We'll meet Again, Soon I Promise

Today I passed another milestone, today marks the beginning of week
thirteen of my lockdown.  It seems surreal somehow, not to have touched
another human being for three months.  I am in contact with my friends,
with one on a daily basis.  We check in with one another just to make sure
we have survived the night, and we laugh, at little things mostly, but it is
the link to our sanity.

Last week I went to the garden plot I have with the city and I worked the
soil, fertilized, raked and plotted my rows and hills.  I planted the seeds
that one day will give me beans and squash and cucumbers.  I planted the
the chard and tomato and pepper plants.  And, as always, I sowed the seeds
which will become the beautiful flowers that I will harvest along with my
veggies, for they are food for my soul.  They say he who plants a garden ,
plants hope, hope for the future.

My hope is that one day this will be a distant memory and we will laugh
about how long our hair got and scrounging for toilet paper, wearing masks
and latex gloves just to get a quart of milk.  But the laugh will ring hollow
for some of us, those who have lost friends and relatives.  A loss all the worse
for not being able to say good-by.  And new grandchildren that have yet to be
held, breathing in the sweet smell of them, feeling the connection with the
past and the bridge to the future.

There are things I do just to prove to myself that there is a life outside my
condo walls.  I have walked everyday, and today I aired up the tires on my
bicycle and took to the trail.  There is something about a bike ride, the sun
on your face, and the wind in your hair, it is the feeling of freedom.  The same
freedom I felt when I was a child and my bike took me away; past my school,
and the corner grocer, past the park, and grandma and grandpa's house.  No where
to go and all day to get there.

These days I ride the city trail, it is paved and winds its way for twelve glorious
miles thru cool wooded tracts and bright sunny fields.  I pass the park, there should
be children there but not today, there is no one on the swings, no one on the
merry-go-round.  Must be careful.  I go down the hill and across the wooden bridge
that spans the small creek that will bubble alongside  of me for at least three miles
before turning off.  I can hear the peepers singing their spring song, and the smell
of the moist ground that is shaking off its icy blanket, assaults my nose.  The water-
cress is greening the banks.

The trail enters a dense shady stretch, the cool is welcome even though the day is not
warm.  Here there is lush vegetation, some cultivated some natural, all beautiful.  Up
a small hill and I break into a residential section.   Large expansive lawns lead to lovely
homes, all meticulously mowed and trimmed.  Here and there, there is the sound of a
fountain splashing into a pond, surrounded by a riot of colorful flowers planted in
graceful curved beds.  I wonder as I pass, who lives there?  Did they plant their yard
solely for my enjoyment?  They cannot see it from their house like I can from the trail.
Silently I thank them as I peddle past.

I come to my first crossroad; in the hot days of summer an enterprising young man has
a lemonade stand at the corner.  He advertises his business with chalk messages up and
down the trail: "Lemonade ahead - $.50 a glass".  I don't supposed he will be there this
summer, not with the fear of the deadly virus still lurking.  Crossing the road, I continue
my way past homes, these are not so grand, but none the less beautifully landscaped.
Once in awhile  I spot a 'Little Library'.  Most of them say "closed", I guess they are
suffering the same fate as my young friend with the lemonade stand.

I cross another bridge over the creek that has turned and will disappear into a pond.  Now
the trail opens up onto a grassy field, last years cattails are fat and furry, they are shedding
their fluff, no more sleek and sassy brown spears, they have a bedraggled look about them.
A redwing blackbird perches on one gathering the soft material for his nesting bed.  He
trills at me as I ride by.  Up the hill and across another roadway, I peddle past a grove of
elderberry bushes, their blooms not quite open.  Come August they will be covered in
dark red berries.  And further into the trees I spy the Mayapples, the drupes hanging beneath
the umbrella foliage.  They aren't quite ready to taste, picked too early, they will give
one's tummy a message not soon forgotten.

I must have passed a dozen cottontails, some in pairs and some alone.  They are used to
the bicycles I guess, for they look up from their munching, but for a second only.
They don't even flash their fluffy tails; I am just ignored. The ground squirrels play tag
with my bike tires, running to and fro, they dare me to run them over.  They chatter away,
laughing at my attempts to steer around them.

Now and then I meet a walker or a jogger, I smile and nod, they nod back, there is no
conversation as we aren't wearing masks, it would seem so rude to Mother Nature;
as though we were shunning her invitation to come and enjoy her bounty.  I reach the
last crossroad, now the trail becomes part of a street.  It is here that I leave it, I make
a U-turn and head for home the way I came.

It only takes me forty-five minutes to ride that short twelve miles, but in that time, I
can forget that the world is in turmoil, people are dyeing, and so many don't have
enough to eat.  I remember that the world was a beautiful place and one day it will
be again, if not tomorrow, then soon.

                                           I'm just sayin'

What's a Mother To Do?

To those of you who have raised a daughter, this will be all too familiar.
Your sweet young child will one day bring home a beau, not just anyone
but one who means enough to her to introduce him to Mom and Dad.
And your world will come crashing down around your feet.

Here is this beautiful creature that you nurtured for years; thru dancing
school, piano lessons, grammar school, private high school and the best
finishing school your retirement plan could afford, standing next to a
young man wearing torn jeans and a dirty, ill-fitting t-shirt.  She introduces
him and he answers with a grunt.  He needs a haircut, and a shave, his
neck washed, and his nails also.  He looks at your extended hand and he
wonders, what...??

Ok, you say, he must have some redeeming qualities, after all you raised
her to be kind, gentile, sweet and smart.  And then he opens his mouth and
you find him to be rude, ignorant, bigoted, ill-,mannered, and a narcissistic
ass.  It seems as he has gone from one job to another, getting fired or leaving
after making a mess of things, and blaming everyone else for his failures.
Now what?

You sit your beautiful daughter down and try to explain what you find
objectionable about him.  You point out his shortcomings, you tell her that
in the end he will just hurt her and then move on.  You explain how he
insults her friends, and he hangs around with bullies.  His friends are one
step up from criminals.  Does she listen, no way.  The more you put him
down the more she defends him.  You know she understands what you are
saying, she sees the same things that you see but it doesn't seem to matter.
He has told your daughter; you are the enemy, you are trying to control her,
to keep her from finding her true potential.

Sound familiar?  It is an age-old story.  If you are lucky, your child will see
the light before they make a commitment that they cannot undo.

And so, it is in our country today, a rude, ignorant, bigoted, ill-mannered,
narcissistic ass is inhabiting the White House.  What the electorate saw in
him is beyond comprehension.  It is not like theses traits were hidden during
his campaign, no, quite to the contrary, they were in full view.  What was it
then that so enchanted his voters?  Was it the fact that he bragged that he could
shoot someone on Fifth Avenue, and they would still love him?  How about his
degradation of women, the handicapped, and persons of color, was that what
endeared him to so many?  Was it his crude, vulgar language, did that speak to
them?  This tin-man, snake oil salesman, grifter, and two-bit hustler has ingratiated
himself to millions, and even to those in his own party.

Oh, not at first, the Republicans saw him for what he was, and they called him out
for it, the press ridiculed him.  But it appeared no one saw, or wanted to see, what
was happening, no one saw the disenchanted people who were tired of being second-
class citizens, tired of being ignored by their politicians and tired of being passed-by,
by the technical revolution.   Someone was telling them it was not their fault that they
were poor, it was the system's fault.  It was a giant conspiracy in Washington D.C.
that took their money and kept them down.   All be it, that for every dollar they send
to Washington, they get eight dollars back, on average.

Now those same Republicans who called him names, faun and flatter him.  But many
have found that he is fickle, the price of his patronage is constant adulation.  One
slip, one show of self-determination, will bring his wrath down upon the hapless
candidate in the form of a primary challenger.

But the man behind the curtain cannot hide forever, he was always one step away
from being found out for what he is, a charlatan, a pretender; and the coronavirus
was that one step.  His ignorance has been exposed for all the world to see.  And
once, where there was just the supposition of his incompetence there is the
realization that he is in over his head and floundering.  Hundreds of thousands of
people have died needlessly for his stupidity, for his vanity, for his inability to
admit to his failings.

The world now looks at us, not for leadership, but with pity.  They see a country
that once saved the world, unable to save itself.  And as for those who believed
he would save them; they are the ones who are suffering the most.  The pandemic
is hitting them hard, and just like Nero, who fiddled while Rome burned, he is
throwing them to the lions.  He is telling them to get outside, go to church, go to
work, save his economy!  Meanwhile they are spreading the virus to friends and
family, while he is safely ensconced in his bubble of protection.

Some people are waking up to the fact that they have been taken for a buggy ride.
Even some Republicans who are running for office now seek to distance themselves
from his erratic behavior.  There is a murmuring in the underbelly of this country,
that with time, hopefully will grow louder.  It is not too late; we have another
chance to make things right.  In just five short months we can say goodbye to the
chicanery, and walk with our heads held high and be proud to be an American again.
We can show the world that we have learned, because all those brave men and women
who died and those who worked so hard, in the past, to make America great, they
taught us better.  They taught us to be kind, generous, giving and loyal to our
friends.  They taught us; we are better than this.  And I have faith that we will do
just that.

                               I'm just sayin'