Day 171, self quarantine:
Tuesday, September 1, 2020
September, huh.
Yikes, if you, like Gary and me started quarantining in March, that means you have basically stayed indoors during the months of March, April, May, June, July, August and September.
Psychologically, that’s pretty intense.
I mean, there’s not many other months left.
And two of them contain huge family holidays.
How ironic that Gary hadn’t used his camera in five years when he rediscovered it during quarantine. There were some old photos still on it.
The year Eric moved to Asheville in 2014 and we did Christmas via Internet.
There’s pics of Eric unwrapping presents and holding them up on the computer screen.
Oh, how I cried that Christmas and swore I would never allow that to happen again.
Now I’m like, oh well, I guess we’re doing Thanksgiving and Christmas by Zoom this year, thanks to Donald the snake oil salesman and his new “expert,” a FOX NEWS RADIOLOGIST...RIGHT I SAID RADIOLOGIST NOT INFECTIOUS DISEASE SPECIALIST...named Dr. Scott Atlas...yes, his name is Dr. Atlas.
Tuesday, September 1, 2020
September, huh.
Yikes, if you, like Gary and me started quarantining in March, that means you have basically stayed indoors during the months of March, April, May, June, July, August and September.
Psychologically, that’s pretty intense.
I mean, there’s not many other months left.
And two of them contain huge family holidays.
How ironic that Gary hadn’t used his camera in five years when he rediscovered it during quarantine. There were some old photos still on it.
The year Eric moved to Asheville in 2014 and we did Christmas via Internet.
There’s pics of Eric unwrapping presents and holding them up on the computer screen.
Oh, how I cried that Christmas and swore I would never allow that to happen again.
Now I’m like, oh well, I guess we’re doing Thanksgiving and Christmas by Zoom this year, thanks to Donald the snake oil salesman and his new “expert,” a FOX NEWS RADIOLOGIST...RIGHT I SAID RADIOLOGIST NOT INFECTIOUS DISEASE SPECIALIST...named Dr. Scott Atlas...yes, his name is Dr. Atlas.
“Atlas, who does not have a background in infectious diseases or epidemiology, has expanded his influence inside the White House by advocating policies that appeal to Trump’s desire to move past the pandemic.”
Dr. Atlas believes in herd immunity.
Herd immunity has been proven not to work with a virus such as this.
In fact, it’s expected at least two million more of us will die in the coming months.
Yeah, that’s right. At least two million of us.
Particularly those over sixty, those with other medical conditions, poor people and people of color, but no worries, rich young white people will die, too.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/trump-coronavirus-scott-atlas-herd-immunity/2020/08/30/925e68fe-e93b-11ea-970a-64c73a1c2392_story.html
I now expect to be quarantined through 2021.
I now expect to be quarantined through 2021.
I have no words for the people who laughed at my panic and told me my life wouldn’t change after November 8, 2016...that one man could never make a difference in my “privileged” life.
Actually, I do have words.
Go fuck yourselves hard.
Okay, I feel better now.
Anyway, since we’re all gonna die, we keep looking for the bright spots here at Casa Slick.
So yesterday, when we drove to Home Depot and had the radio on in the car, I said to Gary, “Wouldn’t it be cool if Eric’s song came on WXPN and I could take a pic of the dashboard screen with his name?”
Gary, to his credit, didn’t call me a dork.
In fact, when we were back home and listening to the radio later in the afternoon and Eric’s song did come on, Gary grabbed his car keys.
“C’mon, Rob! Let’s go!”
“Wut? Where are we going?”
I was stretched out on the sofa in pajamas and bare feet, checking out these really cool Frida Kahlo benches on my phone.
“You said you want to take a pic of Eric’s song on the radio! Hurry up!”
“But it’s pouring rain outside!”
Gary was already out the door, but I was the one with the camera so I raced after him and ew, I stepped in a puddle and soaked my bare feet and the hems of my pajama bottoms not to mention fucked up my freshly washed hair so yep we’re both insane but we ran across the street through the raindrops and sat in the car giggling like two teenagers and yep we got our pics and the rest of the day rocked hard.
So yesterday, when we drove to Home Depot and had the radio on in the car, I said to Gary, “Wouldn’t it be cool if Eric’s song came on WXPN and I could take a pic of the dashboard screen with his name?”
Gary, to his credit, didn’t call me a dork.
In fact, when we were back home and listening to the radio later in the afternoon and Eric’s song did come on, Gary grabbed his car keys.
“C’mon, Rob! Let’s go!”
“Wut? Where are we going?”
I was stretched out on the sofa in pajamas and bare feet, checking out these really cool Frida Kahlo benches on my phone.
“You said you want to take a pic of Eric’s song on the radio! Hurry up!”
“But it’s pouring rain outside!”
Gary was already out the door, but I was the one with the camera so I raced after him and ew, I stepped in a puddle and soaked my bare feet and the hems of my pajama bottoms not to mention fucked up my freshly washed hair so yep we’re both insane but we ran across the street through the raindrops and sat in the car giggling like two teenagers and yep we got our pics and the rest of the day rocked hard.
So that was yesterday.
I’m not sure what we’re doing today, oh wait, yes I am, we’re staying home, and I guess the only question is, will I ask Gary to bag up some of his clothes for charity or will I ask him to make sweet almond biscuits?
Three guesses.
Hey, at least I don’t have to sit in a cave somewhere meditating on what will make me happy.
It’s one of the few perks of old age.
And with that, I’m outta here.
Rock on!