COVID-19

I’m doing okay with my world. As I’ve heard many working writers say, for us, things haven’t changed much. I enjoy the birds chirping as I drink my morning coffee, have a quick walk on country roads and then go to my home computer and try to be creative. Same old same old. I will say, one nice thing about virtual writers-group meetings is that, since I’m not driving anywhere, I can have a nice glass of wine while we talk books, etc. Always accentuate the positive!

How about you? I know things are vastly rougher for a lot of folks, but hang in there. My father grew up in the Depression and sometimes a slice of bread with white flour gravy was what they had for dinner. Not because they couldn’t afford anything else, but because there wasn’t anything else to buy. Fear of want colored the rest of his life and sometimes his fear affected my life. We will not let this happen again. This country and its people are too strong. Together we will figure out new ways to cope.

Among other projects, I took a break to write a 100-word story from this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Click on the link to read her great story. Meanwhile:

Sharon pulled her coat tight around her and stared at the still water in the city fountain. When she left the station, she’d simply picked a direction to walk. But instead of bars and hotels, she’d found dark office towers and shuttered government buildings. Life’s big question: keep walking nowhere? Or return to nothing?

She jumped when rainbow colors suddenly lit up the square. The still water, set free, danced high in joyous leaps. A city worker at the control module grinned and threw up his arms as if to say, “What better place than here?”

She laughed and agreed.

Feel like joining in? Click on the froggie, read other writers’ stories, comment, and then post your own! We promise to be gentle.

After the coronavirus grabbed everyone’s attention, my first question was, “Is diarrhea a symptom of COVID 19?” No? Then WTH?

Throughout history, when a pandemic struck, or war or famine, people worried about shortages of food, water, medicine, or even blankets. Here in 2020 America, we are scared shitless (pun intended) of running out of TOILET PAPER?

I wonder if it’s all a symptom of raising kids who have never wanted for anything, and I mean anything. Kids who refuse to sit in the car without NetFlix or their preferred mode of texting or at least an X-Box. Who refuse to learn how to cook fish over a fire at camp and want to know why they can’t just order pizza . . . delivered. Kids who want to go to the store and buy more clothes if the washer breaks down. People who call off work because their car broke down and taking the bus requires them to get out of bed half an hour earlier, and that’s obviously cruel and unusual.

And saying this is all a symptom of my age, I’m sure. I walked miles to school, only got three gifts for Christmas and made them last a year, blah, blah, blah. Actually we boomers had it pretty good. Good enough to spend our time getting politically involved and making a nuisance of ourselves. But we did care about someone other than ourselves. Okay, when Mom told us about the “poor children in Africa”, we suggested sending our leftover broccoli casserole, but still, sometimes I think we hippies took the concept “share” to another level.

My mother also told me of shortages during World War II. Women wore shorter skirts and drew lines up the back of their bare legs to simulate nylon stockings. When things got tougher, they worked out how to grow food in backyards and take it to people who didn’t have a backyard. After it was over, the American government dropped food (and toilet paper?) to the people we’d defeated. Thirty years later my friends and I packed up stuff like toilet paper and sent it to soldiers in Vietnam. And then did it again for soldiers in Kuwait.

It’s hard not to throw my hands up in despair. What on earth do today’s Americans think they’re going to do if there are ever any real shortages? This isn’t World War III, kids, but if it ever comes to that, I don’t think I’ll want to depend on people who absolutely can’t imagine life without toilet paper.