Today is damp and cloudy and cooler than I expected. My back is a bit better, but I doubt I’ll go out. I’ll shower, my concession to cleanliness, and I’ll probably read, my nod to literacy. I have a slew (pile? bunch? bevy?) of new books I’ve downloaded. I have Plenty of dog and cat food. I have a freezer full of human food. I have a bag of lemon Oreos.
When I was a kid, being quarantined, for even the two weeks, would have been torment for us and for my mother. I think my father would have found his way around it and gone to work. He was a salesman for a tobacco wholesale company. Essential? Maybe? The TV would have been on all day into the night. I think we would have run out of stuff to do in a couple of days. We would have whined and begged my mother to let us out. She would have been frustrated to the point of yelling. My father would have never worn a mask.
I Love cheeseburgers. I love hot dogs. My freezer has plenty of both. I don’t use ketchup on either. It would be sacrilege to use it on a hot dog, and I use mayo on my burger. My French fries get ketchup. My onion rings get salt. I am open as to the kind of cheese on my burger. The rolls must be toasted.
I don’t hear a sound from outside. I don’t even hear a car. The branches and leaves are still. My house is quiet. The two cats and the dog are having their morning naps, but were I to rustle paper, Henry and Jack would rush downstairs thinking a human treat to be shared. They’d be disappointed.
I like looking at the background rooms of the houses of people who are remotely on TV. Some rooms are ugly. Some wallpaper is scary. One kitchen was huge and monochromatic, white. I like the cluttered rooms. They have personality. I like Seth Meyers’ Thorn Birds and Jimmy Kimmel’s Aunt Chippy with the foul mouth whom Jimmy loves to punk. I like Jimmy Fallon’s slide and Stephen Colbert’s drinks. Colbert really does need a haircut that is unless he is hoping for a man bun.