I’ve had it. The Canadian Geese finally pushed me over the edge. That was my tipping point. I was driving back to the church after running a few errands on my lunch hour, and there they were flying through the sky. Steadily flying south in packs of ten and four and six. They were escaping what was feeling more and more like an existential play. No Exit . Waiting for Godot . That sort of thing. The sort of tale where you never really emerge. You. Just. Wait. It’s been almost a year now since this whole COVID journey began, which seems both ridiculous and unreal. There’s no possible way it hasn’t been a full year. There’s no possible way we haven’t come up on the one-year anniversary of when they shut down the schools and we fumbled our way through our first on-line service. There’s a word that captures where we are right now. It’s not a fun word. It’s a winter word. It’s a “get you through the month of February” word. Austerity. As in the
You'll have to forgive me. I was desperate. There I was six minutes into scrolling through the thread on my phone, just hoping no one peeked over my shoulder and caught a glimpse. But I couldn't stop. Not now. Not before I found out whether he was going to make it out of this one. Keep in mind things were not looking good. Everything was stacked against him. Foes on every side. Physical pain. And somewhere out there a grave that was going to get filled with something or somebody. So, I just kept on scrolling. Like everything else, I blame it on the pandemic right now. I can't remember the last time I succumbed to this weakness. Late high school? Maybe. I know it was really bad in junior high, enticed as I was by all the grit and glamour, all the spandex and sweat and grunting and flying bodies. Blame it on Hulkamania for sure. Blame it on the marketing geniuses who figured out a way to turn Rowdy Rowdy Piper and Mean Jean and Tattoo Lou into a