You’re captives of a civilizational system that more or less compels you to go on destroying the world in order to live. … You are captives—and you have made a captive of the world itself.
That’s what’s at stake, isn’t it?—your captivity and the captivity of the world. – Daniel Quinn
“Get your head out of my fucking window!”
Just about this exact time last year – noonish – the geezer from across the street is in my face because he’s all excited about his new flooring, which he got done real cheap.
I had just spent three weeks recuperating from an extraordinary stomach surgery following the gargantuan hernia following two weeks of the worst flu ever with the holidays scattered about.
The wife had to get her anxiety meds doubled.
Suddenly it seems, time for our semi-annual weekend at our Cedar Key retreat.
I can stand, I can walk, I can drive, I’m going. Plus it’s already paid for.
“Bill, back off. Didn’t you hear about pandemic?”
I don’t know what he said in response. I just made sure not to run over his toes. We have that kind of relationship.
Cedar Key, Florida. Everybody here calls me ‘The Wild Dog’ or ‘Doctor’ and I’ll be your tour guide.
Arrive in time to get good parking. Head straight for Steamers. That’s what we did March 12, 2020. Place is sparsely populated, part of the plan, and we head straight outdoors, to the far end of the deck. Another couple at the opposite far end.
So, you are sitting there eating oysters and quaffing an adult libation, when the obligatory Chamber of Commerce dolphin comes swimming by. You ooh and ahh because a dolphin sighting is a BFD for you and your lovely companion.
A lot like sex at our age.
Later in your room, sitting on the deck, you listen to the boisterous sounds wafting from Steamers, sounds like some retired dentist from Gainesville singing a medley of ‘Margaritaville’ and ‘Does Your Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor On The Bedpost Overnight?’
A huge, boisterous happy crowd, shoulder to shoulder, table by table, maybe even dancing….
That meal at Steamers on March 12, 2020, was the last time I had restaurant food.
Stayed in our room for three days like teenage honeymooners. Except for my daily perambulations.
No restaurants, no art galleries, no contact with outsiders.
Skip ahead.
Get my second vaccine in a couple of weeks.
Haven’t seen my grandkids since 2019.
I blame the bats, the Chinese and the fat orange guy.
Happy to be here.
Happy to be anywhere.
Happy Anniversary.
Hernando County, Florida, has 11,773 cases and 435 deaths reported.
Entering year two.