%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. |
| Another BKC (dis)jointed write In other news and very concerning: a 90% increase in Covid among children? https://www.msn.com/en-us/health/medical/covid-19-cases-in-us-children-have-incr... I remember when my mom locked the doors on our house after a murder-suicide went down two blocks away when I was a kid. Sure, us 10-year-olds could gather and watch in an abandoned lot across the street while cops surrounded the shooter's home. But with the threat gone, the world was a different place for a short time that summer. Now we have a virus that is spreading rapidly, known to be deadly. Let's go to the Mexican restaurant and order from that big plastic menu with about a hundred entrees to choose from, you have to flip through the pages a hundred times. We got our state required masks. Wore them the negotiable 20 feet to the table. Nope, no killers in here while we suck down a pitcher of Strawberry Margarita, heavily laced with Tequila. WTF? Nope, don't lock the doors. Go out, business as usual. Don't change your ways. Forget to wash you hands until after you put something in your mouth when your plate of Chile Rellenos-covered burritos arrive. Mmmmm, community bowl of chips, with guac and salsa to dip. Yummm, I'm all buzzy. Let the kid drive us home and I'll sleep it off. What's summer good for, if we have to stay locked up inside? Let's make plans for our vacation. That virus should be gone by Spring Break. Uh-huh. So sick of being told what to do. I'm going out there. Hell, I might not wear a mask. But if I do, I'm going to get my grubby fingers all over it. And then, I'll touch other stuff and watch those people with spray bottles wiping down every surface behind me. Fools! Don't they know virus can't go through walls? I'll be sick when I'm dead. You're dead to me, bud. I especially enjoy hearing people say, if one of us gets the virus, let's all get infected with it at the same time and get it over with. Uh-what? You know it's deadly, right? Even people my wife works with in healthcare, who are used to these flu-like scenarios, say that. I'm thinking, okayyyy, but you might get stuck with that shit forever like Herpes. You really want to mess with a bad MF disease that will get inside your cavity, with heart and lungs, and hope you got The DNA to drill it down? You want to carry that shit with you the rest of your life, not acknowledging it could be shortening your stay on this planet? Ignorance. It's everywhere. They do not investigate or consider all the details. People need labels on things, because they cannot function with subjective truths. They need things to fit in their bewildered brains, tidy little boxes. If you can't figure it out, blissful ignorance is your indifferent friend. We have to mill around people like that. No wonder I feel suffocated when I'm dining with my in-laws to celebrate their 50th and wondering how clean the chairs are at our table. Or, how do they disinfect these menus with binding that feel a bit tacky. I'm breathing the same air as everybody else still, but we're not worried about that despite recent reports of how the coronavirus spreads? Oh, you got tested and you don't have it. Yeah, you're Superman. Okay, let's go out there and try again. The gym is still closed and they don't want me there. Some people know. They take your temperature at the hospitals, clinics and dentist office, but that's just precautionary. Have they really denied admittance to anybody? You're all Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, to all their screening questions. I ain't got nothing, now get outta my way. I have an appointment and I didn't come early enough for this. Mask it, touch it, touch mask, touch it, adjust mask again, touch other parts of face and anatomy/clothes, touch more surfaces, the mask isn't on tight and air leaks in everywhere, and touch, touch, touch and out again. Oops, forgot to sanitize. Oh, well. I'll do it as soon as I get home. Touch car door handle. Touch seat. Touch steering wheel and gear shift, and what the heck, radio. Adjust clothes, mirrors, touch this and that and face after remembering to take mask off after getting on the road. Get home and touch every thing on way in through door and, oooo, what's in the fridge? Touch, touch, touch, and hey kids, touch, touch and back to my food, and oops, forgot to wash my hands. Soap, rinse five seconds, towel off and eat...and die. That about right? Note to self: get the kids tested. They won't like having a swab in their nostrils. At least, they don't shove it up high anymore. Wonder if we can get them a cheek swab? Right, the NFL and other pro sports probably locked down all those kits. Anyway, the kids seem fine. It'll come back negative...or false negative. Whatever. When's school start? I'm sure we can squeeze in another visit to the in-laws before end of summer. Yes! Microwave burrito. Hmmm, might need another trip for groceries. No salsa. 8.11.20 News Unedited Brian Keith Compton is an award-winning journalist (seriously), who hasn't been tooting his horn loud enough, apparently. But, that's okay, he has three colorful broadcasting awards in a box somewhere in the attic and memories of articles in print in various newspapers, magazines and journals at various points of his journalistic life (vacated after losing vision to glaucoma). He moines these little tidbits from the internet and around the world, applying his own homespun sensibilities to the offerings. Now on his own, with little aspiration, an active retiree of several aspects of writing, but apparent master of none. And that's the realistic aspect of his condition. |
 Log in to Leave Feedback |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
