to an ever-further increased uptick in illness?
I live on a diet composed largely of Ritz crackers and cottage cheese ... the only thing that holds a sustained taste-interest for me. It's not poverty ... it's just my taste budds acting persnickety.
Today's early world figures:
Ritz Crackers and Cottage Cheese.
ReplyDeleteIn her later years my grandmother, known for her cooking when she was in her prime, started eating little else than Premium Saltines with a little coffee for dinner. Years earlier her neighbor, “Old Mrs. Morris” would consume little else than warm skim milk. For some reason these departures from “normal” appetites kinda made me sad.