notjustaboutsex

CHRONICLES OF COVID, episode 202

I have truly stepped into an Orwellian nightmare with a smattering of Hitchcock. As if it’s not enough that Minneapolis is burning, demonstrators are being gassed and the president’s still saying cruel and embarrassing things — an old fashioned ice cream truck has been parked on my street playing over and over again that tingly, happy little tune that used to get my six year old self terribly excited, but my much older self finds a bit too ironic to swallow. Not too ironic, however, to keep me from heading down there for a small chocolate cone dip. Hey, you gotta eat.

My sister asked me if I were going to the demonstration. It was dark when she inquired and for the last three months I have never ventured out after sunset. In the early days of Covid isolation, I found the few hooded creatures on the street intimidating. So, I started to wear a hood, but intimidated no one. Nervous, I just stayed home. Now with summer almost here and the longer nights, I may stick my nose out, but not to a demonstration.. My cotton mask is not strong enough to withstand gas and I certainly don’t want to get into a brawl with someone wearing no mask at all.  But that’s only part of it. Last night there were fire engines on my block and the colored lights were spinning in my apartment like I was at Studio 54. I raced down to check it out because tenements are quite vulnerable and I was relieved that a certain movie star’s house and my own were ok. Still. Lots of tension. Then about five hours later, as I was preparing for Amanpour’s news show, I heard something that at first sounded like a car doing whatever cars do that actually sounds like a firecracker or more in fact like a gun. I do believe it was a gun. I have no idea how close it was or if they were blanks (yes, I watch CSI). Darling is losing her hearing, so I was left bearing the burden of barking for both of us. As soon as I heard the first shot, I wanted to hit the deck, but made the decision to simply sit still on the sofa and squeeze the remote control. If someone were blowing off steam, he was heard

Sleeping was crazy after a night like that. Today, I felt it incumbent to rest alfresco and support the Amazon by going to the closest piece of grass and sun I could find. A lot of other people must have had a bad night as the area filled up fast; still Darling and I were able to find a tiny patch of green where she could rub her body and I could lift my mask to breathe. I never take the trees for granted, even more now as the lungs of the world are being so threatened by big money. All the beauty and potential at risk along with the indigenous population facing Covid on top of everything else.

If ever a time were more rife with the number of horrible things that need to be changed, this is it.  We need so much more than recovery; we need discovery. Creating a world that protects first. Yes.

My lungs are whispering to me.

               They cry for their cousins in the south, knowing that we need to Breathe together.

                                            And keep our green skies below.