March 25

Some Things in the Air

The last day before schools closed, I evacuated my classroom of all tissue, sanitizer, and alcohol wipes like some hastily redeployed soldier.  Every morning I wake in my king-sized, memory foam bunk without a cough or runny nose, I say a silent prayer then kick myself for not humping home the cheap one-ply from my school’s rest rooms.  My wife tosses and turns too.  Her employer instituted a telework policy: two weeks in office, two weeks remote.  Company woman through and through, a real lean-in trooper, she hunkered down in her deserted office every day last week, co-workers giving wide berth to the symptomatic: sneezers, wheezers, and geezers treated equally like modern-day lepers.

Paranoia is contagious.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re fortunate, thankful for employment, concerned for small business folk, but face it, people, we’re at war, our President says so, having just appropriated the notion from someone on tv with years of experience making serious faces for a network camera.  Even my wife can appreciate branding genius: Wartime President.  I’ve read enough post-apocalyptic novels, the weapon I need to defend my wife, my shelter, my hot tub, not a firearm, but information.  Information is truth, truth is power, power is survival.  This: a survival tale.  Me: Wartime Husband.

Friday, Cheryl comes home from work and, I kid you not – I’m in the kitchen, facemask secured (liberated from her metalsmith toolbox), blue nitrile gloves, taking steel wool to strawberries, dunking red peppers and summer squash in a 10% bleach solution – first thing she does, lifts my mask, kisses me.  On the lips!  Fuckin’ A!

Gloves on hips, I give her my best how could you look.  Bad enough the virus transmits through air, my wife seals the deal with personal contact.  Kicking off her pumps, she asks, how was your day, baby, what’s with the PPE?  Smells like a janitor’s closet in here.

Over her shoulder, Mike Pence’s face is on tv cable news, looking all solemn.

Hey you – Cheryl snaps her fingers – you haven’t been watching COVID news all day again, have you?

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March 18

My Corona by The Hack

Tired of singing the ABCs while washing your hands?

Ooh my little protein coat, my protein coat
When you gonna give me symptoms, Corona?

Ooh you make my motor slow, my motor slow
Stand away from me in all lines, Corona

Never gonna stop, give it up, such a city-wide
I always cover up from the touch of unsanitized

My my my aye ah choo!
Ma ma ma my Corona

Don’t come any closer huh, uh will ya huh
Close enough to sneeze in my eyes, Corona

Keeping it a mystery, gets to me
Had my fill of talking head lies, Corona

Never gonna stop, give it up, such a country-wide
Microbes in the air, unsettle us, exponential rise

My my my aye ah choo!
Ma ma ma my Corona (2x)

When you gonna give it to me, give it to me
Is it just a matter of time, Corona?

Is it d- d- destiny, d- destiny?
Or is it just the virus that binds, Corona?

Never gonna stop, Angel Soft, such a nation-wide
Toilet paper bought, gonna hoard, survive time with mine

My my my aye ah choo!
Ma ma ma ma ma ma ma
My my my aye ah choo!
Ma ma ma my Corona (4x)

Ooooooooh, whooooaaaaaahh,
My Corona!

Twenty seconds is up. Now what to sing while we drip dry?

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