The Era of Masks and Stand Offs

In the Land of Covid 19, the strange virus that swooped over from, as far as we know, and I'm not being racist, Wuhan China, we must adjust. The Idiot Guy in the White House keeps calling it China's fault, on and on. Because they sold bats at an open air market, and the bats were infected, then one person spread it over the entire world by passing it along.

Now we're sequestered, hiding out, because we can't breathe on one another. It's true, the virus spreads easily and millions of people are dying. It sounds like a futuristic, dystopian novel, but it's our lives.

Wearing masks and standing six feet apart is the best policy. But, wait, there are people who scream that wearing a mask infringes on their freedoms, and it's a violation of the Constitution. Really? I never heard one thing about being asked to save others from infection violates my rights. And our Founding Fathers actually addressed this in the Constitution?

Our Ignoble President insists that wearing a mask is beyond him since the virus is a hoax, and will disappear like a miracle. He ignored it too long, and now we're swamped with cases.

States shut down businesses and schools. Then people screamed their businesses would fail (which is true for the little guy). But the stimulus package passed by Congress and Senate, went to Big Business, who didn't need it.

People are protesting, gathering together, breathing on one another, especially the Lemmings who follow the Ignoble Prez. Why is it a political issue to want to save lives? To Repubs it's a hoax, to the Dems it's a pandemic. I've never seen such insanity.

My husband and I are in the Danger Zone, too, comingling with our granddaughters who take gymnastics and soccer.

Health care workers are deluged with patients, the sickest having to go on ventilators. So many deaths. Trump insists on crazy solutions, such as injecting bleach. His Cultists believe him. Can't these people Fact-Check; stop hanging on the Devil's every word, what's the matter with our country?

Will we read about this years from now and say, "It couldn't have happened that way, what an exaggeration. You're lying!"?

Diane Parkinson writing as Diane Scott Lewis lives in Western PA (under duress) It's damned cold there.
Her website about her books and nothing to do with this blog: Dianescottlewis

Can I be Honest?

Why do people jump on you for making comments that they call complaints? They want everything Sunshine and Lollipops, instead of discussing what is really happening. Or they just want to dismiss you altogether. All I want is a voice.

My mother wanted me to 'shade' everything so she could continue wearing her Rose-colored glasses. As a result, we had no heart to heart talks and I had no emotional support. But Mom is another post for the future.

Don't people understand that they're selfish if they don't allow their loved ones to unburden? I don't care if people unburden to me. I encourage them to, because I know how it is to be Cut Down for saying the unvarnished truth. Sometimes we just need to vent. We need someone to understand our pain, and give a pat on the back. I promise one in return.

Men are especially bad about this. They can tease and ridicule, but don't you dare speak the truth back. You're a bitch for being open and honest.

I used to love the late comedian, Joan Rivers, who'd say "Can we talk?" Then she'd spew out hilarious comments on the current events or daily life. Some would call it vitriol, but I loved it. "Am I wrong?!"

I always seem to be a member of this club:

Those sensitive souls (I say with gritted teeth) want to live in the clouds and ignore how anyone else feels.

I like my old girlfriends, we knew how to vent! Then we'd laugh and hug, too. You can do both. No hiding under the veneer of perfection and lies. Give your friends, and me, an outlet to vent! It's cathartic.
We also giggle, talk of movies, books, and our youthful indiscretions and peccadillos. We do it all!
Let's tongue-in-cheek, rail at the world, then hug tightly, and feel the love and support.

Diane Parkinson writing as Diane Scott Lewis lives in Western PA (under duress) It's damned cold there.
Her website about her books and nothing to do with this blog: DianeScottLewis