Overheard at Booth 1: The True Virus

... and when they looked back on those fateful times, they realized that the physical virus was not the true killer, but the mental virus.   THAT was the virus that rotted the mind and brittled the soul, until there was nothing left of the human animal but confusion and blind rage.

Overheard at Booth 4: Water for Corona

When my wife came down with COVID, I decided that I was gonna prevent it by staying hydrated.

What the ...

Yeah!  I said to myself I'm gonna drink so much water it'll be coming out of every pore!

Isn't that called "sweating"

You know what I mean.

Overheard at Table 2: COVID and the Water

Wife's got COVID but I keep testing negative.  I think it's the water.

Water?

Yeah, I keep drinking water.  So much water.  Keeps the system running.  I swear I'm just going to keep drinking water until it comes out of every pore!

Isn't that called "sweating"

You know what I mean.

Overheard at Booth 3: MonkeyPox

Wife: What do you know about Monkeypox?

Husband: New virus, has a vaccine but no one wants to take it (thanks to all the misinfo over the past few years), not strictly an STD but is transmitted by close intimate contact, skin to skin.  You and I should be OK, because we're only intimate with each other.

Wife: Yeah ... well, about that...

Overheard at Table 2: In Future Years ...

I.  Scene: An old man and a young boy around a campfire

Granpa, what was the world like when you were my age?

Well, the world was consumed by two deadly viruses: one destroyed your lungs, and the other destroyed your mind.

But people survived the viruses, right?

Well kid, if we had, we wouldn't be living in this cave, now would we?

II.  Scene: An old man and a young boy around a campfire, in a cave.   Voices can be heard from outside the cave entrance, a short distance below

HEY!  We know yew all 're up there, Libs!  Come on down, now.  Don't make us come up thar 'n gitcha!

Overheard at Table 4: Customer Service, or Nah?

It STILL amazes me that, for a country whose entire economy depends upon service, and after just having come out of TWO YEARS of lockdowns and disruptions in service jobs, that we STILL get crappy customer service: cashiers who act like you interrupting their precious phone time, baristas who look like they want to be home listening to music, hell, the woman at the store where I just got my glasses SIGHED audibly when I asked her to adjust the frames.  Dude at the phone store didn't even want to help me get my new phone set up to make sure it was working before I left.

I mean, I'm not a Karen, and I'm not looking for people to kiss my butt, but heck, man, let's have some basic customer service here.  At least people who TRY to help and don't act all put out when you ask them to do their jobs!

Overheard at Booth 1: Murder Tree Returns

Murder Tree Returns

One of the few good things to come out of that pandemic year was the chance to reconnect with some of my old high school buddies.  Decades had passed and several of us now had kids the same age we were when we all hanging out, dreaming of getting out and leaving our hometown far behind us. 

The text chain was a real lifeline.  Most of the others had been on it for a few years before they found me, and I got to catch up and see our wonderful diaspora from our Midwest origins across the whole of America: Seattle, San Diego, Houston, Chicago, Newark, DC, and elsewhere.  I got to see pictures of places I’d normally never get to see.

Then, the first of October, Doug posted a picture and called it “MURDER TREE RETURNS” and all the others chimed in how great it looked this year and how it was always one of their favorite starts to the season.  The tree was in the front yard, looked like some sort of conifer with greenery to the ground, stretching to a point in the top.  It was lit with strings of lights, looked purplish, like a bruise, with deep beet red patches.  Looking closer, I could make out what appeared to be bones for tree limbs, and parts that looked like hands, and feet, and … heads.  There were definitely heads, propped among the flora, eyes closed, mouths open in a silent scream.  Some were bare skulls, but one still had a face.

A face that looked familiar, from a long time ago.

I shot Doug a DM.  That’s a cool tree, man.  That one head kinda looks like Nick Bly.

A few hours later, Doug texted back: Yeah! Actually, it IS Nick. 

Great art!

No.  I mean it’s him.  Sonuvabitch rammed my car one Friday after a Homecoming game and drove off and never paid for how he fucked up my rear end.   Finally found him in Dallas in 2017.

That’s hilarious, man.  Love how you got the story going there.

Tree’s full of stories.   Look at the top.  The bone there, holding up the star, that’s Asleigh Moore.   Bitch said she’d go to Junior prom with me.  Stood me up.  Now she’s standing up, for the MURDER TREE.  Bwahahahahaha!  [he added laughing emojis]

I have to admit, I still thought he might be joking.  Kinda.  This was really making me uncomfortable.  I mean, how do you respond to something like this?  So I wrote back:  Dude, are you saying these are ACTUAL people you MURDERED?  [and I added some emoji that I hoped would look like a quizzical face but I think it’s the one that looks like it’s shushing you.  I’m not really good at this].

It was the next day when Doug texted back.  Yes.  That’s what I’m saying.  Look down at the lower left part of the tree.  There’s a rib cage.  Let me know when you find it.

I found it.  I think I did.  I had to expand the picture but yes, it did look like a human rib cage.  I texted a thumbs up emoji.

He texted back immediately:  That’s Jerry Melua

I texted: Whos that?

Doug DUDE!  You don’t remember?!  You had written this fkn BEAUTIFUL poem to Tracie Gallagher cuz youd had a crush on her since 7^th grade!  Dude stole your poem wrote it in his handwriting and gave it to her and went out with her for the rest of the year.  You don’t remember that?

Oh YEAH!  [I now remembered]  That guy was a total DICK!

You wouldn’t believe it.  Just happened to run into him in Buffalo just before the pandemic hit.   I remembered what he did to you.  He had to go.  That one’s for you, man.  Hey you still writing?

Of course

I remember you were always writing.  All the time.  You loved writing about all kinds of shit.  Hey, it’s cool if you write about this.  Just make sure you change the names, OK?

It took me a long time to respond.  I kept re-reading his message, trying to find if there was anything in there that should really make me scared.  I was scared.  Can’t deny.  Still am.  Kinda.  But finally, I just texted back: Thanks, man!

He texted back a thumbs up and that emoji with the smiling face with sunglasses, which I take to mean “It’s cool.”

So, this story is dedicated to my buddy, Doug Graves.   And for any law enforcement agency who is even thinking about trying to track down a serial killer, he does not – I repeat NOT – live in New Hampshire.

 

 

Overheard at Table 3: Singles and the COVID Drought

Lucky Moran: Sometimes on Twitter, when there are a few ladies who talk about not having had sex in months or years ...

Otis Redwing: Oh yeah, that COVID drought... really hit the singles hard.

Lucky: ...sometimes, part of me, as a gentleman, you know, I want to offer my services.  But then, I think to myself, that'd be unfair.  I mean, I'm a lousy lay, and it's unfair for someone's first time back in the saddle to be such a horrible disappointment.

Otis: That ... and you've got a wife.

Lucky: That too ... I mean, at this age, I've only got enough energy to disappoint ONE woman, y'know.

Otis: Apparently I do know.  Now.

Overheard at Table 3: The Year of Wearing Masks

The Year of Wearing Masks


Oh, how I loved you in the year of wearing masks!
That was the year when you showed me you loved me,
You did not want to sicken me, nor I to sicken you,
or your children, or my children, or their children, and

as well, when you wore your masks and when I wore mine,
we were a little less strangers then, for, while we
could not see each other smile as we passed by
in the grocery store, we introduced ourselves through

our choice of masks, whether it be a tartan plaid, or
a Hello Kitty print, or “I Can’t Breathe,” or the cover of
Pink Floyd’s Animals.  There were bold statements, like:
Peace!, Freedom!, MAGA!  There were Joker grins,

Rolling Stones tongues, there were simple black, stripes
of all kinds, there were American flags, Texas flags,
there were pictures of mountain ranges, or monster trucks,
slogans such as “Let’s do this!” and even “Everything sucks!”

It was the year of wearing masks, when we finally,
wore our personalities across our faces, and we
were a little less strangers then, you and I, and we
knew each other, even though we had never exchanged a word.

 

 

MR

2021-0812

 

Overheard at Table 2: The Offspring "Come Out and Play" reprise

Saw an article today that The Offspring has dumped their drummer from an upcoming tour for not getting vaccinated, so I've re-written the lyrics to the song "Come Out and Play"

https://www.loudersound.com/news/the-offspring-fire-drummer-pete-parada-for-refusing-to-get-covid-19-vaccine

Come Out and Play

You gotta keep 'em separated

Like the latest fashion
Like a spreading disease
The kids are strappin' on their way to the classroom
Getting weapons with the greatest of ease
The gangs stake their own campus locale
And if they catch you slippin' then it's all over pal
If one guys colors and the others don't mix
They're gonna bash it up

Hey - man you talkin' back to me?
Take him out
You gotta keep 'em separated
Hey - man you disrespecting me?
Take him out
You gotta keep 'em separated
Hey they don't pay no mind
If you're under 18 you won't be doing any time
Hey, come out and play

By the time you hear the siren
It's already too late
One goes to the morgue and the other to jail
One guy's wasted and the other's a waste
It goes down the same as the thousand before
No one's getting smarter
No one's learning the score
Your never ending spree of death and violence and hate
Is gonna tie your own rope

Chorus

It goes down the same as the thousand before
No one's getting smarter
No one's learning the score
Your never ending spree of death and violence and hate
Is gonna tie your own rope

Chorus








This is the Way

You gotta get ‘em vaccinated

It’s the latest fashion
All this COVID disease
The kids are coughin’ on their way to the classroom
Getting COVID with the greatest of ease
QAnon stakes its own campus locale
And if they catch you vaxxin’ then it's all over pal
If we know reality and MAGA don't mix
We’re gonna vax it up vax it up vax it up!

Hey - man you talkin' back to me?
Take him out
You gotta get ‘em vaccinated 
Hey - man you coughing over me?
Take him out
You gotta get ‘em vaccinated 
Hey they don't pay no mind
If you're over 18 you can vax at any time
Hey, this is the way!

By the time you get vented
It's already too late
You’re going to the morgue and your family wails
Another life wasted because their brain is debased
You go down the same as 500 thousand before
MAGAs getting dumber
Q’s rotten to the core
Evangelical pastors spewing sermons of hate
They’re gonna tie their own rope tie their own rope

Chorus

You go down the same as half a million before
MAGAs getting dumber
Q’s rotten to the core
Evangelical pastors spewing sermons of hate
They’re gonna tie their own rope tie their own rope

Chorus

Hey hey, then you can go out and play!

Overheard at Table 5: School Mask Mandate

Clara:  I'm just gonna take my kid out of school.

Marta: Why?

Clara: They're putting in a mask mandate. 

Shelba: Those Socialist bastards!

Marta: But it'll stop the COVID spread.

Clara: The school can't tell me how to raise my child.

Shelba: ... and masks don't work anyway.  I know a person who wore TWO masks and still got COVID.

Marta: Well, my kid has autism and is also prone to infection, so if everyone wears a mask, he'll be protected from possibly catching it.

Clara: Well my kid has autism too and he can't function if anything take away his personal liberty.  He can't wear a mask or he'll have a panic attack and become uncontrollably violent.

Shelba: And my kid has autism and if she can't see other kids' faces, she can't work on her social cues.   

Clara: Your friend who got COVID, is she better now?

Shelba: Oh yeah, she's fine.

Marta:  That's good.

Shelba: Yeah.  She gave it to her husband though and he died.

Clara: Oh, sorry to hear that.

Shelba: It's OK.  He was all for the mask mandates in school.

Clara: Ah!  A Socialist.

Shelba: Looks like.

Marta: Was he autistic as well?

Overheard at Table 3: Oppositional Defiant Disorder

"So when are you gonna start bringing your people back into the office?  Once they all get vaccinated?"

"I'd like to as soon as possible, yeah, but I know one that I can't.  Her son has ODD."

"Oppositional Defiant Disorder?"

"Yeah.  12 years old.  Last week he stabbed his sister with a shard of glass.  Now my employee says they can't be left alone together, or with someone else."

"Kids these days."

"No foolin'!"

Overheard at Table 4: Don't Wanna Get COVID

1: One guy at work is out with COVID. In the hospital.

2: That sucks.  Hope he'll be OK.

1: Hope so too.   You know, I sure do NOT wanna get COVID.  Because I just know if I do, I'll probably be one of those cases where they'll have to put me on a ventilator and on those blood machines that sucks your blood out, pumps oxygen into, and pumps it back into you, and then three weeks later they'll bring me out of the drug-induced coma and my wife will be standing over me and the first thing she'll say is "I FOUND YOUR PORN!"

2: ... sounds like if you go under, you just better not come back out.

1: Oh for certs.

Overheard at Table 1: Tepid Anomaly

Chicago, February 1, 2021

He looks out the window of their condo on the fourth and top floor across the city.  The lake, barely visible on the other side of the four blocks of homes and buildings much like this one.  His daughter, 10 years old, so excited to be going back to school today.  He'll have to tell her that today is not the day.

The news, the teachers, refusing.  The mayor, imploring.  Threatening to cut off their internet access so they can't even teach remotely.  Another year lost of her learning.

His wife, purse across shoulder and work heels clicking across the hardwood, leaves through the front door, without looking in his direction, much less a word goodbye.  He watches her walk down the steps, where he knows in her small office she will find some sense of accomplishment on this day.

He takes a deep breath, then logs into his work.  The clouds will break later in the morning, and there will be some sunlight that will drift in through the window.

Overheard at the Counter: And So It Ends...

 and so it ends, this miserable year, and we are left wondering how this will be treated in the history books.  Will 300,000 dead have their eulogies?  Will the meanderings of the flaccid politicians be endlessly discussed?  Will the poets have their say?  What will be the final verdict upon our rampantly dissolute culture?

And who is going to get their "I SURVIVED 2020" t-shirt?  

Overheard at Table 2: End of the Year

1: Thank God this year is almost over.

2: Yeah, because we all know that COVID will magically disappear on January 1st.

1: Actually, that's on January 20th.   

2: Good one.  Yes, on January 20th, there will be a vaccine, COVID will disappear, the economy will improve, everyone will have jobs, and Brexit will be a done deal.

1: Brexit?  Now you're just moving in the realm of fantasy!

Overread at Booth 2: Poem "Cruelty is the Point"

 

Cruelty is the Point

 

Cruelty is the point, the sneer,

the meme, the desire that your babies

would never have been born.

 

They call you stupid, they call you sheeple,

they call you subpar humans, they call

you worthless,

 

for what?

For wearing a mask in a pandemic.

For wanting clean water for all humans.

For wanting police to stop leaving black bodies

                Dead on American streets,

 

They want to know how long they

have to put up with you, but that’s OK,

they are happy enough just to call you

DemoRAT, shitlib, cuck, scum, dog, animal,

Cockroach, Libtard, deMONrat,

 

did I miss anything?

 

No matter … here they come …

MR

2020-1204