I am not happy with Covid-19.
It has thrown a blanket over my brain. It is always there, no matter what I am thinking or doing or thinking about doing. There to remind me that the world is dangerous and fucked up.
I see those commercials that try to make light of the situation, to do the best that they can with an insane reality. Like Corona (ironically enough). But it doesn't help me.
Their ad shows people "finding their own beach". Sitting in kiddie pools in the living room drinking beer. Or zooming a party, drinking beer. Or whatever.
I don't smile. It depresses me. People should be out partying on beaches. It's fucking July.
I wouldn't be out there because the current state of my body has me banned from any public beaches. Every time I try to visit one they throw a net over my head and drag me back to the parking lot.
But the pretty people, the young and the sexy, should be drinking beer on the beach in complete abandon. Laughing their fucking asses off. Worshiping the sun. And life.
I catch a little racing, lose myself for a bit, until they show the pit crew wearing masks. Post race with no fans. Drivers with masks. Six foot long microphone poles. Christ, I even watched Formula One racing yesterday and today. Same mask shit. Don't tell my family members. I was sworn to NASCAR loyalty 40 years ago. Used to sneak into the closet with a TV with a 4" screen to watch open wheel.
Don't get me wrong. I support mask wearing. Heartily. If you don't wear one you are a fucking asshole. But it's the constant reminder that you can't get away from this shit. It is everywhere. Affects everything.
Pro sports trying to crank up but athletes keep testing positive. I am not feeling hopeful.
"Lives well lived". At the end of the 4 o'clock MSNBC broadcast. Two people every day who died from Covid-19. The other day it was an eight year old girl. Eight years old, for Christ sake. And a pregnant woman. They delivered her baby early because they knew Mom was gonna die. Dad got a new baby and a dead wife.
Happy stories too, and thank god for those. The people who beat it. Were reunited with their families.
I have covered this territory before. I just can't get away from the emotional roller coaster.
My brain cannot accept this situation. I am in a constant state of disbelief. When I go out and come across young people they don't seem as disturbed. Could be my own warped interpretation but I just don't get a feeling of dread and despair from them. They seem to just be dealing with it.
The summer is trickling by, moving so slowly, which is something I have wished for all my life. But I am not enjoying it. I am and I'm not. Carol and I have been eating dinner on the screened-in porch, which is nice and something we never did enough of before. I am warm, and happy to be padding around in shorts and a t-shirt.
But I feel like a prisoner in solitary confinement. Ain't seeing nobody, ain't doing nothing.
In the last few weeks we met up with Craig, Amanda, Jason and Karen outdoors and had lunch. We got out to Portsmouth, saw Keith's apartment, met Krista, and ate lunch in a park with the two of them and Craig and Murray. Beautiful day. A couple of days ago Carol had to pop into Concord so we had lunch at Cheers on the patio.
These three events were magnificent. I enjoyed them more than I ever would have before.
Despair has become a fact of life and joy has become cathartic.
Strange fucking world.
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