Postcards from the Plague

I was going to make this into a Facebook post but then I thought, "hell, why waste it on them??" So I will share it there later (laugh, ironically). I'm thinking today about how un-funny I am. I'm pragmatic, helpful, exhortative (preachy?), occasionally erudite, often verbose, but not funny and rarely genuine.

Oh yes, I mean what I say. But I write mostly to educate and improve (Yeouch, that sounds sententious). The intent is not to censure or lecture. But it is presumptuous to think that, at any time, one can sanctimoniously instruct another. During the Covid pandemic, it's ludicrous. Have you noticed that I think too much? (Matchbox 20 nod)

I was reading a post (Yes, on Facebook, don't judge) that was truly hilarious, and real, and genuine and genuinely funny. The author penned from the gut the "real" of quarantine. She spoke of boredom and motherhood (synonymous) and Legos (Is it all capitalized? LEGO?) And are they from Sweden or England, I've read conflicting stories. Because I research these things, thank you for asking. Someone has to. You're welcome.

Same FB friend also spoke of the mind-bending ennui of watching other people play Minecraft on Youtube (that was fucking hilarious in many ways.) I didn't quite get why you would watch someone play Minecraft...I believe the petite bebe (little kid) invited? Evidently it's a quarantine thing. Like jigsaw puzzles and dried bean hoarding. And 'peakin 'a which (speaking of which, to quote/paraphrase my youngest son when he was 4, for the uninitiated) DOES anyone eat dried beans, ever?

I was given some from a food pantry distribution in which no one wanted them. They have been preciously guarded (ignored) in my spare room for months. Now they are the Holy Grail? Was some missive sent down from on high...thou shalt procure for thyself the dried legumes, and then having done so, thou shalt, storest them in thy barns until moth and mold doth corrupt). If YOU'RE not seeing Monty Python in that, well, I'm sorry for you.

And why is yeast sold out? YEAST, I ask you?? I'm a Shipt shopper  (for my sins)  I can speak ex cathedra on people's buying habits. NOBODY, not no WAY, NOT no how ,buys yeast in good times. So, Quo Vadis?? Where ya goin' with dat yeast, pilgrim? Is everyone one suddenly Suzie Homemaker makin bread for some journey? My dark mind doubts. And so does my skeptic bestie Rose. She believes that after coronavirus, there will be shit tons of flour, oil, YEAST, rice, DRIED BEANS,  still on folks. shelves, gathering dust. And I agree. We are not THAT desperate yet.

Back to Minecraft. I wouldn't watch anyone play anything. Quarantine be damned. But my husband has long been a student of the University of Youtube (his words) (I like parenthesis, can you tell?) (Shut up). He has been watching truck repair videos. I cannot expound further because the terms might as well be the ancient tongue of Ireland.

Whilst I lack Goidelic (Irish), I know a crap video when I hear one. There's one guy who has a speech impediment and still curtheths (curses, SORRY). He manages to impart some helpful truck lore. There are others who  are not as helpful. A father and heir (presumptive) from nether American regions who swear and place alcoholic beverages on fenders of cars and allow small ones to roam about unattended. It boggles.

So I can't speak Minecraft or Ford Ranger cadre, but I talk fluent travelog . Cuz THAT IS where I was supposed to be in March. Oberammergau 2020 or Italy or Greece. Making a pilgrimage. How funny would it have been ((not very, I'm told) to be trapped in the Eternal City? Or along the Cinque Terra? I still would have loved to go. Husband assures me it's better stateside. So back to my original bitch. Why am I not funny? (You weren't paying attention?? 10 points off!!)

Because I don't just let it out. I feel the need to pontificate. The post which spurred this was real. And funny. (Was it copied? I'm that hag who wonders). All she did was share her quarantine log (Captain's log). It should have said Star date thus and such.  Any true Trekkian would have known. And yet, here I sit trying to outwit. I'm such a poser, failure, sycophant. I don't share anything new. I just respond to others. Yegads, woman, have another glass of wine.

I think I could be funny. If I would just let go the need to, I don't know, be essential. That's what it's all about. So here I go on my own (Whitesnake). Just talk? God, is this done? God, how I envy the libertine! Where do I go from here? (You were expecting a satisfying conclusion? More fool you. )

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