Didn’t create any content for my site yesterday. Not motivated. Being lethargic in cycles is the norm for this 74 year old. Burning the midnight oil, leaning over the drawing board in 15 hour stretches….something for twenty somethings. But, its a good thing. The idea that one needs to produce SOMETHING every day isn’t realistic. A lot of crap gets produced under that pressure. Hard for me to get used to the idea that loose, spontaneous and unpolished is a good thing in the current culture. The smooth presentation a stamp of the past somehow. Or is sloppy the token of authenticity for a fresh new blogger. Engaging the viewer remains the test for content.
Nearly two months! I’ve declared at the top of this post. Yes, seems like a while with the beginning still fresh, the ides of March. But in a year it will seem like 50 days is the start of the second inning in a nine inning baseball game. CV is pitching with a nasty curve ball, no doubt spitting on it. Its a culturally specific parallel, baseball games and the two years “they” say this game will take. Until 70% of humanity has been sickened (or not) by the CV. Waves diminishing in amplitude over several years until CV is one of many viruses resident in the herd (you and me and eight billion others). Not sure how I like being described as one of a herd. Don’t want to be a steer. Being a stud bull sounds better. Next life maybe….but I’ll put the next life off as long as I can.
In the first couple of weeks of this current dystopian fantasy I went to my library and pulled down “The Tibetan book of living and dying” by Sogyal Rinpoche. Not whats called a death bed conversion exactly but more my heightened curiosity. For we in the west death is a taboo subject, its anticipation discouraged. The inevitability of death is ignored too. Makes CV quite a spotlight. Death of course is easy. The final act of life can feel like what it is, a liberation from pain and struggle. Or it can be wrenching and painful. The book, in my reading, suggests that the way we have lived informs how we deal with our death. “The curtain descends, everything ends, too soon, too soon”. Words from the composer Kurt Weil in his “September Song”.
Looking further ahead, its the economy. I think the USA will take a bigger hit than many countries. Culturally the USA isn’t up to the measures needed. This anti authority chic so popular with half the population doesn’t contribute to success in mitigation. Whatever the government tells you is a lie. Believe what is convenient and comfortable as long as possible. Only accept reality when it kicks you squarely in the ass. The relaxation we see now in social distance rules, now being the start of warm weather, will raise the toll later. Humans are not good at anticipation. We stand on the railroad track. We feel the vibration of the rail. We hear the whistle of the approaching locomotive, we see it’s light getting brighter, bigger. Some of us step aside. Many do not. They need the impact for belief to take them. Seems to be a basic division among people. Reflected in the political division maybe. I tend to believe what experts tell me. Many automatically disbelieve, especially if it’s something they’d rather not accept. This virus is every bit as hard on society when it hits as a 50 ton locomotive moving at 50 miles an hour.
No, I am not stir crazy, not yet. A friend gave me a “back handed” complement (a candid observation) when realization had just hit us both. He said he knew of nobody more ready to hunker down, shelter in place, self isolate…than me. He knows a lot of people, still, I do believe he is accurate. I have been solo a long time. My little shack in the woods has been organized over nearly two decades for hunkering down. With a couple of dozen serious hobbies I have lots of projects in process. Lots of diversion. They mostly don’t need the participation of others. Not directly anyway. Thank God for the internet. Or thank DARPA. Technology can’t do everything, not yet, robots are crude now. But being human I need contact and interaction. The sex drive is limited to exercise by imagination in this tercera edad, the third part of life as they say in Spanish. But just a smile from a clerk at a store counts for something. Its something missing now. People on the phone are friendlier it seems. More indulgent of my blathering. I’m too tough and stoic to ask for conversation, but I need it. On Skype more now. Glad to note that network bandwidth seems to be healthy despite all the work from home and streaming. Essential infrastructure we’d all agree. So I keep at a rotating roster of interests, this site being one. There are also a dozen unfinished novels. People will still be reading? Those that were exercising their literacy before CV will not give it up post CV, will they?
And anyway, how could anyone tell I’d gone crazy from being in stir? (USA slang for a lock-up, jail, carcel)