So I’m pushing a cart in Walmart while wearing a mask made out of a blue shop towel and two red rubber bands. Had I added a splash of white I’d have been downright patriotic. I feel like I’m on some sort of dangerous safari, surrounded by masked men and women with fear in their eyes, at least the smarter ones look this way. The usual clueless boobs who seem to live in Walmarts all across America are here as well, oblivious as always. It’s about at this juncture it suddenly occurs to me I’m actually enjoying the fear factor some.
Yeah, I know I’m weird, as off kilter as the 350-pound woman who almost runs me over with a motorized cart apparently reserved for the morbidly obese. Usually, I hate to be inside of Walmart and left this odious chore to Mary, but these are unusual times and a person with a compromised immune system has no business being here. Me? Just another masked man looking for toilet paper.
I just read bandits now take advantage of the mask thing. When this all started I told Mary it would be a great time to rob a bank, and she just shook her head and made the usual expression she has for me when I say something dumb, which I do many times a day, but some of it’s funny, so she puts up with it, or at at least she has for the past 40 years, a pretty good run for a guy like me.
I need a hair cut badly now and I’m wearing oil stained work clothes consisting of a BSA motorcycle t-shirt and faded jeans fraying at the cuffs. I look like a homeless guy, so I really do fit in with this crowd. Just need a cardboard sign reading “I’ll work for hand sanitizer and a couple of pork chops.” Can’t find either, some aisles now looking like the propaganda photos Nixon loved to circulate showing bare Russian store shelves during the Cold War.
As I dodge clueless person 87 going the wrong way down what are now clearly marked as one-way passages, I’m also wondering what the stores look like in Wuhan. Live bats, three for the price of one? I’m grateful at least nobody here at a Walmart totes an assault rifle, but I’m sure down here in South Texas there are at least two and probably more around me packing loaded pistols. In contemplation of all the Quick Draw McGraws around me, I start shaking my head at TV pictures showing idiots lined up close together to buy ammo when it’s impossible to shoot what’s really dangerous. I guess we just gotta kill something when we’re frightened. It’s the American way. However, I find armed protesters disturbing and grateful most of us do as well. Hey, I’m a natural born rebel and have participated in many protests, but I’ve never waved a gun at another human, and I’m proud of that. I do have a little self-control.
How do I cope with current events personally? Well one way, obviously, is I put my rants in writing as I’ve long found this gets it out of my system and can be shared with those who care to read them or easily ignored by those who do not. Very unobtrusive, I think, and good therapy.
After a three-year hiatus, I also resumed motorcycle riding a bit, excellent therapy for me, medicine I now make as safe as possible by vastly different ridding habits. Once a member of the “Live Fast, Die Young and Leave a Good Looking Corpse” club, I now poke around like the old codger I am. But I’m back in the wind, something I find most liberating under all the doom and gloom often surrounding us today. I enhance the medicinal value by realizing how fortunate I am to be safe and comfortable when so many are not. Like most of us, I’m trying to share what I have with the less fortunate, also great therapy
“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” repeatedly flashes in memory because I truly believe a deep and fundamental shift in our lives has taken place and the Oz we now face will expose a lot of wizards for what they truly are and also create new leaders to takes us on a different journey. I believe we are at a moment in time somewhat similar to two huge wars America fought, one civil and still unresolved in many ways, the other WWII from which the American giant emerged mostly unscathed thanks much to a combination of brave men and women and geography. Only the real enemy today is invisible, and this seems to make simple people look for bogymen who don’t exist.
Getting back to personal survival and mental health, I’ve long found physical exercise essential and this is one tip that may be universal and useful to you as it is easy and cheap to replicate at home and within anyone’s ability. You don’t need to buy expensive exercise equipment or go to a gym, the latter I think really dangerous under current conditions. Instead I highly recommend a heavy bag, a piece of boxing equipment that’s very inexpensive if you just buy the empty canvas bag and fill it with tightly packed rags. Use something like a baseball bat to pack the cloth really tight before hanging the bag. I’ve had one swinging from a rafter in my shop for over 30 years. You also need a pair of well padded bag gloves, ones with at least ten ounces of padding to protect your hands. Total cost is usually under $100.
Long ago, I learned to get through life I needed to beat the livin’ shit out of an inanimate object like a heavy bag on a regular basis to keep me from swigin’ on live ones, either physically or verbally, and the therapy has done much for me. Lately, I’ve been beating the crap out of Covid-19, cancer, and the damn dog next door that barks all night. When I’m done with eight three-minute rounds, I feel better all day, more alert and much calmer. You might want to start with three two minute intervals and work up from there. Allow a minute rest between rounds to rest up for the next series of explosions.
Finally, and always in conjunction with my bag workouts, I need music to sooth a troubled soul. Rock does it for me and I make playlists that get me hoppin’ and poppin’. One of the best ever at this, Little Richard, just died. He’s given so much to so many, and gave me one of my best memories ever. It’s in Little Richard’s memory I share this old deep south stomp with you.
One Easter Sunday long ago after Mary and I left church, I sat in a Winn Dixie parking lot in a $50 car with a $500 sound system, pretty much an insight on my priorities. I popped in a Little Richard tape, and he began wailing “Whole Lotta Shaking Going On.” When I glanced to my left, I saw a little black girl in a bright white Easter dress about ten yards away, twirling and stepping to the music. She couldn’t have been any older than 10, probably younger, and it was obvious someone had taught her some great moves. I was absolutely enchanted by her skill and abundant enthusiasm. The enormous joy she projected washed over me and filled a well I still draw from, a great gift from a total stranger, almost magical.
When the song ended, the little girl turned to me with a million megawatt smile, gave a short wave of thanks for the music, which I returned, and then she skipped off across the pot-holed Louisiana parking lot and out of my life forever. But in many ways, she never left.
Little Richard could emotionally move just about anyone with ears, and he was even more powerful live and in person. He was as much a consummate showman as he was a musician. If you’d care to, click the link below to see The King of Rock explode on an English audience in 1963. This is a version of the same song the little girl danced to and the year just happens to be when Mary graduated. All the people in the audience look like they just walked off her South Terrebonne High School yearbook pages, and I have absolutely no doubts had Mary been in this UK group she’d have been bustin’ her moves exuberantly as she’s always loved to dance. Unfortunately, the sound quality leaves a lot to be desired, but If you like roots rock and roll, you will not be disappointed. Nor will you be able to remain still. You just gotta move to the groove, baby, and, for me at least, it’s critically important, especially in times like these.
Please be careful our there and don’t let the minuscule minority fringe groups get you down. Be comforted knowing there’s still much joy in life’s dance. We have so many great people all around us who have and will continue to make our new masked ball even better if we only take the time to look, listen and enjoy. No virus can take this away.
Here’s the Little Richard Link- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzYJS3ksH_s