Maybe, Call It Ethyl?

My mother and I don’t talk on a specific schedule. We talk a few times a week at various times of the day. She usually doesn’t call on week days because I’m at work. Usually, I call her on my way home. She sometimes calls late on Saturday or Sunday mornings.

What she doesn’t do, is call on Saturday evenings. When I saw a call from my mom at 5:04 yesterday afternoon, I assumed the worse.

Me: Hey, mom.

Mom: Hey. So, something creepy just happened.

Me: “Call the police” creepy or run of the mill creepy?

Mom: Oh no. Just run of the mill.

I could tell she was out of sorts. Martha is fairly badass. Mostly, unflappable. Still strong like an ox. Not much is going to throw her off. I mean, except one thing.

Mom: You know that lilac bush by the deck in front of the kitchen window?

Me: Yeah?

Mom: There was a snake at eye level. Not a little one. It was probably at least 5 feet long.

Me: Oh, damn.

Me: Mom, you know that snakes are a sign of a healthy yard, right?

Mom: I don’t care.

Me: Mom, it’s going to be fine. It won’t hurt you. It’s just hanging out, doing it’s thing. No worries. If it comes back, just give it a name. Like Ethyl.

Mom: I am not there, Shell.

Me: Talk to it. Tell Ethyl your problems.

Mom: I’m not naming it.

Me: Okay, how about this? When you compare having a completely harmless snake in your lilac bush to all the other bullshit going on right now, it doesn’t seem so bad, right?

Mom: I feel so much better.

Me: Did you hear about Marjorie Taylor Green talking about “fragrant violations?”

Mom: Oh, dear god.

Me: Or how Bill Gates is growing fake meat in “peach tree” dishes?

Mom: You’re making that up.

Me: Nope.

Mom: I guess Ethyl can stay. I guess.

Me: Sign of a healthy yard.

Mom: I hate Ethyl.

I hope you are all staying safe.

 

The Post COVID Cafe

Hello! Welcome to the Post COVID cafe.

We’re so happy to see you. It feels good to finally be able to be around other people while breathing in the little droplets of spit they expel when they exhale, isn’t it?

You got here just in time. We are busy now, but the upcoming rush is going to be a doozy. Fortunately, there’s no wait for a table.

post covid cafe logo

Would you like to sit in the coughing or no coughing section? Not that it really matters.

The coughing section? Have a little tickle in your throat? I understand, so many people do these days.

I’ll let you get seated and return with water, an assortment of vitamins, and pain relievers. Before I go, though, I will tell you about our specials.

We have a lovely Delta variant. This comes with a side of fever and the feeling of having an elephant on your chest.

If you are looking for something a little lighter, we have a lovely little Omicron.

You’ll probably only experience light sniffles for a few days, but some customers lose 2 of their five senses with ongoing fatigue and fogginess for weeks later. Please understand, we cannot guarantee you will experience the more severe range of symptoms.

We also have a BOGO on the BA variants.

Feel free to mix and match. Have a BA 1 and a BA 3. Or just 2 BA 2s. Buy a few for the table and share! Who knows, before you leave, we may have our own BA variant! We’ll be sure to name it after you. I mean, as long as your first name is Ba and your last name is a number.

If COVID isn’t your thing, we are excited to share something new. Well, it’s not new, but Monkey Pox is here! It sounds funny just saying that, doesn’t it? Monkey Pox.

Also, for a short time, we have a flu virus which feels very much like Bubonic plague symptoms. Not the worst of symptoms, of course, but at least you don’t have to get bit by a flea. Or a rat. Or however it is people get the black death.

For our guests who protected their freedom by not wearing a mask or getting vaccinated, we have a wide array of ventilators.

They are going fast, because believe it or not, they are still in demand!

Also, if you ingested horse paste or, haha, maybe drank a little bleach? I would recommend reserving a ventilator today, because eventually, you’re probably going to need one.

For our guests who have done their best to be safe, no worries, we have something for you as well. Especially for those guests who got vaxxed, boosted, and always wore a mask, but got COVID anyway. We have a little laminated card reminding you that you have no idea how badly this actually affected your health! Maybe 10 years from now you’ll have trouble breathing! Or maybe 5!. Who knows, you might be forming blood clots as you read this! There’s just really no way of knowing right now.

Have I had COVID? Oh, honey, I’ve had COVID so many times now that I don’t know if I’m coming or going. I guess the only long term effect is that I see everything in the same shade of blue. But you know what they say, If life gives you a deadly virus, then make believe it doesn’t exist.

Oh, and I would be remiss if I didn’t encourage you to visit our gift shop. One of our best sellers is an urn with a picture of Fauci’s face in a circle with a line through it.

I’ll let you think it over and  leave you with this. Wear a fucking mask. Get the fucking shot. This isn’t over.

 

Well, I guess we are here now

After I get home from work in the evening, Randy and I walk in a cemetery. We park in the same place. We walk the same path.

For years now, we have seen a black truck parked, in the same spot, where a young man works out by his truck. We never spoke to him until Tuesday evening.

About half way through our figure eight walking path, the young man approached us and asked us if we saw an old lady back a ways. We did see her. He told us that he was concerned about her. He talked to her. She seemed overheated and like she was struggling.

We told him that we would circle back and check on her.

She was bent over the grave of a 5 year old girl who died in 1964. I told her that the young man that spoke to her earlier was concerned and I wanted to make sure she was cemetery statueokay. She did look overheated.

She told me that she was taking care of her little sister.

And that she still had to go see her mother, her husband, and her son.

I asked her if she had a car parked nearby and she said she didn’t. She rode the city bus.

She was about as far away as you can get from the cemetery entrance where the bus stop is. It’s a fairly large cemetery and hilly. I asked her if we could give her a lift to the bus stop. She said she would like that, but she still had work to do.

We told her to take her time. We still had a walk to finish and we had nothing pressing to do anyway.

When she finished tending to her graves, we helped her into our car. Randy rode in the back seat.

As we were pulling away, we saw our son Joey walking by. He walks in the cemetery every day as well, but we rarely run into him. He looked at our car a bit confused and waved. We waved back and offered to drive the woman home.

On the drive, she told me about her family and her life. She lived alone. Her husband passed a year ago.

She told me about her children, grandchildren, her son who died, and her daughter who didn’t survive birth.

The drive took less than 15 minutes.

We got to her house and I helped her out of the car. We made sure she got safely inside and made our way home. I told Randy that Joey probably thought we kidnapped an old person.

When we got home, Joey was standing in the kitchen with his arms spread out wide “Are….you guys kidnapping and killing old people?”

I told him that as far as he knew, she got home fine. Which was funny, but later, I thought it would have been funnier to say “I really wish you hadn’t seen that.”

Anyway, I wasn’t going to tell you guys about this because I thought that no matter how I presented it, that it would sound self-congratulatory. Randy begged to differ. He said it was a funny story. He conceded the Joey part was funny. The rest was fairly heartbreaking.

The thing is, I am grateful this happened.

I got a lot from those minutes. For a few minutes, I didn’t feel blinding anger and terror. For a few minutes, I let my thoughts step away from the fact that persons with a working uterus are in peril.

For a few minutes, I stopped thinking about the fact that women will soon have less autonomy than a corpse.

No one can take the organs from a corpse unless the previous occupier of the corpse agrees to that in advance. But women? We’re losing our autonomy.

So many states are planning complete abortion bans.

Women are going to die. It is unfolding now.

I have no doubt we will right this wrong, but I have no idea how long that will take. I didn’t think there was any chance the former guy could have lasted his whole term which happened. Who knows how long we will have to fight this? No matter what, women will die. Or be imprisoned.

I’m not surprised, but suspecting that Roe v. Wade would be overturned didn’t prepare me for the actual event. It’s like when someone you love is slowly dying. You think you are prepared, but you’re never really prepared.

I’m frustrated. I’m terrified when I see pro-choice people on social media saying “Maybe just accept Susan Collins bill where most abortion is legal, just not late term with some medical exceptions.”

That’s already what we have. And no one has to lose any rights.

No late term abortions are being performed on a healthy, viable fetus. That’s not a thing.

Late term abortions are usually traumatic and devastating because parents are losing a child they wanted. Why do we have to take away a person’s autonomy for something that isn’t fucking happening?

We should not compromise.

Not one bit. They do not get to take any rights. We will fight subjugation.

If we compromise, even a little, we’ll lose everything. If we compromise, these psychopaths will exploit that. We cannot compromise.

Also, I suggest that everyone pick up a few pregnancy tests and Plan B. I’m sure most of us know at least someone with a working uterus. They might need them in the near future.

For all that is holy, pay in cash. Don’t let them track you and turn you into a criminal.

If you know of anyone who uses an application to track their menstrual cycles, suggest that they stop immediately. Don’t order sanitary supplies online. Pay in cash when you do buy them.

This is not hyperbole. This is coming to pass.

We have to take care of each other.

If you get a chance to do something nice for someone, I promise you, you will feel better.

At least, for a few minutes.