Christmas is coming and looking around the city’s parks, empty school playgrounds, empty golf courses, highway mediums, etc., the geese are certainly getting fat so go drop a penny in some old man’s hat. The geese here don’t even bother to travel any further south because pickin’s here are pretty good so why strain your wings? They are also unaware of the pandemic and that life has changed. This, for some of us, will be a Christmas like we’ve never experienced before. We won’t be with our families and friends because we or they are part of the “ vulnerable” population and don’t want to be part of what is causing the new infection numbers to swell. Personally, I couldn’t live with myself if I unwittingly infected someone who then died or if I then died or my husband. So, we will spend the day with our puppy, each other and holiday movies.

     Our wedding anniversary is December 31, our 27th I think. We’ll be celebrating less the passing of the years together than the end of 2020. I feel safe saying it hasn’t been a great year for a lot of us. I’m sure there have been bright, shiny moments. We’ve had some terrific ones: the birth of twin grandsons, unexpected acts of kindness and generosity, more frequent connection with family if only through phone calls, pictures and zooms. One of the best gifts my husband and I have been given are multiple pictures of the twins who we met when they were only a month old but are now starting to walk. We’ve been able to watch them grow and develop albeit remotely.

      One thing that stands out to me is my feeling that we must learn something from all that has and is happening. I believe we have to learn from difficult times or we will “be doomed to repeat them” or else go through life oblivious to the world and those around us. And though I am on the definite downhill side of the mountain, I believe I can still learn new things. I recently heard you can teach old dogs new tricks so I have hope.

     If nothing else, this last year (the last four really) has forced me to look at myself more clearly. I have had some pretty unattractive reflections coming back from my inner mirror. I can be judgmental, making flash decisions about others without stopping to think they have their own story, their own issues. At first I was kind of appalled by the tearing down of the statuary around the country but when I stopped to hear/read the reasons behind the removals, I realized there were good reasons to bring them down. What those statues represented was aggrandizement of those who took part in oppressing others. We should all educate ourselves about the history of our country. All the the history, not just what is represented in the best possible light. Putting up statuary as “payment” in some quid quo pro scenario doesn’t seem like the honor it’s supposed to be. History should be factual and honest, warts and all. I bet I’m smart enough to make my own decisions about what to feel about some historic event. I can discern who was on the right side or wrong side all by myself.

     I’ve learned to be grateful for everything. By many standards, we either don’t have a lot or we have too much. We certainly have more than many others do. We haven’t had to resort to food banks (yet) but “there by the grace of God…” My heart aches for those who must utilize food banks for the first time to be able to feed their families because they have lost their jobs due to the pandemic. We have a home to wait out this whole thing in. Too many are facing foreclosure or eviction. They will be spending the holiday in a shelter or hotel if they’re lucky; on the street if they aren’t. They aren’t homeless because they’re lazy or don’t want to work. They had no choice. It has changed my perception of homelessness forever.

      Our electric range of 14? years bit the dust last week. We won’t be able to get a new one until at least February or April next year (can you say pandemic?). Long story. We can still use the burners and we have an Instapot. Our outdoor grill crashed at the end of the summer so we replaced it with an indoor one. We can survive; it will be an adventure. We’ll learn how to cook differently. We don’t go to the grocery store except for pick up but, thankfully, we can still do that. There are too many who can’t. Too many children who depended on meals at school who aren’t getting those now. These kids are trying to understand what the pandemic has taken from them–school, friends, family. Now they are also trying to understand not having a home as well. I’m going to make a concerted effort to give to food banks all year round in gratitude for all we have. Having a dinner table to sit and enjoy a meal together in a nice warm home with a crazy, funny puppy we are truly fortunate. And each and every day I will try to be more mindful of the needs of others.

      Not being able to see faces changes perceptions of who people are. We ventured out a couple of times to restaurants this summer when the infection numbers were low. It was weird and very sad. One place had taken out a lot of tables to assure adequate distancing. It was our favorite Mexican restaurant and we went there at least a couple of times a month before COVID. I actually cried because it was so weird and a little scary. The waitpersons in both places were wearing masks so you couldn’t see the expressions on their faces. It made for a sad time. We haven’t done it again and won’t until we get the all clear. I’ve learned smiling, saying something kind, being kind goes a long way toward showing people we are all the same, in the same boat. No matter what, we have to get through this together and be kind to each other in the process, always. Regardless of what people have been trying to do for the last four years, we really are a lot more alike than different. Our problems are the same. Being kind is the best possible attitude to have, for everyone. Working against each other will never be a solution to anything.

     We are going to have a quiet Christmas. I usually have three trees-small ones but this year we’re doing just one. I love Christmas trees; decorating them, turning all the lights out but the ones on the tree then getting lost in the beauty. This year (actually the last four years) has worn me out and I’m finding it hard to get enthused for a big To Do. But I’m grateful to be able to do whatever we do. I’m grateful for my family. I’ll think about those family members and friends who are sick and hope for their full recovery. I’ll pray that 2021 is a much better year but continue to be patient, wear my mask and keep my distance from those I would rather be hugging until we get that shot.

     Mostly, I’m grateful to be going through this with my best friend. The one that makes me laugh all the time, who tolerates my moods, my sorrows, cooks when my back aches, takes up the slack when I’m tired of trying to figure out what to order from the grocery store, watches Hallmark movies and likes to binge-watch as much as I do. And mostly, loves me when I’m not very lovable. I honestly don’t know what I would do without his kind heart and friendship. This is the one thing I didn’t have to learn, when you pick a life partner, be sure you pick the right one. You never know when the next chaotic crisis might happen.

     So, what’s important to you? What has this last year taught you? What will you carry forward? Be sure to make it something positive and mindful of others.

     Something has been bugging me. After President Obama left office, someone made the comment that if he were being graded on his time in office he would get an “F”. I absolutely didn’t agree but kept my mouth shut. Arguments like that don’t solve anything and usually end with hurts that cannot be mended. But the comment has been bothering me off and on all this time. While President Obama certainly doesn’t need me to defend him or his record, I will feel better if I have my say so maybe I’ll stop having to think about why I didn’t speak up.

     The day after Mr. Obama was sworn in, Mitch McConnell and some others met and vowed that “We will make sure Obama is a one term president.” If I hadn’t seen video with those words coming from McConnell’s mouth, I’m not sure I would have (nor would I want to have) believed it. But I saw the video. Republicans in the senate made the conscious decision to obstruct ANY changes Mr. Obama wanted to make. Interpret that any way you like. At first, I hoped it wasn’t race based but as the last four years have unfolded, I’m not as sure. Every time the current president refused to denounce white supremacists and nationalists after their deplorable acts and the Republican leadership refused to excoriate  him for his action-or lack of action-I became even more unsure. I suppose trump can be excused (?) because he was raised by a father who was arrested at a KKK rally. He really doesn’t hide his prejudices, not if you are paying attention. So, McConnell’s obstructions made each change a steep, uphill struggle but President Obama didn’t stop trying.

     In light of what has been happening lately with George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and too many others, we need to stop and think how much courage it took to decide to run for president as the first black candidate. I actually thought about it at the time; that there were (and are) people in this country who will delude themselves that assassination is a higher calling. When the Obamas accepted the party’s nomination at the convention here in Colorado, they walked out on stage as fireworks went off. Michelle Obama visibly ducked and pulled her daughter close. She was only startled momentarily and regrouped quickly but in that moment I understood what possibly becoming public figures was going to mean to this particular family. Always worrying about someone with crazy ideas.

     I recently saw Mr. Obama interviewed. He’s written a book about his time as president. The interviewer asked what was most frustrating about being president and while I’m paraphrasing his answer, he said it was going into the office wanting to accomplish definite things and having to realize that change, any change, takes time. Certainly longer than he anticipated and much of what he wanted to do-what any president wants to do-doesn’t get done because others have their own agendas, their own projects. As a result, many of the things President Obama wanted to do didn’t get done and too many black people felt let down. But none more than he did.

     In another recent interview, the interviewer asked Mr. Obama about Michelle who wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the run for the presidency. She wasn’t sold on such a public life for herself or her children. But she stepped up and became a wonderful First Lady. She was involved, took up childhood nutrition, treated all around her with respect, especially children. The Obamas showed amazing compassion to families of shootings victims, service men and women and so many others. A highlight of my Christmas is seeing HGTV’s program showing the holiday decorating of the White House each year. Michelle Obama was very involved in planning the theme each year. (She would never have said “F#*% Christmas”, even if she thought it which I’m sure she never would have.) The former president was asked what it was like after being President and First Lady. He said for Michelle she felt she could finally relax and be herself. She felt she was always being scrutinized. That her every action was being watched and judged. I can’t begin to imagine how either one of them felt during those eight years. Every move, every decision, every word and action being watched, criticized, judged or second guessed. And not privately but as a sound bite on the news. Fodder for the other party to condemn. Add to that the constant potential for assassination. The job is already stressful but those added worries make it seem untenable, at best. But they did it with grace, dignity, compassion, intelligence and courage.

     Since trump took office he has or has tried to repeal anything President Obama did during his time in office just because it was Obama. Gay rights, health insurance during a pandemic, opening protected federal land (including National Park lands) to fossil fuel exploration and too much more to list. If you love your National Parks, imagine them filled with pump jacks pumping away. Emission repeals that fill the air with crap that makes it hard to breathe and smog to compete with China’s, adding significantly to Global Warming. Trump’s motivation for most of what he did and is still doing is to line his and his cronies pockets. The first presidency for profit.

     I wouldn’t take a job where my co-workers were always working against me. Where my life or the lives of my family could be in jeopardy. Where my every action is scrutinized and judged. But Barrack Obama took that job knowing it wouldn’t be easy but the pull of public service was stronger than personal considerations. That being the first person of color would change this country in positive ways not before even imagined. His selfless act made it possible for women, LGBTQ persons, anyone of color to not only try but succeed at becoming the president.

     So would I give his presidency a grade of “F”? No. I think he accomplished more than he imagined, less than he wanted to but certainly a lot to take pride in. Besides, it’s not my place to grade or judge anyone.

     I don’t have or even use someone else’s cellphone. I don’t want a cellphone and don’t anticipate ever changing my mind in that regard. There are plenty of reasons. I hate (or used to) going to a restaurant and seeing table after table filled with families or friends all with their heads bowed, not in prayer but glued to their cellphones. They don’t interact with each other, preferring instead to “ catch up” with others who aren’t there. They miss spending time with those present. And as I age, I find it impossible to see pictures of children, weddings, birthdays, graduations, etc. on those tiny little screens. Especially if we’re outside and the glare from the sun completely obscures the screen turning it into a blank silver square. Then there’s the ring tones meant to individualize your phone’s summons from some one else’s (depending on what’s trending), but they end up sounding exactly alike so everyone has to pull out their phone to determine whose is actually ringing. Hey, there’s also speaking so loudly we all hear about uncle Ted’s prostate exam or aunt Tilly’s polyps. TMI! But there is one function I semi-agree with, the camera.

     Having a camera with you all the time seems kind of cool. You are always prepared to catch baby’s first steps or grandma’s reunion with a long lost sibling or returning armed service personnel. Those heart-warming moments we don’t want to miss or lose. But here’s what might be a downside. Note, I said might be a downside because it’s certainly how you choose to feel about it. Again, note I said you’ll choose what you feel.

     Everyone has a cellphone or it seems as if they do. This is what that may mean for all of us. No matter what you do, someone might be capturing it on their cellphone camera then sending it to the cloud or posting to social media. They are seizing those moments of generosity and kindness and brilliance. The quiet moments of nurturing and the loud ones of celebration. The times we connect with each other; the beginnings and, sometimes, the endings. Events we share with families and friends.

     But it also means someone may ALWAYS be watching you. Always recording what you do or say. The phones record the stupid things we do and say that we often end up regretting. They provide evidence of our stupidity, racial biases, homophobias, acts of violence, lying, cheating and other equally terrible actions. It’s hard to deny guilt when there’s a permanent record in the cloud, forever. Hard to invent an alibi when there is pictorial or video proof, crystal clear and available to be seen anytime, anywhere.

     So these cameras have led me to wonder, when will we learn? When we treat people disrespectfully, assault people, threaten, lie to, cheat on or be hateful to people why do we think no one will know? Or see? Or hear? It’s not like BP ( before phones). Someone may be taking a picture or recording a video then posting it to social media platforms. So wake up! Stop believing you can get away with appalling behavior. But why should you get away with it anyway? Doesn’t matter who you are or where or what the circumstances are. Stop it! We all should just be kinder. We should try to understand and relate to one another. We should realize we are more alike than we are different. Otherwise others won’t just think we’re morons, nincompoops, simpletons, bullies or twits; they’ll have videos and pictures to prove it. Are you ready for the world to know who you really are?

Suffering – noun   the state of a person or thing that suffers.

Often sufferings. Something suffered by a person or a group of people; pain.

     I am suffering. I imagine you are too. My wish is that your suffering isn’t too horrible and that things will get better for you soon. Of course there are degrees of suffering and each of us handles our “bad” times differently. Some internalize, some rant and rave, some try to find deeper meaning in it. Some point fingers and search desperately to identify where the blame belongs. I’m a firm believer in doing whatever (short of harming others) helps you get through it to that other, brighter side.

     I’ve been having trouble understanding why we don’t seem to be able to suspend our lives for whatever time it takes for us to get through this pandemic. It’s a sacrifice, for sure. It’s a hardship, absolutely. It’s disruptive and complicated and discouraging. But mostly, it’s necessary. It’s imperative. If you are a human being, it’s an obligation we all owe for enjoying the privilege of living in these United States.

     I’ve been reminded these last several months of the sacrifices everyone made during the Second World War from scrap metal drives to help build ships and planes and armaments to rationing flour, sugar and meat to giving up nylon stockings. I’m sure people complained but we were a nation united working for a common goal. Every sacrifice was somehow aiding the war effort. The effort made by each person was personal. Nothing “given up” was more important than knowing it was helping someone’s husband or wife or sister or brother or son or daughter to come home safely. However I’ve also come to the realization that too much time has passed between those events and these. Many seniors will remember what it was like but I only know about it second-hand because I asked my parents and grandmother. My grandmother knit socks and folded parachutes, even while she was dealing with a broken arm. But she had four sons serving their country so no sacrifice, no job was too much for her to bear. Her sons were depending on her.

     The fact is if this pandemic had been handled competently with more honesty and if the public had been told the truth sooner, we wouldn’t be in this position. If there had been clear mandates about masks and distancing, we wouldn’t be in this situation. If there hadn’t been unrealistic pressures to “re-open” too soon, 200,000 persons wouldn’t be dead with no sign the numbers will significantly drop anytime soon. While more is known about how the virus acts, what the consequences are, how long the effects last, not enough is known to throw caution to the wind and resume the old ways before the pandemic. We have no vaccine yet or for the foreseeable future.

     I’ve also wondered what the line in the sand is, what your price is, how much will you excuse or turn a blind-eye to before it’s too much or has gone too far. Keep in mind that loyalty is a TWO-WAY street. Be loyal, by all means, but be sure that loyalty is reciprocated equally and honestly. Rhetoric is rhetoric regardless of who is spouting it. Hypocrisy too. If you are passing judgment on someone no matter what the reason but giving a pass to someone else who’s doing the exact same thing because of how  friends or your family think, well, that’s hypocrisy and it’s wrong. If thinking only 200,000 dead isn’t that many out of 310,000,000+, you are certainly entitled to feel that way but then stop. Remember, they could just as easily be your father, mother, sister, brother, grandmother, grandfather, son, daughter, aunt, uncle, cousin or friend who gets infected next and makes 200,001. Would that be over your line? Too much to pay? Yet something else you turn a blind eye to? Be careful here because you may have to live with that decision.

     I wear my mask. It isn’t always comfortable and if I have to walk a lot, I sometimes feel like I can’t catch my breath. But I will wear it for those around me, for my husband and for me. If I knowingly caused someone I know to get sick and die, I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I was responsible for someone else’s death because of my selfishness. I socially distance even when others don’t know what six feet looks like. It isn’t this🤏.

     This will one day be over. But it won’t be over this month or next or this year. It will be over when it’s over. I pray life will be changed, we will be changed, our hearts will be changed. We’ll realize we are more alike than disparate. That living in harmony makes more sense than being divided. Busily working together toward common goals instead of millions of separate, non-productive ones is more valuable. That we all have value, period. We are all worthwhile, worth knowing, worth caring for and about. What I’m more weary of than wearing a mask or keeping my distance is being ideologically divided as a country. I look forward to being together, again.

     In 1972 I moved to Denver, Colorado. I felt it was time to make the move so I could grow into the person I am today. I needed to mature, gain self-confidence and further develop my independence. As a kid, my family spent several vacations in Denver. It was, after all, the home of Sheriff Scottie, Fred and Faye and Duffy’s soda pop. Denver had a great zoo (even better now), top drawer amusement parks and Bauer’s Cafeteria with the clean-plate treasure chest prize. And then there was shopping, lots of shopping! I always loved those vacations, loved Colorado. That’s why when I was deciding how the next part of my life was going to go, Denver seemed the perfect place to start. 

     To say I was naive about moving to a big city would be an understatement. I made $3.25/hour working at a bank in the bookkeeping department. I took home $156/two weeks. My rent was $95/month which left me $217/month for groceries, telephone bill (when we had to pay to call long distance), utilities, bus fare, gasoline, downtown parking (when I didn’t take the bus), laundry, work clothes and lunch during the work week. It was a stretch every single month but I made it, somehow.

     Even though Denver had one of the highest incidents of rape in the country, I survived. I supported myself, got better jobs with only  minimal salary increases. While the pay always remained small (I am a woman, after all), I learned new skills, met new people from different walks of life, backgrounds and ethnicities. I worked downtown for a couple of years and then spent the rest of my work years with companies in or around the Tech Center south of Denver. I went everywhere by myself or with friends in those days. To bars and restaurants, movie theaters and comedy clubs, shopping malls. To plays and concerts and night clubs. I wasn’t afraid although there were times when I should have been. My love for Denver kept me going, reinforced my resolve to stay in Colorado.

     After twenty-odd moves over as many years, I settled in Aurora. We moved into a nice neighborhood, into a great house. The climate is nice, sometimes. When I came to Denver in 1972, the winters could be brutal. Heavy, deep snowfall one day that melted the next day. The winters now are just bitterly cold accompanied by minimal snow. The summers then were relatively mild-ish. I honestly don’t remember weeks and weeks of 90+ degree heat like we are experiencing now. Back then we had a fall season and a spring one but now, those seasons last a couple of days, at best. And they say global warming isn’t real, pshaw.

     My neighborhood’s changed, too. Fortunately for us, our worst neighbor moved and a lovely family moved in. On our other side, we  had a few different families but the family living there now is delightful. However, in time of COVID, we don’t see much of either and only from a distance. There really are hardly any families who were here when we moved in and the neighborhood seems to be starting over with young families again.

     Denver has changed too. Legalizing marijuana has changed things. People are moving to Denver for legalized gambling and weed which has changed how life is. More people, more traffic and all that implies. It’s begotten what you’d think: crime, shootings, gangs. It’s clearly not the big city I moved to forty-eight years ago. Fred and Faye are long gone. Sheriff Scottie died recently which is a testament to his acting; he was much, much younger than we all thought. The amusement parks have moved and gotten bigger as has the zoo. There’s Major League Baseball, the NFL, hockey and soccer. Bigger, everything’s bigger. And faster, much faster.

     There’s an episode of Andy Griffith that’s one of my favorites. It’s about a business man whose car breaks down on a Sunday outside Mayberry while on the way to an important business meeting. He hoofs it into town and runs into Andy, Aunt Bea, Barney and Opie after church. Andy drives him to the only service station/garage in town but the owner, Wally, is always unavailable on Sunday. However Gomer and Goober (Gomer’s cousin) say they’ll see if they can fix the man’s car without Wally’s help. While he’s waiting for his car to be fixed, Andy takes him home for Sunday supper with Aunt Bea, Barney and Opie. The guy can’t calm down because he’s so fixated on getting on to his meeting. After supper, Andy, Barney and the man go sit on the front porch to digest and relax. Andy and Barney quietly sing “Little Brown Church in the Vale” while the guy paces in frustration. Eventually you see the man begin to relax, remembering life in simpler times and he joins in the singing. The scene never fails to put a lump in my throat or bring a tear.  Eventually, his car gets fixed but what’s important is his attitude is changed by the kindness of these people. He accepts an offer of overnight hospitality to rest up for his drive to the meeting the next day, preferring instead the peace of this small town. (And Opie gets to sleep on an ironing board balanced between two chairs—oh boy!)

     We’d all like to live in simpler times. Worry less, be less afraid and filled with dread about our uncertain future. I know I long for a time when every day doesn’t feel like a struggle. When I moved to Denver there was crime, of course; murders, hold ups, assaults and shootings. While I wasn’t used to things like that happening daily, coming from a small town, most of those things didn’t happen near my apartment or where I worked so I didn’t dwelled on it. I wasn’t afraid. If I had been, I probably would have moved back home. 

     Today, I’m afraid a lot. Given a choice, I might opt to move back home but I know life there now isn’t any simpler than here. We’ve had a murder three blocks from our house at a medical marijuana dispensary that continues to be unsolved three years later. There have been three mass school shootings, a mass theater shooting, two miles from our house, where the youngest victim was six years old, several recent incidents of police shootings of unarmed black men and increased killings of law enforcement officers just doing their jobs. Increased traffic accidents – increased traffic. Everything is moving faster and faster, just at a time when I wish things could go more slowly. I don’t have the bravado (bravada?) I did when I moved to Colorado 48 years ago.

     So what do I do now? How do I make time slow down? How do I make the world simpler? We’re all wearing masks and keeping our distance. We distrust those who used to be easy to trust and believe in. Being honorable doesn’t look like it used to. The only place I feel completely safe is at home. I live in a beautiful city, in a stunning state but don’t go anywhere or see anyone. I guess we all just have to Hang in There. We need to Keep Calm and Carry On. Work hard at being the solution, not continuing to be part of the problem. La La La La La La Live for today. Give peace a chance and pray for a brighter future. I mean, what else can we do?

     Do you remember saving cereal box tops to send away for some fabulous toy shown on the back of the cereal box? I’d save up tops for several months, put them in an envelope and mail them. After 3 – 5 weeks, a toy about one tenth the size pictured on the box, would arrive by mail. Pretty disappointing but the experience of putting something in an envelope, slipping it in the mailbox down the block and then getting a package with my name on it was well, magical.

     In college, mail was a life-line. It delivered care packages from home. Letters kept me from being homesick. All through my life sending and receiving mail has been important to me. It was a tool in my job searching efforts, outgoing resumes and cover letters. It brought cards and packages for celebrations and was a source of news about family and friends.

     As an adult, it brought books from book clubs and music from music clubs. Mail service made it possible pay bills with just a stamp, receive magazine subscriptions and keep up to date on the latest style trends and gadgets with catalogs. (Lots and lots of catalogs.)

     Now, as I get old, the post office delivers necessary prescriptions, retirement checks and important information about Medicare and social security. The post office delivers packages of food and medication for my dog. In this time of pandemic, the USPS is a lifeline to us and so many, many others in difficult times. To do away with the Post Office under the guise of inefficiency and non-profitability is ludicrous.

     Doing away with mailboxes and sorting machines mere months before an election where voting by mail is the best option during a time of pandemic seems inefficient and obstructionist. The post office was set up in The Constitution. It’s been the best and only way to effectively communicate for centuries before the advent of social media. Who remembers getting a letter or package from home and how much it meant and means? Voting is one of your inalienable rights. But staying safe is too. Having your voice heard and counted was hard won. Many, many people marched, protested and died so you can be a part of choosing who represents you and this country. Not to vote is disrespectful to those who gave so much so you could cast that ballot.     

     The pandemic is dangerous and it isn’t over by any means. Being safe, acting in the best interest of others, taking proper precautions is necessary. It is imperative, the right thing to do. Asking anyone to throw caution to the wind and go stand in line to exercise that right just seems cold-hearted. This is an important election. To say the fate of our democracy, our country, is at stake isn’t hyperbole. Every voice must be heard. Allowing election interference to occur again after the fiasco of 2016, well shame on us. Shame on us if we allow it to happen again. To win by any means (even cheating) just proves how incompetent, ignorant and covetous this president is. How “winning” takes priority over everything else is incomprehensible.

     When we are children, we want to win when we play. It makes us feel good to win. Sometimes, as children, we do whatever we can to win even if it means ignoring the rules. However, as children, the stakes aren’t life changing. As adults, the stakes become exponentially higher-sometimes life or death. I wrote to my state senator today, sent an email actually. With the slow down of the postal service, I wanted him to get this Before Election Day in November. He has shown himself to be a supporter of the administration often to the detriment of the people in my state. I said…

     “When I first wrote to you, Senator, I knew we disagreed politically but I respected your right to follow your conscience and moral code. I believed you were an honorable man and hope you still are.

     To win re-election by way of interference with USPS seems desperate, at best. Why would you tie yourself to foolish attempts to win re-election? Don’t for one minute think your constituents are too stupid to realize what is going on. Don’t think they will just give up and not vote. Believe me, the response to the pandemic, the rampant racism, the destruction of our reputation on the world stage means something. We know where to place the blame.

     Please stand up against the president and his efforts to take away the United States Postal Service. The long lasting effects from destroying this entity will further undermine the stability of the country. Why punish everyone who depends on the mails for prescriptions, checks and packages just to win? Show all of us that you still have honor and are not a trump Yes Man. Do the right thing, please!”

     I encourage you to write to your Congress people. Don’t allow this blatant attempt to prevent voter turn out by shackling the USPS through removal of mailboxes and sorting equipment in post offices. I know you have noticed a slowing of mail services. It isn’t just because of the pandemic but an excuse used by the government to restrict voting. Too many persons, men and women, fought and died so their ancestors could get their voices heard. Please, honor their struggle.

    I’m baaaccck! I said I was quitting and I’m still not sure how often I’ll do this. As I discovered, writing had been cathartic for me and as we roll into the seventh month of isolation I’m searching for an—any outlet. My kitchen counters have taken on the role of a pantry so I can keep track of what we have and what we need. But it’s clutter, lots of clutter. If you know me, you know clutter and I are not friends. But one has to adjust, adapt and make the best of a bad situation so that is what I’m doing. Anything for distraction from my clutter.

     What drives me to come out of my self-imposed “hibernation” is the continuing debate: To mask, or Not to mask (it shouldn’t be a question). It’s a no-brainer. WEAR A MASK! Do I really need to socially distance?  I mean after all, I know this person-these people. I know who they’ve seen, who they’ve come in contact with, they are my relatives, my friends, for God’s sake. I don’t need to socially distance, not hug. SOCIALLY DISTANCE for Pete’s sake!

     So here goes, sit back. Pick up a pencil and notebook to take notes. I’m going to explain why I think all this is necessary and I’m not prone to exaggeration, hyperbole or fake news.

     When HIV-AIDS was reaching pandemic proportions in the 70s and 80s, I worked out this schematic. There was a lot of unprotected sex going on, a lot. It should have been a concern for everyone who was engaging in sexual encounters with random partners-gay or straight. However it wasn’t and hundreds of people got infected and died. This schematic, figured out in my feeble little brain, is so basic I believe anyone can understand it and follow the logic. Just in case I’m wrong about the simplicity, please follow along carefully.

     For the purpose of a virtual diagram, I will use girl-A, Phyllis and boy-1, Jim. Not real persons and names picked randomly. So, Jim asks Phyllis to meet him for a drink after work on Friday. It really doesn’t matter how they got into each other’s orbit initially, they just did. She agrees, they meet, have drinks, talk and discover they have so much in common; friends, favorite vacation spots, love of dogs and food. One thing leads to another and as those things usually went back then, the evening ends at her apartment and lasts through breakfast the next day. Now you have their basic story. As Paul Harvey used to say, “And now here’s the rest of the story”.

     Phyllis-A wasn’t virginal, she’d had at least one recent kind of serious boyfriend, boy 2. Jim had also engaged in intimate relations with girls B-C-D. Are you still with me? So when girl A slept with boy 1, she was also sleeping with girl(s) B, C, and D (figuratively). And boy 1 was also sleeping with boy 2(figuratively). But it doesn’t end there. Girl A was also sleeping with all the other boys that B-C-D slept with(figuratively). For the sake of being kind, even if each girl only slept with 1 or 2 other guys, that means Phyllis slept with six or more other guys. Same with Jim. A virus is virulent. It travels from person to person to person and makes no distinctions for age, race, nationality, financial status, sexual orientation, etc. Those who engaged in unprotected sexual intercourse  (even today) with anyone who has been infected with HIV will get the virus and suffer the consequence of that momentary lapse in judgement. So smart persons use protection, regardless of any excuse not to use it.

     Foremost in my mind, every single day, is one question. Who has this person I am coming into contact with been in contact with? Was it someone who was asymptomatic? (If you don’t understand what 

asymptomatic means, please go to a source you trust and find out. I can tell you what it doesn’t mean. It doesn’t mean that the person isn’t contagious. They are!) Was it someone who didn’t yet know they were sick and just believed it was their annual allergies? Is the store, service provider, bar, restaurant or office performing temperature checks on their employees? Are they washing their hands regularly? Are they cleaning surfaces regularly? Because I’m not just dealing with the person standing in front of me but also every person they have been in contact with and so on and so on and so on. Even my neighbors and friends and family members, who I know and trust, come into contact with people they don’t know or who those people have been in contact with. No one is safe from contact with anyone else. It isn’t personal. It isn’t political. It’s life or death.

     Everyone is selling masks now, everywhere. It’s free advertising for hundreds of companies, political parties, celebs. They showcase your dog, favorite movie, action hero, TV show, color or pattern. They are embellished or plain. At the beginning of this mess, Etsy had a few pages of masks made by home crafters. Now there are many, many pages with any pattern or design or color made, in some cases, by big corporations. Pinterest has hundreds! Take your pick. But make a pick! Wear a mask! Save your life. Save some else’s. Love your self enough to endure this Minor inconvenience. Love others enough. Help out hospitals that are full to capacity. Help healthcare workers who are stretched to their emotional limits. Don’t think because this person is your family or a close friend that they or you are safe, immune. Be smart, use your common sense. After all, sense is common so we all should have it, right?

     This will be my last blog piece. For many reasons: very few people read what I write, I don’t think I express my feelings very well and it isn’t the catharsis I expected it to be. My last blog was, I’m sure, misunderstood. All I was trying to say was the vandalism and violence was counter-productive to the real message that deserves, Needs to be heard. The destructive aspect was the distraction the press, politicians and others chose to focus on. Instead of getting a positive, healing message out, it showcased the negative. I felt and continue to feel terrible for those whose property and businesses were damaged or destroyed. I can feel their devastation and lack of understanding why it happened to them. Everyone is struggling just to get through a day, a week, wondering how they will recover from quarantine not paying bills, trying to support a family, a business and employees and then someone adds insult to injury. I would never, am not now or ever will be more outraged by the destruction of stuff, but I will be outraged when the acts of a few create bigger problems and suppress the message.

     So bye. Thanks for reading what I’ve written so far. I’ll miss this but it’s time.

     Last night on the news,  I watched a middle-aged black man weep as he surveyed the ruin of a business he’d spent years building that had been decimated during the riots in Minneapolis. As he tried to tearfully describe what had happened to the reporter, looters actually came back into his business, oblivious to the reporter and his cameraman, and tried to walk off with the man’s safe. The man chased them off. This distraught man was justifiably upset that his business had been destroyed. The last thing he said before the looters tried to take his safe was, “I already had to close for three months because of the virus and lost all that income. I’m not sure if I will be able to come back from this.”

     I understand protest. I applaud people who protest to inspire positive change. But where I draw the line is vandalism and violence. Ghandi understood that peaceful protest got the message across more effectively than violence or anger. Martin Luther King understood peaceful protest was a better way to express grievances. Particularly in the face of rampant ignorance. Striking out violently, destroying property or causing physical harm doesn’t seem to produce the desired result.

     People stop listening when words are yelled or in anger. As children, when your parents yelled at you for something you’d done wrong, you tuned them out. You stopped listening. As a spouse, when you argue, as spouses sometimes do, if you raise your voices, the argument escalates. Things get said neither person wants to hear or say. The same is true in school settings, at work, anywhere that arguments can arise and escalate. Calm speaking voices get a point across more precisely than screaming in rage.

     I’ve never understood looting. Or violent reprisal. Or vandalism, especially against public property/buildings. Who do you imagine pays to repair, replace or rebuild public properties? You do, the tax-payer. They don’t start Go Fund Me pages. Vandalizing private property or businesses only hurts the person(s) who own the business. In this horrible time of Covid19, when persons have had to shut down their businesses, have lost income and are struggling just to survive, why hurt them even further? What does this have to do with the senseless loss of George Floyd?

     When you make yourself part of a mob—not a peaceful protest—your message is lost in the anger and violence of the horde around you. Those you are trying to influence will tune you out. The fear you incite with your anger will cause the very persons you want to hear your voice and understand your point of view to be too busy trying to put out the figurative and literal fires your violence inspires. Your message will be lost.

     If you really want to honor George Floyd, and far too many others, live a different life. See the other person’s point of view. Make a positive impact in your community, in your family. Reach out and help in any way you can. Think before you act or speak. And speak calmly with forethought. Make the Golden Rule the way you live your life. Violence, for the sake of violence, will Never be the answer to any problem.

A man walked into a Waffle House to place an order for food. On the entrance door to the restaurant there was a sign saying “Face Masks Required”. The Waffle House cook refused to make the man’s food unless he donned a face mask. The man left and returned with a mask but refused to wear it. The cook refused service and after some calming by the man’s friend, they left. The next morning he returned without his mask, was refused service again so he pulled a gun and shot the cook. He’s been charged with attempted first degree murder.

     Another man gave the excuse that not wearing a face mask and not social distancing was “his constitutional right”.

     An older woman exclaimed the “government” didn’t have the right to keep her from getting her hair cut as she waved a sign proclaiming the virus didn’t cancel her rights.

     A man called his protective face mask a – muzzle – ‘er, excuse me, mask dictated by the government.

     A hair stylist was symptomatic but cut 84 heads anyway, exposing all those people he worked on. He later tested positive for COVID-19, as did over half the people whose hair he worked on.

     The Governor of North Dakota (in tears) asked his citizenry to wear masks and socially distance not as a mandate but because this is a serious, deadly disease and you may come into contact with those who are most vulnerable to becoming very sick or dying.

     College-age students crowded Boulder Creek for tubing, drinking and socializing. When interviewed they proudly exclaiming they knew they weren’t doing the right thing but having fun was more important so “what are you going to do?”

     As citizens of the United States of America, you are guaranteed “certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” You have the right to refuse to wear a simple little face mask that is uncomfortable for EVERYONE, not just you. You have the right to crowd into restaurants, bars, hair salons, churches and congregate on beaches.

     What you DON’T have the right to do is infect me. Or my husband. Or any others who are designated as vulnerable. You don’t have the right to put other persons at risk because you “want to do what you have a Right to do”. Because testing has been lagging due to supply shortages, no one knows how many persons have coronavirus. Being asymptomatic doesn’t mean you aren’t contagious. It doesn’t  mean you can’t spread the disease to everyone around you. Opening up and rushing to gather will almost certainly guarantee a second wave. If shutting down everything was hard the first time, having to do it a second time will be worse.

     The small sacrifices we are making and should be willing to make are nothing compared to planning funerals that no one can attend. And just because you are related to someone doesn’t mean you can’t contract or spread coronavirus. When you gather with family or friends,  you are gathering with everyone they have come into contact with, and everyone they have come into contact with, and so on and so on and so on. It’s something to think about.