A Dinner to Die For

There are just so many nights in a row you can eat turkey burgers or chicken stew or hamburgers or baked haddock or tuna salad and veggies, you know? So tonight, after hearing that this whole business will go on until June at least, we threw caution to the wind and ordered Chinese takeout, despite the inherent and unspoken danger which to even mention would be politically incorrect and dare I say racist. Anyway, we thought it would be extending an olive branch to the owners of China Rose, proving that we do not hold them directly responsible.

Once that part was over, trying not to contract the coronavirus from food prepared and handled by other people turned out to be harder than we imagined.

First my husband put on his surgical gloves and went to pick up the food. When he got home he washed his hands. Then we took the food out of the brown paper bag it was packed in and threw it away, and then both washed our hands. But laid out before us were all the containers the food came in. Some were plastic! Doesn't the virus live on plastic for two days, or is it two hours? How long? Should we put all the food outside on the porch for three hours and then eat it? But it would be like 11 pm by then. What to do? Sanitize each one? How unappetizing. What about the fortune cookies in those little plastic bags? They come from Brooklyn, in New York, the epicenter! Who touched them, we wondered, and did they have the virus?

If we do not contract Covid-19  from this one foolish evening and live to eat another meal, we will surely never do takeout again.

The Blame Game

Just laying eyes on New York Governor Andrew Cuomo's ugly mug makes me physically ill. He's on TV daily, making a big deal out of his state's horrendous climbing coronavirus cases, so I've got to be careful when I turn on the news. Usually I only do this while I am folding laundry mid-day, which seems to coincide with Andy's little show. Anyway, the Democrats, understandably grasping at straws to find a suitable candidate for November other than poor, befuddled Joe Biden, are whispering about Cuomo as a dark horse at the convention.

Cuomo, an obvious nitwit like his brother Fredo, has threatened that he will sue the Governor of Rhode Island for stopping New Yorkers at the border of his state in an effort to protect his constituency from the spread of the highly contagious killing disease.  As if things aren't bad enough, what we need right to calm the growing panic is governors suing governors -- is that Cuomo's thinking?

The prophylactic border-stops have not come without controversy: Steven Brown, Executive Director of the American Civil Liberties Union of Rhode Island, told The New York Times that the police stops in that state were unconstitutional: “Under the Fourth Amendment, having a New York state license plate simply does not, and cannot, constitute ‘probable cause’ to allow police to stop a car and interrogate the driver, no matter how laudable the goal of the stop may be,” Mr. Brown said in a statement.

Just wondering: Do the Democrats -- and the ACLU-- hope to stop this scourge or  keep it going until Election Day when they can then loudly trumpet it was all Trump's fault? Sure looks that way.

How Strong Are We?

"Boo-hoo!"

I'm confused over so many of the messages being thrown at us by people in positions of power concerning this pandemic. President Trump, rich guy Mark Cuban, Governor Andrew Cuomo, befuddled Joe Biden, and now even football star Tom Brady have asserted that, "Americans are strong. We will get through this. We always do." Tell that to the 2,229 Americans who have died from COVID-19 in recent weeks.

The truth is we don't always get through. Some of us do, but others don't. And since when are Americans so strong? Are the following statistics a sign of our strength? "In 2018 in America, there were 48,344 recorded suicides, up from 42,773 in 2014, according to the CDC's National Center for Health Statistics (NCHS). On average, adjusted for age, the annual U.S. suicide rate increased 24% between 1999 and 2014, from 10.5 to 13.0 suicides per 100,000 people, the highest rate recorded in 28 years." --Wikipedia

Or how about this from a 2018 article? "Long-term use of antidepressants is surging in the United States, according to a new analysis of federal data. Some 15.5 million Americans have been taking the medications for at least five years. The rate has almost doubled since 2010, and more than tripled since 2000."- The New York Times

Or this, from the CDC? "From 1999–2000 through 2017–2018, the prevalence of U.S. obesity increased from 30.5% to 42.4%, and the prevalence of severe obesity increased from 4.7% to 9.2%. Obesity-related conditions include heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes and certain types of cancer that are some of the leading causes of preventable, premature death."

See why I'm confused? Seems to me we have more in common with The Cowardly Lion than we'd care to admit.

Emotional Distancing

A dust storm in the 1930s.

Okay, I always have been one to bore easily and I gotta say I'm over the whole pandemic thing. The staying home, the social distancing, the washing of hands, the death tallies on the news: it's enough already. My husband, on the other hand, seems to be eating it up. Not that he's happy about it, but just that he finds it so interesting and so historical and so huge, like the 1918 Spanish Flu (now called the 1918 flu epidemic on Wikipedia since the politically correct police got to them) or the Dust Bowl in the 1930's. But this time, we're in it! In fact we've got front row seats, and who likes to sit in the front row? Nobody, that's who. Certainly not me, since you never know when you'll want to sneak out unseen.

As of today I do not have the coronavirus and I desperately want to have a kosher hot dog and some Nathan's French fries before I get it. With some of that yellow mustard.

Anecdotal Evidence Works for Me

Hey, if I come down with COVID-19 and find myself languishing in a hospital on a ventilator,  struggling to breathe, and someone wants to give me some of that "anecdotal" anti-malaria drug that hasn't yet been scientifically proven in a clinical trial except anyone they give it to gets better, I'll take it, thanks. I suggest you do the same.

Float Your Own Boat

Today's self-important Wall Street Journal has an op-ed piece written by an appropriately self-important person, telling readers "What To Do When You're Sheltering in Place," as if what works for him will surely work for everyone else. Excuse me for saying this, but it's mostly a load of crap. It starts out like this:
"Make your bed first thing when you get up. Stand up straight. Comb your hair. Dress in clean clothes. Don't spend the day in pajamas."

Okay, let's take it point by point. I never make my bed first thing because I firmly believe the sheets need to air out rather than get covered over immediately with a blanket and heavy bedspread. I usually make my bed later in the day, sometimes just before I get into it at night, and I am none the worse for it.

Stand up straight is fine advice I suppose, if you can, but some people might wake with a sore back and need to bend over a little for the first few minutes. As for combing your hair, what about bald people? And dressing in clean clothes seems ridiculous if you are, say, going to paint your bedroom or drywall the basement, work that this guy, a "senior fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center," probably hires out. The pajama thing is okay advice, but some people may find it cozy and comforting to be in their jammies all day long while a pandemic rages outside. How could it hurt?

The writer suggests "avoiding alcohol except for an evening cocktail or wine at dinner," so we can assume he is an alcoholic. He also says to "entirely avoid marijuana and other such substances," losing all credibility with me at that point. And even worse, he never says anything about making art or writing a blog. Or hitting a few golf balls in the yard. Or tramping though the woods, if there are any woods nearby. Or baking cookies, making jam, knitting a sweater or doing a jigsaw puzzle, all of which seem a lot more relaxing than his tip about reading the Constitution aloud to your family. What a jerk.

Funny or Die

It is 3:45 in the afternoon and I just cracked open a bottle of wine. This is unusual for me, but hey,  today is an unusual day. First off, I was given the finger twice while driving in the last half hour, and who knows why since I had done nothing wrong, at least not that I could discern. Actually, to be completely honest in the first case, when all I did was turn into a store parking lot, I got TWO FINGERS from the guy who was pissed off, one on each uplifted hand.

Shaken, I returned home to find an email from an editor who published an essay I wrote saying she had received angry comments from readers claiming I was insensitive to the current pandemic just because I used a little gallows humor when I said that if I got the virus now rather than in a few weeks I could score a respirator at the hospital. Oh please, lighten up people! There are always jokes in hard times; that's how we make it through.

I can still remember when I heard the Space Shuttle Challenger had blown up on January 28, 1986.  I was driving home from work for lunch when I heard the horrific news on my car radio shortly before noon. By the time I completed the fifteen minute commute, circled my block a couple of times to find parking, and walked up to my second floor apartment where my phone was ringing, somebody had already thought up a joke about the disaster which the caller told me. (What does NASA stand for? Need Another Seven Astronauts.) So please, give me a break for saying what I said about the respirators. FYI, it's true.

The End of Us

There is something slightly uplifting about the current situation gripping the world: Finally, regardless of age, race, gender, physical ability and political leanings, we are all in the same boat. This is a rare thing and one that might, at the end of it, actually help us in the long run. If there is a long run.

But what if there isn't? What if COVID-19 wipes out the human race? Nobody could deny we deserve it, that's for sure. After all, God kicked Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden for taking a bite of an apple. Imagine how He feels these days with the terrible actions of Man! (Yes, and Woman, and all you Half-men-Half-women.) You can't say we don't have it coming, what with the following heinous activities that are commonplace yet barely raise eyebrows anymore:

Priests sexually abusing little boys
Humans surgically altering their God-given bodies, as if He made a mistake
Different ethnic groups warring constantly
The abuse and resulting depletion of our planet's riches
Man's unbelievable and unceasing cruelty to animals

So if it's all over, or at least in the process of ending, I must say I'm glad to be here for it. It is quite momentous, and while it won't be in the history books since there won't be any more history, or books, I'd hate to have missed it. What a spectacle.

No-Contact Pizza

Tonight we had pizza with no touching. We phoned in our order, paid with a credit card and half an hour later the delivery person texted us as she pulled out of our driveway that she had left the pizza on the little bench outside our front door. Everything seemed pretty sterile and virus-free. Which is why when my husband started screaming, "The cardboard box is covered with coronavirus!" I was a bit baffled.

Let me amend that: what I was was sick and tired of my paranoid husband overreacting to the current pandemic.

Okay, sure -- a pandemic is not a good thing. But still, as my neighbor across the street just told me, on the phone of course, "Don't let it get you down. Do a jigsaw puzzle!" Anyway, yesterday, in search of fresh air, Mitch and I went for a walk in a lovely park alongside a river near our home. Despite all the cars in the parking lot making Mitch nervous, everything was going fine until we approached a young woman blowing bubbles for her little toddler. Those bubbles apparently were filled with the coronavirus, according to my husband. Who knew?

So we went back home and self-isolated and watched more about how many people have died on TV. Mitch thinks we should get the virus sooner rather than later while there are still ventilators available. (Jim Radford, if you are reading this, please call ASAP.)

Take Your News and Shove It

There was life before this pandemic but I cannot really remember it. All I know right now is that I'm stuck at home with my husband, and while he's about the best person I can think of to be stuck with (except for several movie stars I don't know in person), still it's enough already. 

The worst part, so far, is that my brain seems to have been emptied of anything but the most dire statistics concerning how many people have COVID-19, how many people died today, the shortage of tests and respirators and blah, blah, blah. 

This is thanks to the media, whose main objective seems to be to raise our level of panic by dishing out only the bad news. Yes, people have died, but many have recovered! Why don't they tell us that on the news? It would be so much better for the morale of the country to hear that, "Today 176 people recovered from the coronavirus and are feeling great!" 

And get this: According to a 2018 report by the United Nations World Population Prospects written well before the appearance of the coronavirus, "Approximately 7,452 people die every day in the United States. In other words, a person dies in the US approximately every 12 seconds." 

How come we never heard that on the news?

Testing, Testing ...

My friend "The Spreader" was supposed to get her coronavirus test results today, but instead she was informed to call back on Saturday. That's crazy! She was tested on Monday here in Maine, but for reasons unknown her specimen went to a lab in California. Oddly enough, several of her colleagues who were at the same meeting she attended with a proven virus carrier had tests at a different facility and got their results two days later. So what does this mean for you and me?

For me it means stay inside. My husband and I have been virtually self-quarantined, since we might have gotten it from our friend Ms. Spreader last Saturday when she came to dinner and coughed at us for four hours. As for all of you, it means that the virus testing in our country is spotty at best, with some people having no trouble getting tested and others left out in the cold.

Face it: Any one of us could have Covid-19 and pretty soon, everyone will. The test doesn't prevent it or treat it, it just helps those TV news people make all the charts and maps that flash on the screen and scare everyone. It's up to each one of us to stay healthy and survive, tests be damned. Now go have a kale and spinach salad with a glass of V-8 and do 15 pushups. And turn off the TV!

Coronavirus Update

Even here in out-of-the-way Maine, things are heating up pandemic-wise. Today I heard several facts concerning Covid-19 that are worth passing along, no pun intended. Some, all or none of them may or may not be true:

A baby born in China has tested positive for the disease.

A dog, also in China, that had been diagnosed several days ago with coronavirus died.

The virus is the work of an alien race living inside the Earth that is intent on killing off the human race before coming up and taking residence here.

The virus can live on paper, so make sure to wash your mail.

This epidemic will last through the summer.

This epidemic will last forever.

I also heard my first coronavirus joke:
First person: Want to hear a joke about coronavirus?
Second person: Okay.
First person: Never mind, you probably won't get it.

Looking at the Bright Side

The current coronavirus overtaking the globe has certainly put a damper on ordinary life. Thanks to the media, which I have been ingesting non-stop, thoughts of overcrowded hospitals lacking respirators and nurses but filled with dead ICU doctors fill my head, making it impossible to summon up a good mood. And last Saturday night I gave my last dinner party for the foreseeable future, if I even have a future. (At times like this I envy cats.)

One of the two invited guests -- let's call her The Spreader -- had the temerity to arrive blatantly sick. Assessing her condition at the door I was naturally alarmed and gave her the third degree, but she swore it was just a common cold with an accompanying cough, not the dreaded virus. So when she called me yesterday to say that someone present at a meeting she attended late last week was diagnosed with Covid-19, prompting her to get herself tested, I was dismayed, depressed and angry. Now I am simply waiting to die. This is a silly reaction on my part I know, yet there it is.

As for the bright side: My husband, grasping at straws which as we all know are pretty hard to find these days, posited that if The Spreader turns out to be positive, he and I will rightfully be tested, and if we get sick this early in the pandemic, at least here in Maine, we likely will be able to score a couple of respirators in the hospital.

Film Review: CONTAGION

In the Life Imitates Art Department, nothing comes closer than the 2011 film, Contagion. It feels like watching the news, only with Hollywood stars. The action closely mimics our current unhappy situation involving a novel virus originating in China that causes death and mayhem globally in no time. It's freaky seeing the similarities, and interesting. But even if we were not in the midst of our very own pandemic, director Stephen Soderbergh's compelling film has much to recommend it.

A great cast -- including Matt Damon, Kate Winslet, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jude Law, Marion Cotillard and Laurence Fishburne -- playing exceedingly likable characters we hate to see die (not all of them) is just one element of this gripping scientific thriller that follows the path of a virus from Patient Zero (Paltrow) to the whole world. Another is the edgy musical score that gets under your skin and adds to the feeling of panic and urgency felt from the opening scene until the final credits.

It's not an easy film to watch, and a second viewing helped me understand just how much I missed the first time around. With various city names and dates flashing on-screen frequently, and lots of esoteric, gobbledygook scientific jargon tossed around by specialists at the CDC and WHO, it's easy to become confused, especially since you're watching it on a TV in your home where people tend to talk to each other more than they do in theaters. I'd suggest you self-quarantine and watch it alone. 

The Rise of the Loner

I know it's short notice, but I've called this non-meeting of Loners Anonymous to pat our members on the back and assure them they have nothing to worry about when it comes to the current virus going around --  the one that originated in China but must not be attributed to China lest we be seen as racist, which is ironic since we all know that were we to hold meetings our group would certainly order in Chinese food.

Anyway, at last our habitual way of life is being celebrated and encouraged! What the government calls a "self-quarantine," we call a typical day at home. What they call "social distancing," we call common sense. Maybe, finally, loners will stop having such a bad reputation and get some respect.

Joe Biden's Lost Marbles

In the interest of being an inclusive society, with fat models strutting
down fashion runways and active amputees competing in sporting events, it's time we celebrate those among us who no longer have all their marbles. In 2019, one in ten people 65 and older suffered from Alzheimer's disease, so it's only fair that a candidate hoping to be our next president should have it. 

Wag the Coronavirus

First off, let's all admit that the Democrat's three-year attempt to take Trump down with the Russian thing failed, big, fat Mueller Report and all. Ditto the impeachment, which only served to increase the President's approval ratings. So what else could they do? Hey, here's an idea: What if a Mysterious Chinese Virus arose that fucked-up Trump's precious "good economy" and threatened the lives of all Americans? Better yet, one that Trump could be accused of mishandling? And not only that, but the flagging ratings of all the news shows would be invigorated! It's brilliant!

Anyway, it could have happened that way, who knows. "We the People" know nothing about anything, and that's the truth. As for this virus thing, it is possibly being blown out of proportion by the media just for the reasons stated above. Hysteria reigns, and that's the way to sell papers, which explains why Trump is being excoriated by his critics for "downplaying" the seriousness of it all. Most recently they whined that he hasn't been tested for the virus, even though he met with someone who met with someone who had tested positive for the virus. And not only that, but he still shakes hands with people! Oy!

On a more personal note, I'm certain I have recently met with someone who recently met someone else who sat next to someone who had gone to a shopping mall where someone who was there among the throngs of shoppers had the virus, and I have not been tested. So I could definitely have the virus RIGHT NOW, which is why I am choosing to self-quarantine for the next 14 days at least. (Thank God I always stock plenty of toilet paper, which is now being hoarded by the masses who fear being stuck at home without any.) As for our trip to Israel, Bibi took that off the table with his mandatory two-week quarantine for all people entering his country. Since we were going for 15 days, it just doesn't make sense.

God Must Be a Democrat

Despite the appeal of flying First Class in a virtually empty plane for 12 hours, then arriving in a country where the coronavirus and its accompanying paranoia has emptied the streets of 80,000 citizens who are self-quarantined at home and eliminated all visitors from Europe, leaving only Israelis (not that there's anything wrong with them) in face masks who won't shake your hand or come within six feet of you, and with many mosques and churches closed, events cancelled and large gatherings of people outlawed by the government, our group has finally, after much discussion, cancelled our upcoming trip to Israel we have been planning since last July.


This sucks. And for what? The flu? A few coughs and a slight fever? Oh right, it's a WORLDWIDE PANDEMIC!! Luckily it got here just in time to reinvigorate the ratings of all the news shows after the 24/7 drivel about the impeachment ebbed. Hey look -- here's a brand new terrible thing to blame on Donald Trump! (God must be a Democrat.)

Coffe, Tea or IV?

My husband and I, along with two dear friends, are scheduled for a two-week trip to Israel at the end of this month. But in light of the current flu pandemic, is that wise? Israel now has 21 cases of the coronavirus, and has announced a dire set of rules for its citizens: No shaking of hands or physical contact of any kind, and keep a distance of six feet between yourself and others while in public.

The latest in flight crew attire.

As the lone member of our party who would sooner stay home with a good book and not die, I worry that it won't be much fun, what with 80,000 Israelis currently self-quarantined in their homes. But Mitch, ever on the lookout for the silver lining in any cloud, suggested that the airline might be willing to upgrade us all to First Class if we don't cancel. "Just think," he said, "we could get those nice beds. It is a 12-hour-flight, after all."

I said I would only consider it if each bed came with an IV-hookup and a personal nurse. It's not likely, but you never know -- especially since several airlines having been flying empty "ghost planes" just to avoid losing their landing slots at various airports. (I guess I'm not the only neurotic out there.)

Who Knew I'm So Privileged?

I might as well just shoot myself right now since I am such a terrible person. Or I could do the trendy thing and hang myself from a doorknob. Either way, I'd be gone and Lord knows society would be a heck of a lot better off. Why? Turns out that not only am I an example of white privilege, virtually sailing through life without any roadblocks, like at say a bagel shop or a shoe store where I can get the attention of the sales clerk right away, but today I learned that I am also a "cis privileged" woman because I still identify with the gender assigned to me at birth and thus have no trouble going into any public restroom marked "WOMEN" or trying on a bathing suit in a department store or any one of the hundreds of perks I get because I have chosen to accept my original genitalia.

Who knew I was so privileged? It certainly didn't feel that way last week when I was flying home from Florida, crammed into a tiny middle seat with a lady sitting behind me coughing incessantly, her phlegm droplets spraying onto my head, not to mention the horrible turbulence that lasted for the entire flight which ignited the mournful wailing of at least three babies on board. My being a female, and a white one to boot, helped me not one iota in either of those situations.

Or did it? Would a black transgender person have had a worse time? Would they be offered fewer bags of pretzels by the flight attendant? Is counting my blessings different from counting my privileges? It's all so confusing. Good thing colleges now offer courses in all this stuff.

The Next First Lady

One of the women below will be our next First Lady, meaning we'll be seeing and hearing quite a lot about her: her hair, her clothes, and her ideas about how to make the country better. For example, Lady Bird Johnson worked to beautify America by planting flowers and creating green spaces in urban areas, Laura Bush was an advocate for improving literacy in young people and Michelle Obama wanted kids to stop eating French fries for lunch.

For extra credit, guess which one of them will never be on the cover of Vogue magazine? (Hint: She is a former fashion model.)

Mrs. Joe Biden

Mrs. Bernie Sanders

Mrs. Donald Trump

If Looks Could Kill

Honestly, do you really want to look at this face every day for the next four years?
It's possible that Joe Biden is simply too ugly to be president.
He actually makes Donald Trump look handsome, and I'm no Trumpie.

The Big Picture

In the big picture, nothing small matters. This translates into first obtaining and then maintaining  a devil-may-care attitude about everything. Sadly that attitude is my weak suit; I worry about everything and always have, apparently because of an early childhood trauma. It doesn't matter what trauma since everyone has one so everyone worries. Thus the overwhelming popularity of various addictions useful as buffers from painful memories.

These thoughts clogged my brain early this morning, and I do mean early. Eyes wide open at 2:30, I was consumed with doubt and fear over an upcoming 12-hour flight to Israel. Could I possibly have been sane when I agreed to such folly months ago? Surely not. Finally I left my bed and resigned myself to the new day, softening the blow with a handful of raspberries and a look at yesterday's paper.

I had to read yesterday's paper because here in Maine, the Monday papers including the Portland Press Herald and the Wall Street Journal (local edition printed here) will no longer be published due to some sort of printing problem or glitch or union decision or fill in the blank, who knows. All I know is we got a letter weeks ago stating that beginning on March 2, our Monday paper would be delivered on Tuesday.

At first I was incensed, thinking that's crazy! Until I realized that the news is virtually the same every day, give or take: Trump sucks in some way, the Democrats have no reasonable path to win back the White House, somewhere mobs of people are protesting some sort of indignity and the coronavirus continues to kill people, at a snail's pace for sure but still, those dead people are truly dead.

So I have no right to be bothered about any little thing. I was going to recount how when my husband showed up at about six o'clock and blearily prepared a pot of coffee he forgot to replace the carafe under the spigot on the electric coffee pot after filling it with water and turning it on, then left the kitchen for just long enough for me to enter and find a decent quantity of hot brown liquid pooling on the kitchen counter and dripping down the front of the cabinets onto the floor and clean up the mess. Many paper towels were involved and so in some small way our planet was harmed. But in light of the big picture, I guess it's too insignificant to mention.

Maureen Dowd Makes Me Sick

In today's Yellow Rag, a.k.a. The New York Times, the always-obnoxious Maureen Dowd has a column entitled "Donald Trump Makes Us Ill." Apparently by putting his VP in charge, Trump has issued a death sentence for us all. This is because Mike Pence is a Christian, and as you should know by now, Christianity Kills.

I couldn't read much of Dowd's column as I started to gag just from the title and had to make a run for the Pepto-Bismol. This always happens to me when I make the mistake of paging through that paper. My husband likes it and reads every word, insisting it's important to see all sides. Too bad the editors at the Times don't share his belief.