These are, as they say, the times that try men’s souls. And women’s. And congresspersons’. And wombats’. And the soul of language itself.
We’re contagious creatures, you and me. I don’t mean in that way, although we’re certainly that too. Stay home; wear your mask; protect the vulnerable; remember we’re all vulnerable. Etceteraaah. But today I mean we’re contagious like cats are contagious, for good and for ill.
For fifty years, we human beans have been celebrating Earth Day. May the fiftieth one be one to remember.
When we are afraid, may we be turned into love. When we are excruciatingly squirrelly, may we be turned into love. When the urge to dance to Pitbull’s song about coronavirus overcomes us,* may we be turned into love.
In times of sadness, we search for sweetness. Good to know that sweetness is always searching for us, too.
Bruce Springsteen is livestreaming from home today. I wonder how Ronnie is handling all of this. Frozen vegetables are hard to find. I should call my aunt. Grocery store workers never signed up to be society’s heroes, but here we are. I need to go switch the laundry.
They say things are getting worse. They say things are going to get better, maybe even better than the “better” they said before. But none of them or us has the final say.
In this distanced, digital time, scrolling can help. Scrolling can also hurt. But strolling — strolling is always a good idea.