Wine and Thoughts

I am not sure what wine has to do with my thoughts today, except that I am sipping a boxed Pinot noir that is pleasant but not very exciting, kind of like my life. Each day during this stay at home pandemic crisis I am thankful my life is just pleasant and not exciting. I am not sick; thus far members of my family are not sick; nor are my animals sick. I am very fortunate to be among the folks that don’t mind staying home, working crosswords, reading, vacuuming, and such.

But what of those folks who don’t seem to be so lucky? I drive south on Highway 27 to the countryside to visit Reo and see heavy traffic on the road and I wonder, where are they going if they’re not working? Surely they’re not all going to see their horse, like me! So, if no one is working, and everyone is supposed to be staying home, what the heck is everyone doing? Ahh. I see where they’re headed. To Walmart to find toilet paper. But I see them at Home Depot, too. And at Kroger’s, and the pet store, and the nursery. Everyone is shopping, and no one is wearing a face mask.

So why have our doctors and health care workers been working ungodly hours trying to save lives if so few of us don’t care? I just can’t figure it out. Almost 70,000 of my countrymen and women have died, and no one seems perturbed by this huge loss. At any moment now, one million people in this country will contract this virus, and yet gun toting fools carry on like terrorists at the Michigan statehouse threatening their governor because she is trying to save their and their families lives. Crazy, really.

Believe me, I get that people need to earn money in order to live, and that the single moms out there are frightened, and that the “economy” is important. I understand. But people, it’s only been two months. Your government should have helped you manage this financial crisis until we whip this disease, and your federal government has simply failed you, and now your scared, and you think it’s okay to carry war weapons on your shoulders so you can work again, and maybe die in the process.

I’m not okay with dying, even if I’m older than you. I am not okay with a three month old baby dying from this virus, nor am I okay with teenagers having covid strokes and heart attacks. I think your protests should be directed toward your tax collecting federal government for failing to financially protect you, not toward your state governors who are trying to keep you alive.

Oh well, this boxed wine liberates my thoughts, and besides, it’s rather tasty. And, I am here, alive.

Published by mjm1942

I have aged. Of course. I was born in Trenton, NJ in 1942. I now live in Kentucky. It's 2019. My marriage has lasted 56 years, and I still love the man. My three children live far from us, and we do miss them; however, it's fine with just he and me. We are best friends. I love my dogs and my horses. I have failed as a writer (dreams died long ago), but I still dabble now and then. I have always been restless; perhaps because I have moved so many times in my life. I feel like something is waiting to happen around the corner. I graduated from Salem College at 55 years of age. I am a woman.

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