There is little point at this time, of trying to recap something that pretty much all of us are living through, despite many making their best effort to pretend nothing is happening at all. And of course, "if we pretend hard enough," (thank you, Mark Russell) we can do it, too.
I'm really not at a loss for what has gone on--in fact, I pretty much anticipated what this pandemic would be like, what it would do, and how we, the human beings that populate this place we rent out were going to take it.
We mostly I think got into the spirit of realizing COVID-19 (oh, you know, we're not supposed to talk about that anymore, though, are we? What's the next Disease of the Week we're supposed to think we have?) was for real, and we better get our shit together.
I realize how hard it's been--so many were out of work, and still are. I lost work, as well, despite being an essential worker, and the movement of business carried on.
And of course, too many in this country believed they were immune to it. Worse, that it wasn't real, the media was making it up to make you know who look bad. He didn't need any help...bitch, please.
Everyone ground and sharpened their axes, and looked for someone to blame, and then did everything they could do to attack the target. How dare people interrupt their spoiled, entitled lifestyle! How dare these doctors, these people with hifalutin titles tell them they can't go out, can't do this, can't do that, and have to wash their hands, and wear a mask--OH MY GOD! THE HORROR!
A little inconvenience goes a long way, and I admittedly enjoy watching and listening to the griping and bitching.
Wait till you get sick. Wait will your spouse, your kids, your best friend...dies. Wait till you end up in isolation, on a machine helping you breathe, and knowing that you will die alone, with no one near you, and you think of all the things you wanted to say, the things you wanted to do...but you had to play tough, and you got your ass kicked for it.
I hope this doesn't happen to you. I don't want it to. I don't want any more deaths, sickness, suffering, but we're going to get it. This madness of business and politics, that demand the grubbers in the earth get back to work, take their measly pay, 'cause Heaven forbid, they get unemployment! Get back to work, so we can all go shopping, and go out to eat, and bitch out the $2 per hour server and withhold her tip because your fucking entree didn't come out right.
Just examples. It is different, though, for me.
I don't honestly miss eating out. I didn't do it that often but I have friends I liked to support. I do miss them, and I wish for them to do all right. It's not the same to do a mobile order (I actually learned how to do that, imagine!), and walk into an empty building, say hi to your friends from a distance, and leave.
I hope this is not our future, but it could damn well be.
How about work? Yes, we still do that. Honestly, I prefer the work from home model; I don't need people checking up on me at the workplace, and home is even better. I still do physically have to go places, and that's fine. I think we're seeing that sea change.
The human contact thing, though; we still need that, and we do need places to go, to patronize, to find those folks to say hello to, and hang out with. We have to find the ways, and we have to change.
I wrote about this in our "After the Pandemic" collection (available at Sunbury Press Books dot com -- heh, got the shameless plug in!)...we did shows on the BookSpeak Network (Google that), and we all discussed where we were, and the ways things will change, and have to change.
Change, all. We gotta figure it out.
I'm right now looking over where we are...and I have to look to my own situation. And does that ever change.
The broadcasting world is a wind of change, although many have tried to live in a past of the good ol' days, but they catch up. I've watched one company put me on extended furlough, another job never started, and the business model rolled on at another, leaving many of my friends out of work, and others wondering what the fuck just happened.
I know, because I have been through it. I'm again holding the coats of varied people, but that's been my career, so I'm down with it. And going in, every morning at the crack of ass is no longer exciting, although I have one job I'd do it for if they wanted me to.
That job is okay, and my new one...this is different.
Sunbury Press Books is getting into the audiobook business again, and I'm the coordinator for it all. So much to do, so many books to consider, tech stuff, voices, lining up talent, and all that. I'm taking it slowly because we really have to. This is something you grow, and that takes time.
Meanwhile, 2nd edit is coming for "Call it Love," my sequel to "Searching for Roy Buchanan," (avail at Brown Posey Press dot com, heh)...it's feeling good, quite good. We write, don't we? I finished off a manuscript, and have edited an awful lot of work.
Now, the fun of my house...my 15 year old AC shit the bed, and the 20? year old furnace is going with it. Space, age, and a need for a proper fixup mean I'm going to have big job in July. Small job--fix the back steps (my dear friend Alice is coming to help on that, I hope...I'm no Bob Vila, believe it).
So anyway, life is not that bad folks...a little discomfort, if we are lucky enough to have just that, we can handle. We're grown ups, unlike too many that we expect to adult, because we pay them to, but whatever...
It's still morning, and I have things to do, to produce and to get on with. Such as my life.
I know this isn't like a newsletter, more like a rant, but I hope you and yours are well, and you do what is needed to be safe. We'll see each other again, and yeah, let's fucking appreciate it when it comes.
Peace, the fuck Out.