guy howard

Life-essayist - sitting in California; writing Fact and Fiction, exploring language and  my view from Life's bridge. This  will be about PAINFUL and funny lessons and I will not be shy expressing my thoughts on the world i see.  

Love the stranger that was your self - A Corona Reflection

From poem by Derek Walcott 

I have been driven to distraction lately, locked down as we are in the world, with fanciful thoughts of going out to dinner and sitting at a favorite and elegant restaurant with tablecloths and wine. I can see the rites of passage from course to course, as I look across the table at you and enjoy a romantic repast that includes delights of conversation. That is when I abruptly hit the wall and realize mid-thought of grilled octopus with squid ink sauce, I have nothing new to say anymore. 

We have talked for months now without surcease and I have no new topics of conversation. I am retired now. I go nowhere. I can’t regale you with tidbits about new museums or seeing new art – unless I do so electronically; how moribund. I don’t travel to interesting shops for unusual items, except on-line, nor do you. So, how do we fill one another in on separate activities when we have no separate activities, unless we walk at different times and even then the paths we travel remain the same.

On occasion, I go somewhere you don’t, but any anecdote gets shared and consumed so rapidly. The void time before and after is all that is poignant. Besides, there are few cute anecdotes anyway travelling among the masked and hidden smattering of people populating the anywheres one can go safely these days.

Even the cute dogs one sees on walks through the neighborhood have become boringly the same. There are no new dogs. I have taken to watching cute dog videos so I can talk about it. I have taken to watching videos of almost anything cute to have a shareable moment. Unfortunately, so have you and what I hear is “Oh, I already saw that one.” Well, fuck me and my mundane existence. Can I help it that there are only 50 or so cute videos out there and everyone knows them by now?

That’s when I realize I don’t like myself much these days. I try to resist though “resistance is futile” said the Borg. I am becoming the curmudgeon of my own existence. I am frequently telling myself to get off my lawn or out of my yard or off the couch or use a coaster or put away the dishes or fold the laundry or put the laundry away or what are you going to make for dinner or why don’t you go to sleep at a reasonable hour. 

I don’t go to bed at a reasonable time because I am searching for stimulus so I can pretend to have an interesting topic conversation about the day. Such late night and endless searching has proved only one thing – the topics discussed during the late night are the same as those flagged during the day, whether in story, song or from TV’s talking heads. They have been the same topics for four months or is it five, now. God, I am boring.

The highlight of life is a trip to the grocery or hardware store – what scintillating conversation troupes can grow from such adventures – NONE! There has yet to be one new and unusual fruit or vege unknown to our species that might, at minimum, prompt a back-and-forth of you try it – no, you try it – let’s get Mikey to try it he hates everything.

The hardware store is even worse. I am not there to construct some new solar contraption that will save the world, not even my little segment of the world. I am there to get something to repair an old item at home that has been around for decades and just needs a new fuse or bolt to last a few more years – maybe I should look for a new fuse to renew my capacity to work for a few more years.

The other day I semi-seriously thought about getting a job. Linked In sends me regular notices about potentials and I have yet to delete this app more than a year into retirement. I thought – it might be fun to go back into the world and have something to do that could translate into anecdotes and complaints and new stories to tell. These might make me a more interesting person again. Then I remember, I am in every at risk category and getting a new view of the world would be unlikely. I wonder if there is a civil rights category, which prevents discrimination on the basis of at-risk status.

I realize, I just don’t like myself much these days and need to find a way back to an enjoyable me. Maybe I just need to recognize the truth of Derek Wolcott’s line – “you will love again the stranger that was your self.” I used to like me. I think I can get there again. I just need a break. I think I’ll go for a walk.

Walk with Me - BLM Thoughts

My throat is filled with the silt of it - A Corona Poem