The big epidemic and the big emergency continue to rule our lives. Not so much down here on the farm, since satellite coverage enabled us to see video of an obviously stressed United Cabin Crew throw a young family off a flight because the family’s two-year-old had trouble conforming with CDC guidelines.

The rest of the madness continues, of course, so it is hard to pick out what it is they want us to be alarmed about this lovely morning. Snow is coming, they say, which is always an event here in the Piedmont. Thankfully, we are prepared for most contingencies. But we will still be moving firewood to ensure we have something dry to burn if it comes to that.

That uncertainty is common these days. Pals have made their opinions known on all of the curious events of this strange season. I needn’t go into the specifics. You are either following it all or ignoring it. I support both approaches to the civil discourse. The extended duration of the Medical Emergency contributes to the general air of unreality. Aspects of The Beach and The Holidays awkwardly protrude from the various governments and variety of edicts.

It appears other things have joined the long litany of things that have been altered in what we used to think of as “normal.” Grooming was the first thing to go, and I am afflicted with a persistent case of Trey Gowdy hair, modeled on the former Congressman who could do amazing things with the little patch of gray foliage on his head. Then it became the nature of reality itself.

To end the controversy, vaccines are being shipped today from distribution centers. I am mildly surprised by the speed demonstrated by our medical Experts, but am pretty sure I will wait. There are more downstream effects. I am not sure I will ever be comfortable in crowds again, or with unwashed hands, wondering if I should touch or replace the mask I wear to get into the pool complex and then remove.

Those are things that will linger. Others will not. Now I shave infrequently, taking guidance from some of the anchors on television, sporting Trey Gowdy locks and five o’clock stubble in the morning, broadcasting from their basements.

Sean and Chuck are two lives that blipped briefly across our screens. I saved a picture of Sean when I heard, and wanted to mark a life that helped to shape ours:

As James Bond, Sean conveyed romance and courage in an uncertain world of stark contrast. I will miss sharing the planet with him. Then, the one that hit hard was the passing of Chuck Yeager, whose world I had the chance to live in. His courage was something real, though filmed, and he lasted to 97 years of age. He was the fighter pilot’s pilot, a man of unshakeable confidence and determination whose soft clipped tones are still mimicked in each announcement on commercial airliners. He was the essence of the man in the sky.

That is Chuck above, with his strong and lovely and strong wife Glamorous Glennis. I would rather remember their lives this morning than the Swamp Madness that marks this bizarre year. Let’s remember when courage like Chuck’s meant something, and a suave certainty like Sean’s could defy all opposition, real and imagined.

We can get back to the more mind-numbing stuff later. Marlow and Arrias have some great pieces to come this week. Timely, but not hysterical. They are two men who are attempting to deal with today’s swirl of surprise. I like their style in this new world we inhabit. For the two who have passed, long lives immersed in other events, they are worth remembering as extraordinary people of a different time. And I am thinking of their examples before the snow comes.

It is all a matter of current events, and what gets lost, right?

Copyright 2020 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com