Post #48 - Office closed for the day

as the bartender celebrates his 65th year of making the planet a crankier place.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Post #60: Getting Sick With Something Other Than COVID During a Pandemic or A Stroke is a Stroke is a Stroke is a Stroke. Or is it?

A few years ago, Sue and I were watching "The Americans" (ever notice on that show that Felicity had a better record as a fighter than Muhammad Ali and more sex than Wilt Chamberlain?) when my right side went numb. I thought God was punishing me for rooting for the FBI, but doctors thought it was a TIA. I went to the hospital and recovered quickly with only some residual quiver in my hand, as if I needed another burden besides a lack of musical talent when trying to play the ukulele. Last year, I came closer than I wanted to to popping off when I found myself suffering from chest pains and shortness of breath while attempting to climb even the smallest of hills. The result was four coronary stents over two surgeries, adding to one that was put in some nine years ago. Tuesday, I go into the hospital again for another catheterization to see if my current symptoms are the result of more blockages. It's nerve wracking to be a high risk person and go to a place where the ICU
Read more

Post #13 - Dispatch From Queens

Sal reports:   My plan was to venture outdoors twice a week. My business is mail order, so I implemented new COVID shipping policies, which is now Tuesday and Friday, as opposed to daily. I requested a pick-up through the USPS website, which entailed filling out a questionnaire--how many boxes, approximate weight, do you own a dog, should we ring the bell---hit send and received confirmation. This made me feel terrific. No trips to the post office. Just one trip for groceries and the pharmacy and one trip for the Sunday Times. I woke up this morning. The post office never picked up, but I did receive an e-mail calling their pickup "a success." So much for that. So I went out. I had to. First stop, the post office. Three tellers, two in masks, two customers. The streets seemed more like an early Sunday morning than a weekday. Some people with masks, some without. People walking dogs, doing laundry, dragging shopping carts. I was relieved to find a supermarket restocked, for th
Read more

Post #1 — The Fear

I am writing this from my office in our home. The room is about 100 square feet, but right now it is all pretty squished, as about 90 of those feet are taken up by The Fear. I'm about to turn 65. I have no idea if I'll ever be 66. I have five coronary stents, not so great lungs and I soak up germs better than a Bounty paper towel. My instinct tells me if the coronavirus comes by our door, unlike the plagues in the Passover story, it's not going to pass me by. In the meantime, however, we go on in isolation, atop a hill in the country. It's a good place to be if you want to give yourself the best chance to survive. I'm a writer. My sixth book is in a constant state of near completion despite some 40 years of work and research. The story of Alger Hiss and how he was wrongly convicted is my life's work, so there's an urgency to get it done, so if it comes to it I will be able to leave it behind. On the other hand, there's this crippling depression and
Read more